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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

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Hurricane - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley's regretted breaking off his relationship with you for months, but when he sees you walking into the country club after his round of golf, he knows he has to fix things.

a/n: I haven't written much angst before but I'm really trying to branch out a little bit. Inspired by Hurricane by Luke Combs, and also this weird recurring dream I keep having.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: buckle up bc there's a lot? angst (happy ending), parental death, depression, hurt, cancer, goose's accident + carole's reaction, carole literally never getting over losing goose, bradley being a commitmentphobe, pregnancy (i think that's it?), also entirely unrealistic bc you know what? I can't keep roo sad for long.

word count: 3.6k

taglist: @avengersfan25, @nouis-bum, @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @djs8891

Then you rolled in with your hair in the wind Baby, without warning I was doin' alright but just your sight Had my heart stormin'

Bradley narrowed his eyes beneath his sunglasses, the glare of the hot mid-morning sun harsh on his chocolate brown eyes. He grabbed his nine-iron from his golf bag, taking a practice swing before teeing up for his next shot. Bob, Jake, Reuben and Javy stood to the side behind him, watching as he lined up to take his shot. He hadn’t golfed in years, in fact, he’d only ever golfed a handful of times in his life, all of them back when he lived in Virginia. His uncle had taught him when he was 15, a welcome distraction when his mom became sick, and he’d gone out a few times when he was in college after a roommate of his on the school’s golf team had invited him out. He held his breath as he heard the club make contact with the small, white orb, watching as it soared through the air, disappearing somewhere onto the course. Jake let out an impressive whistle as he looked on, placing his hands on his hips as he shook his head in disbelief.

“You’ve never golfed before, Bradshaw? You sure?” He drawled, raising one of his manicured (though he’d deny it if asked) blonde eyebrows suspiciously.

“I told you, a handful of times. Not never.”

“You did say less than five,” Bob shrugged as he cleaned his glasses before replacing them on his nose. “Less than five suggests you haven’t really hit a course.”

“Not to mention you said in years. That was the swing of a man who’s at least hit a driving range a few times,” Reuben pointed out to the course in the general direction of where Bradley’s ball had landed as Javy, Bob and Jake nodded in agreement.

“I wish Nat had tagged along, she wouldn’t ride my ass this hard,” Bradley huffed, shaking his head.

“Nat doesn’t golf. You know that. She acted disgusted that I even asked,” Jake shrugged.

“Maybe it was how you asked,” Bob suggested as he disguised his jab at Jake as a helpful criticism.

“Just take your turn, Robert,” Jake hissed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Bob smirked.

Bradley normally would have joined in with a quip of his own directed at Jake, but his heart just wasn’t in it. His heart wasn’t even in the game. The only reason why he’d agreed to go golfing with the guys for their usual monthly game was because you left him. He needed to get over you and move on - it’d been six months and with no deployments coming up, he had nothing to focus 100% of his attention onto. Reuben had noticed it first - Bradley was withdrawn on nights out, his usually chatterbox self now quiet, calm and keeping to himself, barely breaking eye contact with his beer bottle. Then came Natasha’s barrage of questions - he knew she meant well, but God, it was hard to listen to.

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew why you left. And it was entirely his fault. You’d gotten upset because he’d stopped spending as much time with you, kept getting cold feet about committing to your relationship. He’d never tell you why he couldn’t commit - it was too hard for him to explain to anyone, really. In fact, he was fairly confident that Reuben was the only other person aware of it.

Bradley wanted to be the partner you needed - he really did. He wanted to be the doting, affectionate boyfriend who’d whisk you off somewhere beautiful, propose to you, start a family with 2.2 kids and a dog, cart the kids around to sports practices on weekends - the American dream. He knew you deserved that much. And yet, no matter how badly he wanted to give that to you - he couldn’t. He’d told you he didn’t want it - he didn’t want to get married, he didn’t want to have kids, he never wanted it. He watched you fall apart the minute the words left his mouth, and it killed him inside. He wanted to hold you close and tell you he was making a mistake, tell you it wasn’t true and he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t, because he was terrified.

Growing up without his dad was one of the hardest things he could have experienced, he was sure of it. He was too young to truly remember how his mom reacted when she learned her husband had been killed in a training exercise, but he remembered her crying a lot, feeling paralyzed by loss and guilt, angry with the world for taking the man she loved away from her. He remembered as he grew up, she never remarried, never went on a date, never even as much as looked at another man. His dad was her everything, and losing him crushed her.

When she got sick, Bradley was a teenager - old enough to understand what it meant for her, what her odds of recovery were, and old enough to be realistic about the future. When they found out she wasn’t going to get better, he’d half expected her to react the way she did when his dad died, but instead, she seemed almost at peace with the idea. She’d spent 14 years of her life missing his dad, and she knew that, even though she was horrified by the thought of leaving Bradley on his own, she wouldn’t have to spend another minute missing her husband.

Bradley decided then that he’d never want to put someone through that. He’d never be able to hurt someone he loved like this - leave them widowed before they turned 30, alone with a toddler at home to raise on the opposite side of the country from their family and friends, with nothing but a military pension and an apology over his death.

It was at 16 years old that Bradley decided, if he wanted to become a pilot, he was going to have to spend life alone, and for the most part, he was ok with that.

That was, until he met you.

He tried to deny his feelings, pretending you were just a casual fling, some fun sex here and there between deployments and missions and nothing more. That was, until three months in, he accidentally told you he loved you. It wasn’t a lie, he did love you, but it caught him off guard when he said it - he didn’t mean to blow his cover and let his guard down like that. And when you said it back? He knew it was game over.

He tried his hardest to push his fears aside, he tried SO hard. He was getting older and beginning to realize he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, especially as he neared the mandatory 20 years of service cutoff for aviators. He’d grown almost fond of the idea of settling down with you, seeing you with a ring on your finger, picturing you with a baby in you, his baby. He wanted it. He wanted all of it. But, the fears and anxiety he had reared its ugly head, and he couldn’t bring himself to get past it.

It was on their last mission, when he had to eject and landed in the middle of a snowy mountain, unsure if he’d make it back home to you. His mind raced with thoughts of how you’d react if he didn’t make it home - how you’d crumple to the floor when you saw the two uniformed officers on your doorstep, the blood-curdling scream you’d let out in pain when you heard them say it, tears staining your pretty little face as you were handed that folded American flag - he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand the idea of putting you through everything his mom had gone through. Not when you were so young and had everything ahead of you. When you could find a man who wasn’t putting his life in danger nearly every damn day, risking himself and risking a chance he might not come home to you.

This golf trip was meant to take his mind off you. Reuben had mentioned it in passing to Jake and Bob, who exchanged worried looks with one another. Javy had overheard Nat’s line of questioning when he and Mickey returned to the table with a fresh round of beers, both of them offering Bradley silent looks of sympathy as they nodded in agreement to Nat’s advice. Bradley was struggling, in over his head with emotions and regret and sadness, but he knew he’d fucked it all up. And he knew that even if he tried, you wouldn’t want him back, and who could blame you?

Bob had suggested he reach out to you and apologize, and for a while, Bradley considered it. He strongly considered calling you, going to your house, begging for forgiveness and begging you to take him back, but after how you reacted when he broke things off with you, he wouldn’t even take him back. He’d been a dick in every sense of the word, and now, he had to try and move on, adjusting to life without you in it.

The next nine holes passed by with little conversation from Bradley and worried glances exchanged between his friends. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, he’d explain, shrugging the concern off before focusing back on the game. Bradley was thankful for his friends’ efforts, but it was beginning to feel like nothing would help him move on.

He slumped down into a chair at a table in the country club after their round of golf, sipping back the beer Jake bought him. He caught himself downing the liquid quicker than he should have, but at this point, being drunk would at least provide him with that much needed numbness he craved. He could hear Bob bickering with Jake over golf scores and who truly won, prompting an eye roll from Javy as he pulled the crumpled scoresheets from his pocket and placed them on the table. Reuben noticed the glazed over look in Bradley’s eye and clapped a sympathetic hand down on his shoulder.

Bradley was about to thank Reuben for being there for him when he saw your face. You were walking into the country club with a couple of your friends, laughing and smiling as you spoke.

God, he loved that smile.

He gulped back the rest of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table, the sound of Bradley slamming the glass down a little harder than he intended prompting Jake to spin his head around as he saw you.

“Oh..shit,” he murmured as Bob and Javy both turned to look discreetly towards you.

Bradley’s eyes widened as you walked past the bar, revealing a very unexpected new figure. He blinked his eyes a few times to ensure they weren’t playing tricks on him - positive that this had to be some kind of optical illusion or something. It was impossible. You couldn’t be.

“Pregnant.” Jake whispered as he leaned into the table, “She’s pregnant,”

“Did you know, Bradley?” Bob inquired as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“N-no.” Bradley choked out, feeling the walls closing in around him as the room started to spin.

Without hesitation, Bradley rose from his seat and made his way over to you, despite the protests from Bob and Reuben, the two voices of reason to Javy and Jake’s voices of impulse. Bradley approached you cautiously, clearing his throat for a moment to garner your attention. You spun your head around, your cheeks rosy and your skin glowing with that pregnancy glow everyone always talked about. Bradley had never really believed in that kind of stuff, but you were proving him wrong.

“Bradley?” you asked, your face paleing to a shade of ghostly white.

“Can…can we talk, please? I need to talk to you,” Bradley rambled with desperation written on his face.

You huffed a sigh, nodding your head slowly as you excused yourself from your friends, who were now whispering and exchanging uncomfortable glances with one another. Bradley followed closely behind you as you stepped out into the fresh air, finding a discreet corner of the parking lot to discuss everything from the last six months.

“I…Is it mine?” Bradley whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer as his eyes wandered to the bump that was evident under your sundress.

You sighed again, following Bradley’s gaze down to your abdomen, a protective hand resting on your bump as you nodded slowly, humming in confirmation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned, shaking his head quickly, “I-I, I would have helped you.”

“Bradley,” you said, narrowing your eyes and shaking your head quickly, “You told me you didn’t want this. You dumped me and told me you never wanted to settle down or have a family, you didn’t want to be with me anymore, and being in a long-term relationship wasn’t what you ever wanted. You told me you didn’t love me. So please, tell me why I should have told you?”

“Because,” he said softly, his heart aching as he heard your side of things, “I didn’t mean any of that. I was wrong.”

“Oh, you were wrong? Tell me, were you always wrong, or are you only wrong now that you’ve seen me six months later, heavily pregnant?”

Bradley was speechless. He gazed down at his feet, kicking at the pavement in his golf cleats. He sighed as he thought for a moment, taking a second of quiet reflection to compose his thoughts before speaking. He wanted to get this right. He couldn’t afford to fuck it up again.

“I was always wrong. I was wrong when I said it, and I knew I was wrong,” he shook his head vigorously before looking up to meet your gaze, “Did I ever tell you about my mom?”

“You told me she died when you were a teenager, and you didn’t really mention anything else about her. Or anyone in your family, for that matter.”

“Right,” he nodded his head slowly, taking a deep breath before beginning to explain. “My dad died when I was 2. He was an RIO, a Radar Intercept Officer. You know Maverick, right?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded slowly, a look of annoyance flashing across your face as you listened to Bradley, you were used to his excuses, and you were really hoping this wasn’t another one.

“So, Maverick was my dad’s pilot. Best friends. Did everything together. He was flying when my dad died, their plane lost control, had to eject, my dad hit the canopy. Died instantly.” Bradley paused, taking another deep breath as he felt himself getting choked up, “My mom, she, uh, she was really young. My dad was 25, my mom was 23. He was her high school sweetheart. She was devastated. I was too young to remember a lot, but I remember her hurting, and being sad all the time, unable to function some days because she just missed him so much,” he explained as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“Bradley, I’m sorry,” you sighed, shaking your head as you sympathetically rubbed his bicep to comfort him.

“I just…when she died, she was…peaceful, I guess, because she knew she wouldn’t have to miss him anymore. She wouldn’t be lonely. She never remarried or dated after him, she couldn’t bring herself to. She’s buried with her wedding ring still on her finger. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off her,” he took another deep breath, exhaling sharply before looking up at you.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he finally said, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over again, “I couldn’t leave you like my mom. Heartbroken and alone your whole life. She never moved on, and I didn’t want that for you if we got married. God, I would have given anything to marry you. I would have taken you to the courthouse and married you on the spot if you would have agreed to it. But, I couldn’t risk breaking your heart. Not like that.”

“Bradley, you’ve always come home in one piece,” you said softly, fingers still stroking his upper arm soothingly.

“But I almost didn’t. I had to eject and all I could think about was you getting that knock at the door and going through what she went through, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you, or…or to a baby.”

You shook your head, processing everything that Bradley had just said as he poured his heart out to you. He’d never opened up like this to you before, but you could tell each and every word was genuine. As much as you hated him for leaving you, you couldn’t deny that you still loved him with all of your heart.

You missed him.

You missed waking up to him after the two of you had fallen asleep watching a movie together. You missed the way he yelled at the tv when watching baseball, how passionate he got over football games, how he’d pick the olives out of his nachos like a toddler and put them on your plate. You missed how he couldn’t eat apples unless they were baked in a pie, how he’d scarf down an entire red velvet cake if you didn’t gently stop him, then regret it hours later. You missed the way his big brown eyes would stare at you, a look of pure adoration on his face like a lovesick puppy whenever you spoke to someone else, as if he was hanging on every single word that fell from your lips.

You burst into tears, throwing your arms tightly around Bradley as you shook your head. “God, you’re an idiot, you know that?” you murmured, laughing softly as you hugged him.

“I know, I’m the biggest idiot. I still would marry you if you let me. I wanted to have kids with you, I want to be around for this one,” he nodded, gesturing his hands at your bump.

“Really?”

“Cross my heart,” Bradley said with an expression of complete seriousness on his face, “I wanna know everything about them. Everything. I wanna know what you’re having, what name you’ve picked out, what your cravings are, how you’ve been feeling, when they move, what does it feel like? I want to know how far along you are, and how they’re doing, if they have my nose or your nose, or if they’re gonna be tall like I am, I want to know what helps you sleep at night when you’re pregnant, and what their favourite song is. I want all of it, honey.”

“Ok, ok, slow down, breathe, Bradley,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Take a walk with me?”

As you and Bradley walked around the pedestrian pathway on the golf course, smiling as you spoke fondly about the baby, answering all of Bradley’s questions.

“Well, baby’s a girl, I don’t have a name in mind for her yet, I’ve been craving oranges and Sprite, anything sweet and citrusy. I’ve been ok, better now the morning sickness finally dissipated. It feels like bubbles or something when she kicks, it’s like a fluttering, almost? I’m 28 weeks along, so I have about three months left. She looked like she has your nose on the ultrasound, there’s a 50/50 chance on her height, I sleep pretty much sitting upright because I get bad heartburn otherwise, and I play her music all the time. She likes Elvis and The Beach Boys, just like her dad.”

Bradley’s smile spread wide across his face, a small laugh of disbelief escaping his mouth as he nodded along with your words.

“That’s great. A girl? Really? You’re gonna have a daughter running around,” he said softly, almost as if he was daydreaming about what the little girl would look like.

“We are going to have a daughter.”

“You’re gonna let me be there? After everything?”

“Bradley, as much as I hated you for what you did and how you ended things - I never truly hated you. I loved you, more than anything. I still do.”

He held you tightly, burying his face into your hair as he kissed the top of your head, murmuring softly against your hair.

“God, I love you so much, honey. I promise, I’m never going to do something stupid like that again.”

“I know you won’t,” you laughed, shaking your head as he looked down at you, “I know you’d never leave Carly and I again.”

Bradley froze in place for a moment as he stared at you, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

“What did you call her?”

“Carly. I thought, I don’t know, after you told me about your mom just now, I thought maybe you’d like to name the baby after her? Carole’s nice too, I just figured Carly gives her a name that’s her own too, they share the same root.”

“Carly,” he nodded slowly as he repeated it, “I love it.”

Bradley took your hand in his, his large fingers enveloping your hand as he held it tightly, as if he was terrified of letting go. He made that mistake once before, he wasn’t about to do it again.

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senawashere · 3 months

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Carolina?

Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?

A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭

Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.

Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady

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ddejavvu · 11 months

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Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now.

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring.

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see.

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry.

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome, “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he��d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

1K notes · View notes

sailor-aviator · 7 months

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Stranger Like Me Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Series CW: Language, Inaccurate science jargon, Inaccurate field jargon, Poaching, Animal Cruelty, Inaccurate Climate Depictions, Modern Day AU, Wild Man who doesn't know much, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Violence. Chapters will have specific warnings.

All posts related to this series will be tagged with "SLM," "Stranger Like Me," and/or "Tarzan!Bradley"

*Denotes smut

Meet our heroine!

Masterlist || Teaser || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List

One-shots;

The Beginning

Two Worlds

Sleeping With the Fishes

Baboons and Flesh Wounds

Drabbles;

Slow and sensual sex with Bradley...*

A woman approaches Bradley...

Bradley gets mad when someone else touches you...

Bradley goes down on you for the first time...*

Bradley being clingy...

Bradley shows Boots the canopy...

Bradley eats you out...*

Giving Bradley a Blow Job...*

Bradley feels insecure...

Ice and Mav give Bradley a pep talk...

Headcanons;

Bradley and hair...

Bradley with his newborn son...

Bradley gets jealous...

Bradley's kinks...*

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vivalas-vega · 11 days

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unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

howdy y'all - we've got another rooster fic. i feel i've neglected this man too much on my blog and wanna start writing for him more so here we are with a fleet week fic inspired by my own journey onto a navy ship yesterday!!! (the similarities between my fic and the real deal start and end with waiting in line. my guide was cute but let's just say he was no bradley bradshaw). it was very cool and educational and if your city does fleet week i highly recommend checking it out! this fic will have maybe three parts total. anyways hope you enjoy :)

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 3.2k

warnings: slight language, naval inaccuracies!! (even tho I just did my own fleet week tour I still don't know shit, I'm just a girl)

The ocean breeze filtered through your hair as you stood off to the side, eyes fixated on the impressive carriers in front of you. The sun felt hot on your skin and excitement was buzzing through your veins as you listened to your best friend in your ear… well, half-listened.

“We’re brunching! Come on, meet us at Malibu Farm,” Maggie said and you sighed.

“I told you it’s Fleet Week, I’m already down here,” you replied and you could feel her eyes roll on the other side of the phone.

“I would be supportive if you were trying to bag one of those Navy hotties but come on… bottomless mimosas and all the dirt on Stephanie’s breakup are better than some boats,” she said.

“I will see you for drinks tonight,” was all you replied before hanging up. You’d tried (very unsuccessfully) to convince some of your friends to come with you, telling them about how cool these carriers were and how you only got the chance to see them up close and personal once a year but they had zero interest… you were the only one in your circle who found this sort of thing interesting, and you would have been bummed except for the fact that you were more than okay doing things by yourself.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to a concert or a museum solo, you actually enjoyed it… you loved hanging out with your friends but it was nice to not be tied to what the majority of the group wanted to do (or didn’t want to do), and as you waited in line you were actually a little glad none of them had taken you up on your offer. If Maggie were here she’d be ogling the cute officer who appeared to be getting ready to take your group on board, and she’d spend the whole tour trying to flirt with him instead of listening to what he had to say.

You were content to wait in line as long as it took, taking in the beautiful ships to your left before switching to people watching, you knew this week drew all kinds of visitors and you found it entertaining to see such an eclectic mix of people all in one space… there were the obvious ex-Navy types, returning to their roots and reliving the glory days, there were couples who looked a little out of their element but excited for something new to do as a date, and families with kids… you even spotted an entire elementary class on a field trip. Spare your friend group, most people were more than interested in the opportunity to spend a day aboard multi-million dollar vessels and you were one of them.

Across the way Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw was chatting with his teammates about how much they wanted today to be over… it wasn’t that he hated Fleet Week, because he did enjoy it for about the first hour, but after that it became tiresome to give the same spiel over and over and over. They’d all tried to get out of it, Natasha had even gone so far as trying to manifest a deployment, but according to the higher ups there was no excuse for the Navy’s best and brightest to not make an appearance at an event happening so close to their home base.

But then he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you seem so enamored by everything around you… you didn’t hold an ounce of annoyance over the fact you’d been standing in that same spot going on half an hour now, something he’d seen from other visitors a dozen times already, and when a gust of wind kicked up your hair and sent it fluttering around your face you gave a half hearted attempt to tame it, but really you were just enjoying the breeze and the sun on your skin and he knew he had to know your name. He watched Jake getting ready to take your group aboard and he had to know if you’d abandon the formal tour in favor of letting him take you up instead.

You were eavesdropping on a conversation between a sailor and a kid just ahead of you, a soft smile on your lips as you listened to just how excited both parties were to be talking about the ship in front of you and you were so focused on them that you didn’t notice a person approaching you, not until his shadow cast across your face and when you turned you saw a man who nearly knocked the wind out of you… he was tall and solid, arms straining against the short sleeves of his khaki uniform and you thought that no one should look good in that color yet here he was proving you wrong. His golden brown waves glistened in the direct sunlight and he had a slight smirk beneath a mustache that you really wanted to hate, but you really didn’t… he was handsome, potentially one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and here he was standing directly in front of you and you looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, ma’am,” he introduced, extending his hand for you to shake which you did as you gave him your name and a smile. “What brings you out today?”

“A bizarre fascination with ships the size of planets,” you replied and he laughed. It was warm and a little rough around the edges, much like you’d appraised him to be in your short interaction, and you wanted to hear it again.

“Well, my day wrapped up not too long ago and I couldn’t help but notice you waiting for a tour…” he started, leaning in slightly with a mischievous look on his face as if he was about to tell you a secret, “and between you and me, your tour guide is a dud.” he finished and you looked towards the man, tall, blonde and oozing charisma and you had a feeling Bradley was lying to you as you watched him charm the entirety of your group with one sentence… but you weren’t feeling too keen on calling him out on his fib.

“Oh no, is that so?” you replied, disappointment lacing your tone.

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I think you oughta let me take you up, make sure you get the tour you deserve,” he propositioned and you nodded, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“I think that might be for the best… for the sake of a thorough Navy education and all,” you said and he nodded, gesturing towards the ramp and he held out his hand for you to take as you pulled yourself onto the steep landing. His hand was warm in yours and all-encompassing as he held it and made sure you made it safely before letting it fall back to your side and you were almost a little disappointed when he did.

He led you into the cargo hold, a massive room filled with so many things your eyes had a hard time adjusting at first. You trailed alongside him as he explained everything to you, sparing no detail as he went and you were particularly fascinated by the boat that was rigged to be deployed at a moments notice, positioned right in front of a hatch door, and he told you it was primarily there for search and rescue missions as he rattled off information about how long it takes to get it down into the water and pointed out the crane used to move it around as needed.

You listened with rapt attention as you continued through, you added a quip or a question here and there but mostly you were hanging onto his every word as he pointed out things like their freezer and the gym, and you realized you might have been content to listen to this man read you his grocery list and you had to make a conscious effort to focus on the words themselves and not just the voice that was speaking them. As you made your way up a steep and narrow stairwell, so much so you might have described it closer to a ladder than stairs, he stayed right behind you where he could catch you if you fell and you tried to ignore the fact that his diligence almost made you want to fall.

“There’s a lot up here,” he said as he led you down a hallway lined with doors, “but it’s mostly just bunks and offices. We’re not technically supposed to show you this, but… I won’t tell if you won’t,” he added as he pushed one of the doors open and you pretended to lock your lips and throw away the key as you peeked inside, taking in the modest living quarters with multiple twin beds.

“So, this is where you sleep when you’re deployed?” you asked and he nodded, brow furrowing when you looked at him, clearly skeptical about something as your eyes trailed him top to bottom before returning to the beds in front of you, “how do you even fit?” you followed up and immediately you flushed, not meaning to ask that at all but it was the first thing that popped into your head and it flew out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Not comfortably, sweetheart,” he replied with a laugh and you smiled softly at the term of endearment as he shut the door and nodded for you to follow. He talked about the photos lining the walls, telling you who was who or what was what in the ones he recognized before you went up another stairwell and before you could walk through the door frame in front of you he placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned your head to look at him, an unasked question on your face, and he gave you that addictive smirk of his, “now this is the really fun part that very few people get to see,” he prefaced and you felt anticipation brimming as he kept his hands on you and guided you forward.

“Just breaking all the rules today aren’t you, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you replied and he wanted to tell you that you could just call him Bradley but one look at the mischief in your eyes told him you knew that… you just liked calling him Lieutenant and he liked hearing it too much to stop you. When you turned your attention forward you were faced with two beautiful jets right in front of you and you faltered for a moment, stunned by the sheer impressiveness of the aircrafts.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, careful of your step as you approached one of them and Bradley tried to commit that look of awe on your features to memory, his heart stuttering at the sight. You instinctively reached a hand out before snapping it back, realizing you probably shouldn’t be touching things with price tags you couldn’t comprehend.

He chuckled, “go ahead, it’s mine so do your worst.”

He thought you might get whiplash with how quickly you turned to face him, “yours? How have we made it through this whole tour without you mentioning you’re a pilot?”

“Thought I’d keep you on your toes,” he replied as you returned your focus to his jet, hand trailing along the smooth metal as you walked around it.

“I never thought I’d get to see an F/A-18 in person… at least not one that’s active,” you sighed, and now he was certain his heart had stopped in his chest. “Tops out at what, twelve hundred?” you asked and he blinked in surprise, only able to nod in response because he didn’t quite trust his words right now. He knew he liked you as soon as he saw you, so much so he was taking you on his tenth tour of the day when all he’d wanted to do previously was go to the bar, but now he was worried he was in a little over his head as you appreciated his jet, having identified it immediately without any help from him. “God, this is incredible, Bradley,” you said, maybe a little breathless from how excited you were and before you knew it he was disappearing, leaving you standing at the nose with a confused expression.

You laughed when he returned, rolling a ladder to the side of his jet and beckoning you over. He hadn’t anticipated you to know anything about planes, or really have any interest beyond the first minute of being in front of it, but now that he knew otherwise he wanted to show you everything. He held onto your hand as you took each step, trailing right behind you just as he had in the stairwells and when you got to the landing he started pulling the canopy back and you let out another soft gasp.

“Can you get in trouble for this?” you asked, turning to look at him. You knew private tours with high ranking pilots were not standard for Fleet Week, and you also knew this wasn’t an area most people would be allowed in, and you worried for a brief moment what would happen to him if anyone caught you.

He shook his head, “you’re accompanied by a Lieutenant, we’re fine,” he answered, smiling as you leaned over slightly to look inside his cockpit and his heart was thudding in his chest at the sheer wonder in your eyes. He started pointing out all of the controls, telling you what they did and why, and he answered your every question just as he had with the rest of the ship. “Sweetheart, I’ve gotta be honest… I’ve never met anyone who gave a damn about these jets that didn't work in or around them already.”

You pulled your attention back to him with an incredulous look, “how could they not?” you asked, and you wanted to keep your gaze on those pretty brown eyes that were locked on you, but the novelty hadn’t quite worn off yet and you looked back inside the jet. “I mean… this is next level engineering wrapped up in a pretty package, what’s better than that?” He thought you were beautiful when he saw you standing on your own with your hair blowing in the breeze and the sun kissing your skin, he thought you were beautiful when you laughed at his dumb jokes in the cargo hold, but right now he was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you slightly bent over and leaning into his cockpit as you truly appreciated the one thing he loved most in this world.

“Please let me take you on a date,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself and you looked at him a little surprised. You’d been hoping since he approached you that he’d ask, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little at the unexpected timing.

“Ask me again after the tour,” you replied with a smirk and though it vaguely sounded like rejection he couldn’t help but smile. If you wanted to make him work for it then he absolutely would. You asked him a question about the gauges and he told you exactly what they measured, and when you finally made your way back down the ladder he even let you sit on the second to last step as he wheeled it back to its place.

“Bradley!” you squealed when he whipped it around, hands bracing on the poles on either side of you and you were a little breathless when you were suddenly facing him, looking up at him as his strong hands gripped just above your head as he continued pushing you through the open area.

“Just wanted a better view,” he replied and you flushed at the compliment. Even though it was only two steps he still offered you his hand as you got off and of course you still accepted it, lingering for a moment before dropping it. He took you back through the carrier a different way than you’d came so he could show you absolutely everything, still narrating as he went. Truthfully, there wasn’t much difference on this route than the other but it was longer and he wanted to drag this out. He knew as soon as you stepped off the ship he wouldn’t have any reason to keep you longer than he already had, and he wanted to postpone that moment as long as he could.

When you entered the now familiar cargo hold you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, you didn’t want your time with Bradley to come to an end but it seemed it was inevitable as he led you down the ramp and back onto solid ground. Your eyes were bright when you turned to face him and you still had that smile on that hadn’t seemed to leave your face all day and it was another sight he wanted to commit to memory. You had surprised the hell out of him, turned his boring day around the second he saw you and he knew with certainty he couldn’t get enough of you… and you were in the exact same boat. You knew when you got here today you’d have a good time, that the other man Bradley insisted was a dud still would have given a good tour and you’d have gotten exactly what you came for but the man in front of you exceeded every one of your expectations and then some, and you weren’t looking forward to the moment you had to go back to your car and not have his eyes on you anymore.

“Bradley, that was…” you sighed, “that was incredible, I don’t really know how to thank you for that.”

“Let me take you out,” he replied easily and you flushed, the tour was over and he was wasting no time in asking you out again, and this time you let him.

You nodded, “I’m free tonight.” His grin was wide as he fished his phone out of his pocket for you to input your number, and you couldn’t help but mirror him when he told you to put your address as well so he could pick you up… if this was anyone else, if you hadn’t just spent the afternoon with him catering to your every query and whim, you would have told him no. You would have said you could meet him somewhere, but you trusted him. The few hours spent together showed you that you could, and that wasn’t lost on Bradley. If you’d said no he wouldn’t have even blinked, he would have suggested something else that made you more comfortable, but you didn’t say no… and that caused his chest to tighten as he looked down at your beautiful smile.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek and you felt your skin tingling as he pulled away. “Wear something comfortable.”

You nodded, a little curious as to what he could have planned but you could just tell if you asked he wouldn’t say, and you were more than happy to let this man surprise you. “I’ll see you tonight, Bradley.”

“And I’ll be counting down every second.”

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trickphotography2 · 1 month

Text

Wanna Dance with Somebody

When his girlfriend of three months ditches a night at the Hard Deck after a rough day, Bradley knows just what to do to cheer her up.

Word Count: 1.8K

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Off work yet?

Not yet. I have so much left to do in this last hour and a half.

Okay. Let me know when you’re on the way, and I’ll have your drink waiting.

Bradley glanced at his phone again to see if there was any update, only to see his last message left on read two hours later. Excusing himself from the pool table, he stepped out onto the patio of the Hard Deck.

You answered on the third ring. “Hey,” you said, exhaustion coloring your voice.

“Hey babe, just wanted to check where you were.” There was silence for a long moment before you sighed.

“Would…would you mind if I skipped out tonight? It’s been a shit day, and I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah,” he frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Just a lot. I still have about an hour of work before I can log off for the night. And some of the shit is going to be Monday’s problem.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No. As much as I appreciate it, no.” He could hear the smile in your tired voice. “Have a drink for me, tell everyone I said hi, and text me when you get home?”

“Will do, babe. Lo…lock up, alright?”

“Always do,” you replied, confused by his strange request. “Night.”

“Night.”

An hour and a half later, you shut down your computer and stowed it in your work bag, shoving that into the back of your closet. After changing into a pair of sweatpants and pulling on the wearable cat blanket that fell to your knees - Bradley had gotten it in a White Elephant Christmas exchange and shoved it into his closet, quickly giving it to you when you spied it the first time he made you dinner at his house and loved it - you shuffled toward the kitchen. Lunch had been a quick affair - a bag of chips and a mug of tea - since it had been a busy day. It was a busy week, to be honest. This time of year was always a shit show: people came out of the woodwork asking for help, projects that you pushed off were due, and new work started to pile up. It wasn’t until 3:00PM that you’d finished the stuff from yesterday and switched to today’s tasks.

You zoned out while watching the microwave heat up leftover pizza from the weekend and contemplated stress crying in the shower. A quick, cathartic cry would be a good kick-off to the weekend, but that would also require the effort of actually getting into the shower. Eating seemed like a monumental task, so showering would be even worse.

Beeping interrupted your musing, and you quickly silenced the microwave. The pizza was only lukewarm, but you ate it anyway. An open bottle of wine caught your eye when you refilled your water bottle, and you retrieved a wine glass from the cabinet. Thankfully, it was still carbonated after you’d shoved it onto the door shelf and jammed the stopper against the upper shelf. Pouring yourself a healthy measure, you retreated to the couch, tugging the blanket hood over your head.

With the lights off, you grabbed your phone and mindlessly scrolled social media while lying on the couch. A few videos made you chuckle, and you sent them to your friends. The sun had long set, but you had no motivation to turn on any of the lights in your home.

“Hey.”

“Fuck!” You shouted, jolting upright and sloshing the wine balanced beside you. The overhead living room light flicked on to reveal a smirking Bradley standing in the doorway.

“You alright?” He asked, trying to school his expression as you wiped wine from your hoodie, blinking at the sudden brightness.

“What are you doing here?” You demanded, glaring up at him. His mustache twitched as though he was trying not to grin - he had never seen you in “full gremlin mode,” as you called these nights, in the three months you’d been dating.

“Just coming to check on you and bring you this,” Bradley said, holding up a bottle of your favorite wine. Your eyes darted between it and his face, feeling your anger fade.

“Babe,” you groaned, setting your wine glass on the floor and pulling the hood down to cover your face as tears pricked your eyes. “You didn’t need to do that.” The carpet muffled his footsteps as he neared. Still, you heard the soft ‘thunk’ of the bottle and the metallic clanking of the spare key given to him to check your apartment when you went out of town for a conference hitting the coffee table before he gently pushed the fabric from your eyes.

“Bad day or long one?”

“A bit of both,” you shrugged. “This week’s been…” He nodded, thinking about what you’d shared over the last few days. Glancing at your wine glass, he grabbed the bottle by the neck and removed the foil.

“Sounds like you need something to make you feel better, baby.”

“Sex?” Throwing his head back laughing, Bradley twisted the wire cage keeping the cork in place.

“We can get to that. I was thinking about something else, though.” A loud ‘pop’ sounded as he pulled the cork from the bottle, retrieved your glass from the floor, and filled it before handing it back to you. Once the bottle was back on the table, he pulled out his phone and connected it to your Bluetooth speakers. “Ready?”

“For what?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The speaker started to play a familiar tune, followed by clapping. Bradley held out a hand to you, hips beginning to sway. “Clock strikes upon the hour,” he crooned with Whitney Houston, “and the sun begins to fade.”

Tossing your head back into the couch arm, you groaned as he sang along to I Wanna Dance with Somebody. When you didn’t take his hand, he playfully rolled his eyes, plucked his aviators from the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt, and put them to the tip of his nose. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to moonwalk on the carpet, hands closing around the unbuttoned sides of his shirt.

His hips swung, fingers snapping while he danced and spun across your living room, fist raised to sing into an invisible microphone. Biting your lip against laughing, you watched him shake his ass while sliding the shirt down his arms, glancing over his shoulder at you in a pantomime of strip tease. While Bradley wasn’t the best dancer, he was certainly enthusiastic. Once free from his shirt, he tossed it at you, moving around your living room and singing loudly. “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody!” He wiggled an eyebrow at you, which was what made you crack.

Laughing, you reached behind your head to turn on the floor lamp before pushing to your feet and going to turn off the overhead light. In the dim lighting, you watched him hold out a hand for you.

As soon as your finger slid over his, he tugged, lifting his arm to spin you under it and then back again. His hand on your waist was a gentle pressure, muffled by the thick fabric, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as he held you tightly and shimmied, crouching and hiding his grimace when his knees popped. On his way back up, his belt buckle caught on the fabric of your hoodie, tugging it upward.

Bradley towered over you, smiling as he serenaded and swayed in a rhythm too slow for the song. “I been in love and lost my senses, spinning through the town,” he crooned. You felt butterflies in your stomach at the sincerity shining in his eyes at those words.

“Sooner or later, the fever ends, and I wind up feeling down,” you joined in. “I need a man who'll take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls - ”

Grinning, Bradley twirled you, tugging so you fell into him when the chorus picked up. His lips grazed your forehead, mustache tickling your temple as he rasped, “Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me.”

Heart in your throat, you forced yourself to keep smiling as you danced. He was just singing the lyrics. Three months was too early to drop the ‘L’ word. When you pulled away, he caught your hands and spun you, crossing his arms over your front as your back pressed against his chest. His hold was a loose cage you had no desire to escape.

The song played as you swayed, head tipped back to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. The oversized hoodie, combined with the heat Bradley always threw, was getting to be overwhelming, but nothing could have made you move at that moment.

His hand lifted to gently stroke your jaw, light pressure encouraging your chin up so he could kiss you. The song faded, but you barely paid attention as he licked into your mouth. Your hand lifted to trace the scars on his cheek before cupping around the back of his neck, fingers curling hair that was getting tiptoeing the edge of being out of regulation.

There was a brief silence as the song ended before his playlist continued. “I need love, love, ooh, to ease my mind. And I need to find time, someone to call mine. My Mama said, ‘You can’t hurry love. No, you’ll just have to wait,” Phil Collins sang. Bradley chuckled against your lips.

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you asked, attempting to turn in his hold, but his tight grip stopped you.

“Nothin’,” he replied, nipping your lower lip. “How’d you feel about grabbing your wine and hitting the shower, honey?”

“I could go for shower wine.”

The only crying you did in the shower was when Bradley went to his knees, your leg over his shoulder as he took you apart with his fingers and tongue. His eyes were soft as he washed your hair, taking the time to massage the tension from your neck and shoulders. His lips crashed into yours as you stroked his cock, feeling his hot spend against your stomach until he backed you under the shower spray to clean you off.

Later, he tucked you into bed and curled up behind you, drawing lazy circles on your stomach. The repetitive motion, coupled with his soft breathing, was lulling you into a trance. You hovered there, in that liminal space between awake and sleep.

Bradley’s fingers paused, and he whispered your name. You felt the soft press of his lips against your shoulder, countering the gentle scratch of his mustache when you didn’t respond. “Love you, honey,” he whispered against your skin so softly you were sure you dreamt it.

“Love,” you mumbled, feeling Bradley’s arm tighten around you as you slipped over the edge into slumber.

Three months was too early to say you loved someone.

But it wasn’t too early to dream it.

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Author's Note: Started thinking about this fic after a rough day at work and then it got lost in my drafts folder. Needed a bit of a pick-me-up recently, so I revisited this fic. Thanks for reading!

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Taglist: @shanimallina87; @roosterforme

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x you

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hellosmuttydarling · 2 months

Text

Shower Time

Summary: Walking into the wrong place, at the wrong time, seems to work out in your and Rooster's favor. In which, some private time in the shower turns into something far better.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, oral sex, fantasizing. MINORS DNI.

Rooster wiped the sweat off his face with his towel as he entered the locker room. He could hear the shower running already and realized with a small flash of annoyance that it would mean he'd have to wait. He sat on the bench next to his locker and was about to pop in his headphones when he heard a sound.

A moan, to be exact. Rooster froze as he heard another one coming from the direction of the showers. When he stopped and listened, he realized that it was definitely a moan and a very distinct moan of pleasure. Only one person could be in that shower right now, making sounds like that.

You. Something had been between you two since you'd met on the first day of training; chemistry mixed with the competitiveness of the training made for a very frustrating relationship, but he couldn't help but be attracted to you. You were gorgeous and a great pilot but beyond infuriating.

The next moan left no doubt of what you were doing in there, and he could feel the heat washing over his body, his dick already hardening in his athletic shorts. His hands gripped the bench so hard that his knuckles turned white, and with each succeeding sound you made, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to walk over there.

"Bradley…" the moan was quiet and breathless. If he hadn't had all of his focus on what was going on over in that shower, he might have missed it. His decision was made instantly; he stood up, dropping his things onto the bench and peeling his shirt off before he stalked over to the shower.

The sight of you simultaneously took his breath away and also turned him into a man possessed; there was no way he was leaving this shower without fucking you senseless. You were standing there, naked and soaking wet, the water from the shower pouring down your body, following all of your curves, with your legs slightly spread and your hand in between them, circling your clit with your thumb as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

You were oblivious to the fact that Rooster was even there. The tension and flirting from the last week and a half had driven you crazy all night till you found yourself at the gym on base at 5:30 am, trying desperately to let off some steam. It almost worked until Bradley Bradshaw, of all people, walked in and, before long, was glistening with sweat, his breath coming out in hard, short bursts. All you could think about was seeing him like this but in a completely different setting, with far fewer clothes, and instead of lifting weights, he'd be lifting you.

It became too much when paired with the heated looks between you two, so you bailed back to the locker room, planning on taking a very long, icy cold shower before training.

You didn't know how you ended up here, getting yourself off to the same dirty thoughts you'd had while watching him work out. You did know two things: First, you desperately needed a release, and second, you were almost there.

Your fingers were delving in and out of your folds, your other hand playing with your breasts, when the voice you last expected to hear came from way too close, and your eyes snapped open.

"Want some help with that, honey?"

Fuck.

There was no use in covering up; you knew he'd already seen your entire naked body and that he'd seen what you were just doing. He'd almost certainly heard you moaning his name, too.

Fuuuuuuck.

"You could have at least let me cum before interrupting me, Bradshaw." You did your best to sound nonchalant, and luckily, your face was already flushed, so he wouldn't be able to see the heat of embarrassment rising to your cheeks.

"Bradshaw, huh? Just a second ago, it was Bradley." He sauntered over to you, and you looked him up and down, taking in his incredibly delicious shirtless form.

"I'd call you Bradley again if you hadn't just ruined my orgasm." He finally reached you, stepped into your personal space, and backed you up until you were pressed against the cold tile of the shower. One of his hands came up to rest on the wall next to your head, and the other came to rest on your bare hip, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. Your traitorous, dirty mind sending thoughts of what that would feel like somewhere else.

"I'm sorry. How about I make it up to you?" He'd leaned down so that your lips were a breath away from meeting his.

"And how are you planning to do that?"

"I'll show you right now if you'll let me." Bradley was ever the gentleman.

You didn't say anything in response, answering instead by pulling him in for a heated kiss. Kissing him was everything you'd hoped and dreamed it would be. He was a phenomenal kisser, clearly experienced, and while you hated to admit it, clearly dominated you in every delicious aspect.

There was no point in wasting time when he already knew you'd been about to cum at the thought of him. The hand on your hip quickly moved to your thigh to lift your leg and hook it around his hip so he could be closer to you.

You could feel how hard he was, even through the shorts he was still wearing; his cock was pressed against your stomach. You trailed your hand down his chest to his stomach, dipping just slightly underneath the waistband, enough to tease him just a little bit. His abs contracted under your touch, and his fists clenched at his sides. What little clothes he wore were quickly getting drenched under the shower spray, but he didn't seem to care at all.

You broke apart for air, and he immediately went for your neck, kissing and biting his way down; you moaned as he got to just the right spot. Hearing your reaction, he doubled down with a hard suck, sure to leave a bruise, but at that moment, you didn't care.

Your hand went into his shorts, grasping his dick firmly, and marveled at the size. You couldn't see it, but fuck could you feel it, and goddamn, did you want it inside you. His head dropped to your shoulder as you started to pump his length with your hand, a quiet groan escaping him.

"Fuck," It took all his willpower to stop you, pulling your hand away from him. "I believe I owe you something."

"Yes, you do." Before you could blink, he dropped to his knees in front of you, pulling your thigh up over his shoulder and slowly kissing his way up your thigh.

"What were you picturing? When you moaned my name?" He said as he inched higher, his positively sinful brown eyes locked on yours. Had his eyes always been this dark?

"Not this," he bit down lightly at the most sensitive part of your inner thigh. "You, inside me. My legs were on your shoulders as you fucked me against the wall, hard."

As a reward for answering his question, he finally moved right where you wanted him. He used his hand to separate your folds, and then his mouth was on your clit, his tongue starting slowly and softly before starting to work up his rhythm.

You were a mess of moaning and pleading. Rooster ate you out like a fucking professional, listening to every intake of breath and every moan, having quickly learned what you liked and how to use it to get you undone, and fast.

"Holy fuck," Soon, two of his fingers joined his efforts, delving inside you, matching the pace of his tongue. "Goddamn, Bradley…"

You knew there was no way you would last like this, not with how amazing he was making your body feel. You were practically seeing stars and were begging him not to stop. A true testament to his experience, he didn't slow down or speed up, knowing how close you were. He maintained the speed and rhythm that was already driving you crazy.

"Bradley… I'm going to cum…" You looked down at him, kneeling in front of you, leg thrown over his shoulder, dark eyes locked on yours, as he ate you out like he was on a fucking mission. The sight alone had you starting to fall over the edge, but when his fingers curled and hit just the right spot, you plummeted head-first into her orgasm. "Fuck!"

Another testament to his experience, he knew exactly what to do to prolong your orgasm without ruining it, leaving you a shaking, moaning mess. Soon, though, your flesh became far too sensitive, and you pulled him up to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his mustache. You'd never been a big mustache girl, but on him, you loved it.

"Please tell me that you're going to fuck me now," you all but whined when you pulled apart. The answering smirk on his face promised delightful things.

"Your wish is my command," He pushed his shorts and underwear down his legs and kicked them to the side, and you finally got your first look at his hard cock. You thought it was big before when you'd felt it, but now you could see that it was huge, and for a second, you worried it might not even fit, but you decided that you didn't care. "Come here."

You obliged, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought your lips back together and picked you up in one fluid motion. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, and from the new position, you could feel the tip of his dick rubbing against you, and all you could think about was that you needed more. He pushed you back into the wall before pausing to look at you.

"Are you sure?" You both knew that after this, there would be no going back to how it used to be.

"Yes." It was all the confirmation he needed, pushing into you gently but firmly. You couldn't help but gasp at the intrusion, feeling mildly like you were being split in half, but it was both slightly painful and exquisite because you had never felt this full before. Your gasp was met with a deep moan from Rooster as he seated himself to the hilt.

"You're so fucking tight," He gave you a second to adjust, and when you nodded, he withdrew almost completely, just to bury himself nice and deep. He swallowed your moan with a kiss, your tongues battling for dominance as he fucked you slowly.

Soon that familiar pressure was building up slowly in your body, and you knew that when you came, you were going to cum hard.

"Hold on to me." You nodded, not able to form words as he shifted your legs from his waist to having the crook of your knees slung over his elbows, changing the angle and allowing him even deeper. With his next thrust, you almost screamed but managed to choke it down.

In this new position, he set a grueling pace, fucking you hard and fast, with you doing your damnedest to not be too loud, but the way he was fucking you made that incredibly difficult. You were getting so close to reaching that peak again when the door to the locker room opened and slammed shut.

The two of you froze instantly, not wanting to be caught in a more than compromised position but unable to separate without making quite a bit of noise. You could make out a few muffled voices belonging to some of your squadmates but had no idea what they were saying. Someone must have noticed Rooster's things on the bench because soon they called out to him.

"Rooster? That you?" Fanboy called from far too close for comfort. The only bit of luck that seemed to be on your side was that even if one of them came into the showers, they wouldn't see any part of you besides your arms and legs, as opposed to the unobstructed view they'd have of Rooster's incredible ass and chiseled back.

"Yeah." His dick was still hard and practically pulsing inside you. Your brain and body were currently fighting a desperate battle over wanting to finish what they'd started but not wanting to be caught fucking on base, in the locker room, right before training.

"We're going to grab breakfast. Are you in?"

"Yeah, I'll, uh, meet you there."

"Sounds good." The voices drift further away, and you both hear the door again open and shut. Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you released the breath you'd held.

"It is, apparently, not my morning." You said against his skin, and he responded with a dry chuckle.

"Not mine, either." You gasped slightly as he gently pulled out and set you back on solid ground. You pulled away from him and took in his face for a second, the tensing in his jaw and darkened eyes. He was the picture of annoyance, and you were positive your face mirrored his.

"I'm going to get out of here before we risk being discovered, for real this time," you leaned up and kissed him one last time, purposefully keeping it short, not wanting to be any more sexually frustrated than you already were. "Come find me later?"

"You got it, honey." You rinsed off and headed out of the shower, ignoring every part of you that wanted to say fuck it and turn around.

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

The Parent Trap 👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 | Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw Imagine

Inspired by Disney’s ‘The Parent Trap’

Link to my TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x novelist female!reader (romantic), Lila L/n and Caroline Bradshaw!OCs (daughters), Marilyn Brooks!OC (Bradley’s love interest), Ollie Tomas (platonic, Y/n’s bff), Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell (platonic) & Hannix (Phoenix x Hangman)

Content Warnings: fluff, light angst, profanity, pregnancy & childbirth, separated twins, second chance romance troupe, assault (reader punches a character) | female reader—afab!reader (she/her) | wc: 18k+ this is long folks.

Premise: It was quite literally love at first sight for aspiring aviator Bradley Bradshaw and writer Y/n L/n, but the relationship ended as fast as it started. It did result in the birth of their beautiful identical twin daughters, Lila and Caroline—but even they couldn’t keep them together. An agreement was made in the divorce, Caroline would grow up with Bradley, and Lila would be raised by Y/n so the former couple never had to see each other again. What neither anticipated, however, were the sisters coming face-to-face at summer camp the year they turned 14…..and forming the ultimate parent trap to reunite their parents for a second chance at love.

Note: I rewatched ‘The Parent Trap’ the other night and gosh I remembered how much I loved that movie as a kid. I immediately got to writing this because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Just to be clear I do NOT support the idea of separating children especially twins & not tell them. This is of course for fictional purposes & I do not own Disney, The Parent Trap or the TGM characters. Hope you enjoyed! (Also I envisioned Dan Levy as Ollie when I wrote this & Margot Robbie as Marilyn😂

Thank you guys so so much for 1k!!!! I’m over the moon and cannot believe that I hit 1k just as I’m celebrating 1 year of coming back to this writing account and actually keeping up with works ! 🥹🥹 I love you all and appreciate all the kind words left on my stories 🤍🤍 you guys are the best!! — Bee 🐝

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“I know you’re upset, honey,” Y/n brushed Lila’s dirty blonde hair behind her ear, “But it’s for the best. Just think before you know it’ll be the holidays and then next summer I’ll fly you out there.” All she got in response was a sad nod, the fourteen-year-old turning to look out the window. Sunny California soon turned into cloudy New York as the plane traveled from coast to coast. The entire journey the novelist thought back to the past two weeks, which did nothing to heal her aching heart. Not only did she mourn leaving behind her second daughter, but she mourned what could’ve been with the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with almost fourteen years ago.

The one who made her believe in love at first sight.

In 2006, aspiring writer Y/n L/n was on the verge of college graduation, planning to move to New York City in hope of accomplishing her dream of becoming a New York Times bestselling author.

For as long as she could imagine writing stories was her escapism from the hardships of reality. A hopeless romantic, most of her work was romance—dabbling in fantasy or historical fiction from time to time but keeping a romance troupe involved. She first started writing fanfiction on the internet when it was just starting out, focusing on some of her favorite characters which resulted in her profile becoming popular with readers. It soon progressed to her attempting to write an actual novel.

The story she envisioned to write one day was keeping her up at night, so she finally sat her ass down the summer going into her senior year and started writing. In between classes and working at the campus library at UVA, where she was studying literature and psychology, Y/n was nose deep in her Apple iBook she literally got because of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde. Pages upon pages, the words flew from her mind and onto the screen, forming dialogue and descriptions. She didn’t know what would come of the book, unsure if she would even send it to literary agents and publishers once completed, but for now it was purely for her entertainment.

After all, look at Stephenie Meyer. Home girl wrote a book based on a dream and it turned out to be one of the bestselling series of all time.

Graduation came in a blur. Her plan was to go to the ceremony, get her diploma, and then head back to her place to finish writing. She was only a few chapters from being done. The last thing she wrote was the big twist which could be the make or break for the main character to be with the love interest, all that was needed was the resolution.

What Y/n didn’t expect that night was going to a party, at the insistence of her friend, and meeting who she believed was the man of her dreams.

Bradley Bradshaw was everything a girl would fawn over. Handsome, funny, flirty, the life of a party, who had dreams and aspirations. While his friends clowned him for having the typical 80s porstache, they secretly envied how well he pulled it off. Which was obvious by the amount of women throwing themselves at him.

Y/n’s friend had her eyes on him that night….but little did they both know, he had eyes for Y/n.

The second she walked in he was drawn to her. “Who’s that?” He asked his buddy, Fabian, interrupting him from his flirting with a pretty redhead. Annoyed, Fabian looked in the direction of Bradley’s gaze, catching Y/n in his line of sights.

“You talkin’ about the girl in the white pantsuit? That’s I think Y/n if I remember—we had psych 101 together ages ago. She doubled majored with English and worked at the library….” he raised a brow at Bradley, who was already walking toward Y/n with a determined look on his face.

Her friend Tanya spotted him first, immediately smiling with hopeful eyes. Only it fell to a small frown when she realized he wasn’t looking at her, but Y/n.

“Hi,” the greeting has Y/n turn around, red solo cup in hand and becoming puzzled at the sight of a gorgeous man standing behind her.

“U-uh hello.”

Bradley extends a hand, “I’m Bradley.” Y/n shakes it, both flinching when a spark ignites at the contact.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n,” he beams, now aware she wasn’t alone. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you’d like to dance?”

“Oh um,” she glances at Tanya, seeing her saddened look and becomes apologetic. “I-I don’t know…”

“Just one,” he insists, “and then I promise to leave you alone afterwards.”

Y/n still appeared hesitant, not wanting to upset Tanya further, but the woman gives her a soft smile, “go on,” she takes the cup from Y/n, “I’ll be right here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. In fact,” Tanya bites her lip when she connects eyes with a guy she had a class with the previous semester. One she thought was cute and wouldn’t mind getting to know. When he gives her a wave and gestures for her to come over, Tanya blushes, “I’ll be over there talking to Grayson. Take all the time you need.” She was already on the move before Y/n could say anything else, leaving her with Bradley.

“Sooo…” he holds out a hand, nodding his head to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the house the party was at.

Heart racing, Y/n gives a small smile and takes his hand, letting him lead her to the floor. It was the first time a guy had asked her to dance at a party. Though she didn’t date or go out much in college, the times she did Y/n often got left alone because Tanya or one of their roommates/friends were hit on and she didn’t. Plus with school, work, and writing her book, a social life was pretty much nonexistent.

One dance became two, then three, and four. Before she knew it three a.m rolled by and she and Bradley had danced and talked the whole night, ending with the two sitting in the back of his Bronco with sonic Route 44s and milkshakes. Never had Y/n laughed as hard as she did that night, almost to the point of tears. There was warmth all through her veins, even after the two parted ways, only sharing a sweet kiss when he dropped her off at her apartment.

It was the closest thing she felt to love at first sight.

Maybe it truly was.

Things went by fast. Literally. So fast it was starting to make Y/n worried. Not only were the feelings getting stronger, but the terms of the relationship in general. Within a weeks they were living together, Bradley going as far as to propose to Y/n with the news of his commission into the U.S Navy.

“Marry me, Y/n,” he told her after the ceremony, the shiny Ensign ranks on the color of his uniform. “I know it sounds crazy, but I wanna share my life with you—every part of it. Till the day I die.”

Part of her was conflicted but the overwhelming love for Bradley had Y/n say yes. That weekend they were at the courthouse, exiting as Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw.

But unfortunately the love story ended before it could really begin.

A few short weeks after the wedding, Y/n found out she was pregnant while Bradley was at flight school. It terrified her as much as it excited her. They were only twenty-two, with Bradley’s Naval career just starting out and Y/n trying to get her food in the door on hers. Having double majored in literature and psychology there were many career paths she could go into. Many would involve her having to get a Masters, but the couple were already paying off student loans from undergrad that she didn’t want to have to take out anymore financial aid.

Personally Y/n wanted to write books. She had yet to finish the one from college, with plenty more ideas safely tucked in her mind. The news of her pregnancy would have to put any potential job on hold.

Bradley was beyond excited when she told him, lifting her in his arms with glee, “I’m gonna be a dad!” His excitement was what really made Y/n look forward to bringing their baby into the world. She still had worries no doubt but having Bradley, who was now known to his fellow aviators as Rooster, made it easier.

But the couple were in for a much bigger surprise.

“TWINS?!” They both shrieked in the hospital room, eyes bulging the monitor showcasing two sacs in Y/n’s womb. Rooster nearly went into cardiac arrest, the woman bursting into tears which had him hold her tightly in his arms. Lips pressed to her head as he mumbled, “We got this baby. This is exciting! Just think, they’ll be best friends forever.”

“And it looks like,” the technician moved the wand across Y/n’s stomach a bit more to get a better angle. “You are gonna be blessed with two girls, Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw.” That had Y/n cry even more, Rooster shedding his own at the excitement and love that filled him.

“Girls,” he breathed in awe, kissing all over his wife’s face making her cries turn into giggles. “We’re having little girls—I’m so happy, Y/n. I can’t thank you enough for giving me this gift.”

In April of 2007 Lila and Caroline Bradshaw arrived. Identical twins who literally could not be told apart unless they were dressed differently. So the couple bought matching necklaces with gold pendants on each with the letters ‘C’ and ‘L’ for each girl. That way they could always know who was who.

Named after his mother, Caroline was a daddy’s girl even as a newborn. The only time she ever really wanted Y/n was when she was hungry, other than that little Caroline wanted to be in Bradley’s arms. She’d fall asleep in them, whine if she were in someone else’s, and make grabby hands for him when he’d come home. Caroline’s personality resembled Rooster’s, literally the life of the party whenever people were over.

Lila on the other hand was her momma’s mini me. The name came from a character in Y/n’s book. Not the protagonist, but the best friend who Y/n enjoyed writing for more than the main character. It was a name she always loved, and the moment Y/n’s eyes landed on the baby girl the name was perfect for her. Opposite of her sister, Lila was quiet and reserved. She loved to be held by Y/n and would beg for her attention. Like Caroline was a daddy’s girl, Lila was momma’s angel.

Life seemed to be good. It was good.

But then when the twins turned six months, things started to sour. They were living in Virginia with Bradley assigned to the Golden Warriors and Y/n was at home taking care of the girls. She’d get a little bit of writing done within the week but had major writer's block. Almost twice a week she and Bradley were arguing over something whether it was money, work, or the girls. They’d go to bed with their backs facing each other, Bradley leaving in the morning with little to no goodbye and when he’d return home he’d be so exhausted the two would rarely talk like they used to.

It was apparent the honeymoon stage was over. Both realizing it just wasn’t working out and even with their daughters the relationship was becoming strained.

What really ended everything was the night of the officer’s ball. A disrespectful comment was made to Y/n about wanting to be a published romance author by one of Bradley’s superiors. And he didn’t stand up for her. In fact, the man had the audacity to laugh with the men.

Heartbroken and pissed off, Y/n threw her napkin onto the table and removed herself without permission to be excused. Everyone stared with wide eyes, Bradley’s superiors watching with disapproval and making snide comments to the licensed pilot. Now he was angry, feeling humiliated by the scene and raced after his wife with an apology to the guests.

When they got outside both were feeling the heat. Spitting off words that they knew were going to fuel the fire.

“What the fuck was that, Y/n?”

“What the fuck was that?” She repeated with malice, “How fucking dare you sit there and laugh while they insult me! I’m your fucking wife, Bradley—you’re supposed to stand up for me! Instead you humiliated me!”

The entire drive home they were silent. Rooster’s knuckles were practically white with how hard he was gripping them, Y/n breathing heavily to control the anger. Not even the radio was playing. Only silence filled the void of the impeding argument that was to continue when they got home.

The door of the Bronco slamming alerted the babysitter, the teenage daughter of their neighbors, who met them outside with a smile only to frown when Bradley stormed past her. “Is everything—,” she went to ask but Y/n stopped her.

“Everything’s fine.” It was far from fine but she didn’t need to know that. Y/n removed a small wad of cash from her clutch, handing it to the girl. “This is for you. Thanks for all your help, Molly.”

When Y/n got in she checked on her girls first and then met Bradley in the bedroom to get out of the god forsaken dress she started to feel claustrophobic in. It wasn’t even fifteen seconds later before the couple were at it again. They tried to keep quiet for the sake of their daughters asleep just down the hall but nothing could stop the shouts from escaping.

“What was I supposed to do?” Rooster throws his arms out, face red. “Tell him to shut the fuck up? I have to work with him, Y/n. I see him every goddamn day—you want me to make my life miserable? Cause he’ll make sure that happens.”

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you fucking serious, Bradley? You’re so worried about having to do more pushups than people or get hazed than standing up for me? Your own wife?! Yeah, I wanted you to tell him to shut the fuck up—I would’ve done it if was my boss! Because you’re my husband and I wouldn’t let somebody insult you like he did me!”

He sarcastically laughs, bringing his hands up to rub his face, “You know, you’re acting like a fucking lunatic right now.”

The comment had Y/n still, eyes widening as the alarms went off in her head. She waited for him to take it back, but when he didn’t all she could do was make a pained sound, turning away from him before the tears could spill. Exiting their room, Y/n went to the closet where they stored luggage. When she returned she had her large suitcase and a baby bag.

“What are you doing?” She ignored him, starting to throw random clothes in the bag from her dresser. Rooster, came around the bed staring at her in disbelief. “Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Bradley,” she hissed, still not looking at him. “I’m fucking packing and getting the hell out this house. And I’m taking the girls with me.”

“The hell you are!” He shouts, going after her when she enters the bathroom. “You’re not taking my daughters. Especially when I don’t know where the hell you’re going.”

“I’ll figure it out,” she gathers her makeup, skincare, hair care and shower necessities. “Maybe I’ll finally go to New York like I planned before I met you.”

“And what are you gonna do there?” He challenged from the doorway. Y/n felt her hand tighten over the first item in her hand, which happened to be a hair dryer. She could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, praying to God he wouldn’t actually say what would really tear her heart in pieces.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” But Bradley was too far gone before he could stop himself.

“Finish that book? The one you’ve been writing for almost three years and have yet to finish? And then actually get it published?” He chuckled sarcastically, breaking her soul when he added, “Yeah, sure you are. How about you wake up and start thinking about reality—where you should work on getting an actual career that’s gonna support your daughters instead of living in a fairytale.”

The hairdryer left her hand with a literal battle cry, causing Bradley to jump out of the way with a curse, the object hitting the side of his arm. When it bounced on the ground before stopping just by the bed, the couple stared at each other as though they couldn’t believe what had happened. Both were breathing heavily, Y/n’s makeup smudged with tears rolling down her face.

“Fuck you,” she whispered, seeing the immediate regret in his eyes, though no words of the sort followed. Y/n brought a hand up, turning away from him when he said her name. “Fuck you, Bradley.” She heard him leave, the door closing behind him allowing her to succumb to her emotions. The rest of the time she packed her things Y/n fought back sobs. She wouldn’t let him see her like that. That he had hurt her beyond what she could’ve imagined.

The way he took her dream and basically slapped her in the face with it. He knew she was dealing with writer’s block and had trouble focusing on the ending with having to take care of their girls. And not to mention she gave up her pursuits to follow him.

No more.

Zipping up her suitcases, Y/n picked up the wedding photo of her and Bradley. There were not many photos of them printed out and none were hung on the walls just because they would have to move with his job, but the two photos they did have were of their little courthouse wedding and the day the twins were born.

Tears rolling down her cheek, Y/n removed the photo from the frame and tore it down the middle before doing the same with the one of them and the girls. The piece with Bradley looking down at her in the wedding and the one of him holding Lila were folded and placed in her purse, leaving the one of her in her wedding dress and the one holding Caroline. She secretly put them in the drawer of his nightstand, letting him decide what he plans to do with them once she’s gone.

She couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but it was for the best in order for them to not have to deal with a nasty custody dispute. Already she could feel a bit of her heart missing. The piece reserved for Caroline.

After quietly packing Lila’s things, Y/n rolled her suitcases down the hall and placed the baby bag on top. Rooster was in the kitchen drinking a beer, ignoring when she came into the living room to gather all the things she had there.

“I have an offer,” she approached when she was done, keeping her gaze on the ground. Y/n feared she wouldn’t be able to say it if she looked into his eyes.

“What,” his voice was monotone, evident he was tired and wanting to get whatever argument out of the way so they could move on.

“I can’t stay here,” she told him, noticing him stiffening in the corner of her eye. “I just can’t, Bradley. We both know this was a long time coming and tonight was just the nail in the coffin. We’re not a good fit—we both want different things. And I can’t even look at you without wanting to scream.” She took a deep breath to calm herself, “I never want to see you again after tonight…so I don’t wanna have to go through a custody battle with you.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to work out?” She could hear the heartbreak in his tone, getting tight with each word like he would explode if she took both girls.

Y/n let out a tired sigh, squeezing her eyes shut, “we both know Caroline prefers you, and Lila prefers me.” She waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t she knew he silently agreed. The next words that left her set in stone the next decade in a half of her life, “So I’ll take Lila with me and you raise Caroline. That way they have one of us and we never have to see each other again.” Again Bradley doesn't respond so Y/n softly says, “I’ll call a lawyer in the morning. For now I’m sleeping in the girls room.”

‘Come after me,’ she silently thought, a part of her hoping he would and convince her she was wrong and they could work this out.

‘Go after her,’ his brain screamed at him, not wanting to let go of the woman of his dreams.

But he stayed where he stood.

Twelve hours later the couple sat in the office of a divorce lawyer with papers drawn up indicating Y/n would have custody of Lila, retaining her maiden name and legally changing the girl’s to L/n, and Bradley would have custody of Caroline. They removed their rings, Y/n wiping away a tear when she did, before the two returned to the home to gather Y/n’s things.

Once the car was packed Y/n cradled Caroline while Bradley held Lila, the two facing away from each other to not show the other their emotion.

“I love you so much, sweet girl,” she whispered against Caroline’s tiny head, careful to not let her tears drop on her. Kissing her crown, Y/n softly said, “Our paths will cross again one day. But until then, I hope you have the best life and be a good girl for your daddy. You’ll always be my Caroline, my sweet girl.”

A few yards away, Bradley was saying his own words of love to Lila. “Promise me you won't give your momma too much trouble, Lila darlin’. You two take care of each other,” he kisses her forehead, eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I’ll see you again one day. I love you darlin’. You’ll always have a piece of me.”

The former couple barely glanced at each other or spoke a word the entire time Bradley was securing Lila in her car seat and Y/n reluctantly handing Caroline over. Her heart skipped, clenching at the same time Bradley surprised her by giving a soft kiss to her forehead, muttering for her to have a safe trip. Y/n only nodded, moving to the driver's seat and backing out of the driveway before pulling onto the road. Y/n finally allowed the tears to fall when she exited the gate for the last time.

When she got to her parents house roughly five hours later Y/n wanted to just go to sleep but her mind wouldn’t let her.

No, in fact, it wanted her to write.

The final piece of the book that had been nagging her for years finally played in her head. Everything from the dialogue to the final scene.

While her parents spent time with Lila, both of whom voiced their unhappiness with her decision to leave behind Caroline, Y/n’s eyes were focused on the screen in front of her. The only time she took breaks was to have dinner, use the bathroom, have downtime with Lila before putting her to bed, and share a glass of wine with her mother. Other than that, Y/n was writing until the early hours of the morning—going as far as to make edits to earlier parts of the book and change things she felt were unnecessary.

By the time the clock hit 4 am, Y/n was in need of a melatonin and 8 hours of sleep. But she was done. Done with the book she had spent so much time trying to get done. It was as though leaving Bradley was the awakening she needed to get it finished.

How fucking sad when one thinks about it.

That mid-morning, after popping a melatonin and sleeping for a few hours before having to tend to Lila, Y/n’s parents were visibly shocked by the difference in her behavior from the previous day. Of course Y/n was still deeply saddened by everything and they could tell it was affecting her, but there was also a sense of hope in her eyes. When asked about it all Y/n responded was, “I finished the book.”

Between looking for small two bedroom apartments in New York and part-time jobs, Y/n edited her book. For about six months she lived with parents, celebrating Lila’s first birthday where Y/n cried herself to sleep at not being able to do the same to Caroline. But then again, she had no one to blame but herself.

The break of a lifetime came a week after Lila’s birthday when Y/n finally got a response from one of five literary agents she had sent her inquiry to. “Hello Ms. L/n, Thank you for sending your inquiry. I’ve read your submission and am intrigued about your book. Please send me a copy of your full manuscript either through my email or a printed version to the address I have listed below. I’m interested to see what you have written and hope you get back to me soon. Sincerely, Yolanda Richards.”

Over the moon, Y/n sent a printed copy to Yolanda the next day. Nerves filled her with what the agent would think and if she would have her as a client. After researching for weeks on literary agents, Yolanda Richards was one of the best in the romance genre, with multiple NYT bestsellers under her name plus success at getting movie deals for the books. If Y/n became one of her clients it would be a dream come true.

The email came the following Friday: “Y/n, I am very pleased with your work and thoroughly enjoyed your story. Everything about it was captivating from start to finish. I would love to have you as a partner by representing you in getting your book published and on the market. Please give me a call or email me so we can set up an in-person meeting as soon as possible. I hope you accept my offer and I look forward to possibly working with you. Sincerely, Yolanda Richards.”

Almost 13 years later……Summer of 2021

Caroline’s heart was racing. She’d never been so nervous in her entire life than when the plane approached the New York skyline, the first time her hazel eyes had ever witnessed it. Even when she and her father were living in Virginia he seemed to avoid the city like the plague. Always insisting they go somewhere else for a vacation whenever she begged.

Now here she was at JFK airport about to meet the woman she dreamed of knowing all her life.

The whole journey Caroline thought back to the eight weeks of summer camp she’d just experienced. It was like fate had decided to work its magic on the third day when she came face-to-face with a girl who looked exactly like her. Though it’s rumored everyone has at least seven doppelgängers in their lifetime scattered across the globe, something about Lila L/n was different than a typical look-a-like. They were too alike physically. Dirty blonde hair with hazel eyes and standing tall at 5’5, the two were a carbon copy of one another with the exception of Lila having longer hair and bangs. “Actual twins” their campmates would say, but were complete opposites in terms of personality.

For example, Caroline dressed like she was going to the beach no matter the weather and had a knack for old music whereas Lila had more sweaters than t-shirts in her suitcase. Then Lila had an expanded vocabulary like she always was reading a poem in a fancy New York accent yet Caroline could barely tell the difference between there, their, and they’re. Lastly, Caroline was laid back and the extroverted jokester of the camp compared to Lila’s reserved, introverted, goodie-two-shoes nature.

Their rivalry was bound from the start. The end of the first week had the two already pissing off the counselors with the pranks against each other and their friend groups. Halfway through the camp duration was when the counselors had enough and placed them in the isolation cabin to settle their differences.

It was in the isolation cabin where suspicions became realizations.

First it started when both admitted to having a peanut allergy and their favorite food was chicken Alfredo pasta. They both loved romantic comedies and playing piano, neither a fan of licorice or dill pickles.

Finally feeling a friendship starting, Caroline complimented Lila’s necklace, who said it was a gift to her on the day she was born and had her initial on the pendant. Voicing the same, Caroline showed her own necklace with the same pendant only with a ‘C’ on it instead of ‘L’. That’s when Lila asked what day Caroline was born, both confirming they had the same birthday of April 21st, 2007.

Heart pumping with an feeling she couldn’t explain, Caroline revealed she was raised by her dad, who was a Navy fighter pilot and they were currently living in San Diego. “It’s only ever been me and him. He said he and my mom split when I was six months old.”

“No way,” Lila sat up in her bed, feeling the same emotion as Caroline. “I was raised by my mom. We moved to New York when I was a year old and have been there ever since. She told me when I was ten she and my dad divorced when I was six months old and he was in the Navy.”

Pushing aside her bag of hot Cheetos, Caroline began asking a series of questions. “My dad never said much about my mom, but at least once a year would give me some details of what she was like when I begged him. He said one year she had dreams of becoming a writer. What does your mom do?”

Lila’s eyes widened, “She’s an author—she’s written over ten romance novels.”

“Did your mom ever tell you how she and your dad met?”

“They met in college—at a graduation party to be exact. He asked her to dance.”

By now Caroline was gripping her hair, “Did they go to sonic afterwards where they had milkshakes and—.”

“Route 44s,” Lila finished, covering her mouth slightly. The reaction had Caroline racing to her desk to rummage through the drawer. When she faced Lila again, she was holding something to her chest.

“When my parents divorced my mom left behind two ripped photographs. One is of her holding me as a baby, the other is of her wedding day with my dad. They make up halves to a photo—but I‘ve never seen the rest. My dad doesn’t even know I have them.”

Gasping, Lila goes to her own desk and takes out a folder. Flipping through pages she gathers the two images in her own hands before turning back to the teenager. “These are the only photos I have of my dad. Like you, one is of him holding me in the hospital, the other is him in his uniform from the day he married my mom. They were ripped down the middle from the original photo.”

As though they read each other’s mind, the two started walking toward each other, already tearing up at the possibility that what they suspected was true. “On the count of three,” Lila softly said, “we show each other. Okay?”

“Okay,” Caroline agreed with a nod. They started to count down.

“One,” Lila took a step forward.

“Two,” Caroline echoed, mirroring her movement.

“Three!” Gasps left both girls when they extended their arms, each holding a half of the photograph, and slowly put them together. One showed Y/n and Bradley on their wedding day, smiling at each other looking as though they were the happiest people on earth, the other of them holding their daughters. Caroline in Y/n’s arms, and Lila in Bradley’s.

“That’s my dad!” Caroline beamed, in disbelief at the sight before her. There her father was with the beautiful woman she dreamed of meeting. Her mother.

“That’s my mom,” Lila sniffed, the teen overcome with emotion. Once they gathered themself over the initial shock they both couldn’t help but shout, “We’re twin sisters!!” Embracing in a hug filled with glee and laughter.

The idea that came to their head moments later was crazy, but after talking and voicing how they want to meet the other’s parents, the decision was made. Caroline and Lila would switch places. And they were gonna get their parents back together.

Lila told Caroline how their mom was a hopeless romantic at heart despite not having a long term relationship since their dad. The same was for Bradley apparently, Caroline confessing he only had maybe three serious girlfriends but the relationships ended because they couldn’t handle the lifestyle he was in. Or the fact he was a single father.

For the next four weeks the twins learned all about the other’s life and what to expect. “Mom wrote her first book in college around the time she met dad, but she didn’t get it finished until after they divorced. Since then she’s written ten novels—including a trilogy about to be adapted into a movie series and is currently working on a sequel to her debut book that her supporters have been begging for her to write for years. Most of her inspiration comes from what she hopes to experience,” Lila pauses to make a face, “Now that I think about it actually, her second book almost resembles her love story with dad….it’s the only one without a happy ending.” That had the twins frown, feeling more determined with their mission of getting their parents back together.

“This is the Dagger Squad,” Caroline showed Lila the pictures on her phone when the counselors gave them back for the weekend. “My dad went on a special mission two years ago before the pandemic and became friends with the people he did it with. Phoenix,” she points to the pretty brunette pilot, “well Natasha, I’ve known her since I was a baby. She and her husband have been friends with dad since flight school. And this is Maverick,” she scrolls to the next picture of her with a middle aged man in a flight suit, “He’s basically like our surrogate grandpa since dad’s parents passed away a long time ago. They were estranged for some time but became friends again after the mission.”

Lila explained the layout of their mother’s Manhattan home where they along with Y/n’s parents lived. “We always sit down to eat in the dining room as a way to have family time since mom is usually in her office writing or in meetings,” Lila explained before naming off the people in the photographs she had laid out in front of Caroline. “This is Ollie, mom’s best friend and writes romantic thrillers—he was our roommate when we first moved to New York and is often at the house more than his own. Yolanda is her literary agent who is in charge of selling mom’s books when she’s completed them and most recently got a movie deal on mom’s best selling trilogy. I call our grandmother ‘Gran,’ and our grandfather, ‘grandpa’.”

Both girls were the subject of a slight makeover with Lila having to cut her hair shorter, and Caroline getting bangs. When that happened they really were identical twins with the campmates not knowing who was who. Caroline practiced mimicking Lila’s NY accent and taught her the words to ‘Great Balls of Fire.’

“This is ridiculous,” Caroline complained when she was unable to whistle like Lila. “Is this really necessary?”

“Every teenager in New York has had to hail a cab at some point. If Mom is on the phone then I have to be the one to catch the cab—and whistling is gonna get you one more than just waving like an idiot in the middle of the street.”

Last thing to do was exchange plane tickets. Lila to SAN and Caroline to JFK.

They hugged each other goodbye, wishing the other good luck and not to forget certain things. They mostly had everything written down so they were confident they could get everything memorized by heart before they landed at their respective destinations. Caroline felt odd having to wear a long sleeve in July, but the weather for New York was cloudy with cool temperatures so she felt safer wearing the outfit Lila had picked out. She wasn’t the only odd ball, Lila was having to get used to wearing the tank top and pink Hawaiian shirt with shorts—something she never thought she’d ever wear.

They even had to exchange phones considering Lila had the lilac iPhone 12 Pro Max and Caroline had her trusty red iPhone 7 Plus. “Hey it works fine,” she defended, “until I either crack it beyond repair or it just doesn’t turn on one day then I will keep this till the end of time. So be careful with it.”

Promising to text everyday and call at least twice a week, the girls went on their way. Caroline fidgeted in her first class seat, trying to go over her notes to pass the time since it would only be a few hours for her flight compared to Lila’s cross country trip. But when the New York skyline filled her vision, the teenager was in awe.

If she wasn’t so excited she would’ve vomited from the anxiety consuming her. With her backpack on her shoulders and duffle bag in her hands, Caroline did her best to navigate through JFK until she reached the baggage claim. There her stomach did flips at the sight of Ollie waving frantically at her.

“Lila bean! Over here!” Grinning wide, she raced over to the man and was lifted into his arms. “Finally you’re back! Ugh you have no idea how crazy it’s been without you,” he set her down, making movements with his hand, “I’ve had no one to discuss the latest season of Bachelor in Paradise with because your mom’s been so nose deep in her work the whole summer—I’ve been trying to get her thoughts on if my next book should be a sexy twist on the show where every contestant has a dirty secret and one of them is a literal serial killer but she won’t budge from that computer. It’s been the only thing to distract her from being sad with you not being there—and oh my goodness,” he suddenly gasped, making her flinch, “What did you do to your hair?”

“Oh u-uh,” she stuttered nervously, praying her accent was believable. “A girl from camp cut it. I wanted to try something new. Do you like it?”

“You look fabulous,” he complimented, letting his finger run across the ends of her hair. “It suits more than I thought—you’ve always preferred it long.”

“Well I thought with me entering high school next month I was due for a change.”

Ollie gave her a look once over with an approving nod, “I dig it. Now c’mon—let’s get your bag and head out before this place gets too chaotic for my liking. Plus your mom has been texting me every ten minutes wanting to know if you’ve landed and it’s becoming exhausting.”

Caroline had to hold back cheering in victory when she successfully whistled, catching the attention of a cab driver for the pair. The drive there she was bouncing her knee, taking in the city causing Ollie to look at her confused, “My goodness, eight weeks you’re gone and it’s like you’ve never seen the city before. I promise you it’s the same as you left it.”

The teenager couldn’t help but mentally laugh at the comment, ‘little do you know….’

Arriving in Manhattan Caroline turned giddy. Before Ollie could stop her she was out of the cab with her backpack and duffle, leaving him to get her luggage as she hauled up the stairs to the three story townhouse. The door was unlocked and so she took a deep breath before pushing it open only to gasp by the beautiful interior of the home with a spiral staircase leading to the higher levels.

Setting aside her things, Caroline began to explore the ground level in hopes to find her mother or grandparents. Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, the teen entering what appeared to be a study with various bookshelves and framed photographs on the walls. A man was standing up with his back toward her, appearing to look for something particular in his bookshelf.

Caroline’s heart skipped at the realization it was her grandfather. “Hi, grandpa,” she exhaled, causing the man to spin around. Immediately he was in delight.

“Lila! You’re back!” She met him in the middle as he came around the desk, the two embracing. “And you cut your hair, my gosh! You look so different—but great!”

Taking in his scent, the older man looked at her confused before she said, “Sorry, I just missed the smell of your peppermint aroma at camp.” He laughed lightly, rubbing her back with his hand.

“Oh honey we all missed you too.”

“What’s all the commotion?” A female voice entered the picture, Caroline grinning when her eyes met her grandmother’s. The older woman gasped before her own smile took over, “Oh Lila!”

“Gran!” She raced over to her, meeting her in a hug. “I missed you!” The two held each other for a moment, her gran voicing the same and complimenting her new look just as her grandfather did.

Then Caroline heard her. “Lila darling?”

Freezing against her gran, Caroline felt her heart race. Slowly removing herself she hesitantly went to the middle of the foyer. Just as she appeared in the photographs, Y/n was as beautiful as Caroline pictured her to be. Dressed in a cashmere sweater dress, she looked radiant as the light from the window hit her. Hazel eyes shining from unshed tears, Caroline whispered in awe, “Mom.”

“You’re back!”

Just like in a movie it all felt like slow motion as Caroline ran up the stairs while Y/n descended, meeting halfway in a tearful embrace. The hug lingered with Caroline never wanting to let go, a faint sob escaping from the back of her throat and the tears falling down her cheeks—no doubt ruining the mascara she wore. But the teen didn't care. Not when she was in the arms of her mother at last.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she whimpered when they pulled away, Y/n moving to brush a finger off her cheeks.

“And I can’t believe it’s you,” the writer chuckled, letting her eyes run over her daughter she believed to be the one she raised. “Look at you, your hair is so short!”

“A girl cut it at camp for me—do you like it?”

“I love it!” Y/n assured with a smile, “You look amazing—I’m surprised that’s all. And..” Y/n tilted her head a bit, “are you wearing mascara?”

“Oh yeah,” Caroline sniffed, moving to swipe under her eyes. She forgot already that Lila wasn’t into makeup like her. “A friend I made at camp wanted to see how my eyelashes looked with it since they’re so long. I forgot I had it on.”

“Oh no worries, honey. I don’t mind you wearing it if that’s what you’d like.”

“N-no it’s okay. I don’t really think it’s my thing, m-mom,” Caroline felt another wave of emotion at saying the word ‘mom,’ making Y/n frown with concern.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing,” Caroline’s voice cracked. “I’m just so happy. I missed you so much.” Y/n awed, pulling her daughter into another hug.

“Oh honey I missed you too. It almost feels like it’s been forever.”

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut as she nuzzled against Y/n’s shoulder, “you have no idea.”

Two weeks went by of the twins living their dream. Caroline explored New York City by accompanying Y/n to her meetings with Yolanda and watching Bachelor in Paradise to not have Ollie suspicious of her. Slight worry came with how her grandfather seemed to let his eyes linger on her whenever she said something unlike what Lila would say. Three thousand miles away Lila was having difficulty being so social with their father’s friend group—her introverted self needed to get away in order to recharge at times which had Phoenix and Hangman start to question her.

“Did the social butterfly in you burn out at camp, little chicken?” Jake teased one day, “I’ve never seen you this quiet in a single week.”

Lila put on her best face, hoping he wouldn’t see right through it, “You would not believe how exhausting it was dealing with so many people on a daily basis. There were times where I dreaded going to activities and preferred staying in my cabin. They were rambunctious I tell you.” Her choice of words had Natasha eye her, bidding a look to her husband, moving closer to whisper, “Did she just use the word rambunctious?”

It seemed like everyone but their parents were beginning to catch on. The first to figure out were Nat and Jake when Bradley confessed to his daughter, who he believed was Caroline, that he was planning on proposing to his current girlfriend Marilyn Brooks. Caroline had warned Lila that their father was seeing Marilyn, but believed it wouldn’t last till the end of summer. Upset and panicked on what to do, the teenager bursted outside of the Hard Deck and began ranting to herself, accent slipping out and unaware the couple were there the whole time.

“You got something to share with the class, Care Bear?” Nat approached, head tilted down at the teenager who’d gone pale. “Because you seem to be in distress.”

“Phee, Jake,” Lila placed a hand on her chest to calm her breathing, “You both gave me a fright.”

“We gave you a fright?” Jake repeated in confusion. Never had Caroline used expressions like that before, making them more confused.

“Y-you scared me. I-I didn’t know you two were out here.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Caroline?” Natasha crossed her arms. “Because ever since you came home….you’ve been acting odd. Your appetite’s changed, you’re not as social, Charlie doesn’t want to come near you anymore” she listed off her fingers, Charlie referring to Nat and Jake’s dog who adores Caroline. “And you use these big words now.”

“And just now it sounded like you were straight from New York or something,” Jake added, “And not in the way when you impersonate it on Head’s Up, it was like it was natural for you.”

“Jake, Nat….” Lila thought rapidly to deflect. “I changed a lot over summer—my friend’s from there and helped me perfect it.”

“Alright,” Jake shrugged, “Man if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were—.” Nat slapped his arm, eyes wide with a knowing look causing him to shut up. Jake gave a tight smile to the teen, “Ignore me, I’m just being stupid.”

“Almost as if I were who?”

Natasha shook her head, “No one, Care Bear. Forget we said anything.” As the two went to go back inside, they were stunned by what the girl said next.

“Almost as if I were….Lila?”

Chills appeared on their arms, the couple slowly turning to face her again with eyes full of shock. Both were thinking the same thing: did Rooster finally tell her?

“Y-you know about Lila?” Nat whispered.

The confession rolled off her tongue, “I am Lila.”

Jake dropped his bottle of beer, the glass shattering against the wood while Nat’s hand flew to her mouth. Just as they were about to spit off the millions of questions in their head, Rooster appeared looking relieved to find the teen. “There you are, Care. Why’d you run off like that—I needed to talk to you.” Noticing the way his friends were looking as though they wanted to cry, Rooster then said, “Guys….why are you staring at her like that?”

Seeing Lila shake her head, begging them not to say anything, the two apologized and excused themselves. Later that night Lila asked to stay at their house after getting into an argument with her father about him getting engaged, where she then explained everything after a tearful reunion considering the couple hadn’t seen her since she was a baby.

“Caroline is in New York with our mom,” the confession had the two nearly faint. “We switched places at camp, which I cannot believe fate actually brought us together that way—and we’re hoping to get our parents back together because I know my mom still loves him despite all these years they’ve been separated. But now he’s engaged to that wretched woman who I know is gonna ruin his life. I-I have to call her and get them here now!”

Phoenix gently calmed the girl down, “Lila, it’s almost midnight over there. Call her tomorrow and then we’ll figure something out together.”

The call to Caroline is what got her found out by their grandfather. She was sitting at a picnic table just down the road after jumping from her seat at the dinner table. Unbeknownst to Caroline, her grandfather had followed her.

“I thought you said they would be broken up by the time I got back!” Lila shouted on the other end of the phone.

“Well that was the hope,” Caroline voiced back, “Usually he’s with them for a few months to a year—but Marilyn’s just…ugh I can’t even explain so it surprises me she’s lasted this long.”

“Well now she’s looking to become our stepmom! You have to get mom here to San Diego so we can stop them!”

“No way I’ve barely had time with her, Lila,” Caroline argued. For five minutes the twins go back and forth before ultimately hanging up. When Caroline rose from the bench she bumped into the gentleman behind her, “Oh I’m sorry, sir.” The man turned around, the familiar face staring back causing her stomach to drop. “Oh boy.”

“Oh boy,” he repeated, tsking. “How about we take a walk while the fresh air is nice?” Coming clean, Caroline told her grandfather everything from the day she arrived at camp to the day she left as Lila. Thankfully he wasn’t angry, in fact the man was overjoyed at the news.

Now it was time to come clean to the rest of the family.

The next morning Caroline was pacing in front of Y/n’s office before knocking on the door and waited for her to respond. “Come in.” Looking over the edge of her computer, the woman smiled at her daughter. “Hey darlin’, I’m almost done with this paragraph. What do you say about us going to that gyro place you like for lunch?”

“Mom,” Caroline fidgeted with her fingers. “I need to talk to you.” When Y/n continued to type, she said with an edge in her voice, “Right now. Please.”

Taken aback by the tone, Y/n saved the document and closed out before standing from her chair. “What is it, Lila?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” seeing her confusion, Caroline’s eyes glistened. “Lila.”

“Yessss? That’s the name I gave you the day you were born.”

“N-no!” Caroline finally snapped. “That’s not the one you gave me, mom.” That had Y/n puzzled, looking at her daughter with wide eyes. Lip quivering, the teen finally came clean, unable to hold it any longer. “I’m not Lila.”

At first Y/n didn’t seem to react, until a soft gasp left her as the look of absolute shock took over her expression. Her eyes filled with water, hands beginning to shake, “You’re…You’re Caroline?”

“Yes,” she nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You and dad sent Lila and I to the same camp. We met there and….well I just really wanted to meet you a-and Lila really wanted to meet dad and please don’t be angry with us, I—.” The teenager was cut off by the sob Y/n let out as she took her in her arms.

“Oh my sweet girl,” Y/n cried, letting 13 years of pent up regret, sadness, and shame finally release. “Oh Caroline.” The teen’s arms wrapped around her waist, nuzzling her face into her chest as her own tears spilled. Finally it felt like a weight had been lifted off both their shoulders. Mother and daughter reunited. “I can’t believe It’s actually you—my sweet girl.”

A tearful reunion even had Ollie emotional, the author being consoled by Y/n’s father in the doorway along with her mother. “I-I’ve never been so happy in my life. O-oh my gosh this is the best day ever!” As he cried, Y/n’s father gave her a heartfelt look before gently closing the door to allow them some privacy.

“No offense, mom—well actually slight offense,” Caroline said after explaining the situation of why the twins switched places—keeping out the fact they were planning to reunite the adults in hopes of the two getting back together. “But this whole thing was not it. I mean, c’mon, were you ever gonna tell us?”

Y/n looked deeply ashamed, wiping away at her face constantly, “I know it was wrong of us. Believe me I’ve regretted it every second since the day I left. Keeping you two apart was the worst thing we did and I hope you girls can forgive us. I let my personal issues with your father get in the way—a-and I should've never left you behind. You have every right to be angry,” Y/n paused to grab a tissue. “I honestly hoped to tell you two one day—possibly when you two were sixteen, but then I just didn’t know how to approach that after keeping it hidden so long.”

Caroline took it all in, asking the next question. “So what now?”

Y/n sighed, “Well legally you’re supposed to be with your father, and Lila with me. So we’ve gotta get you back to him. Then we go from there,” she placed her hands on Caroline’s shoulder before pressing a soft kiss to her head, “But I promise you no more secrets. And I’m not letting you go again, honey. We’ll get everything under control.”

Packing for California had Y/n a damn mess. She didn’t know what to wear and went through several options before settling on a fashionable white dress that would do well with the California heat. The sight of her was quite entertaining for Ollie, but was doing his best to offer moral support because she was really starting to lose it.

“What the hell am I supposed to say when I see him?” Y/n waved her free hand. She had sunglasses on her face and curlers in her hair with a glass of wine in one hand as she threw random stuff into a suitcase. “It’s been nearly thirteen years, Ollie. And our last day married was anything but a good parting! I-I mean I know nothing about him except from what Caroline has told me.” A warm feeling flared in her chest. “She says he’s still got that damn 80s stache—gosh what that did to me when I was with him. Only he could make a girl weak in the knees sporting something most men look horrid in.”

“Sounds like he could still make you weak in the knees, babe,” the comment resulted in a glare. “Look, you’re thinking too much alright? Just take a breather and think about the girls. This is for them at the end of the day.”

“I know,” Y/n rubbed her face, downing the last bit of wine in her glass. “Ollie, darling, I can’t go about this on my own. Will you—.”

“Accompany you to sunny California to keep you sane as you embark on this journey of reuniting with your former sexy pilot lover?” At her nod he winks and pulls out his phone showcasing his boarding pass. “Already got it booked, babe. Maybe I’ll find my own Romeo on this trip. Lord knows I have a thing for surfers and skaters—but there's a difference between New York skaters and California ones. I should know…I’ve dated both.”

When asked if she had talked with her father, Caroline subtly lied, “Oh yeah I just got off with him. Says they have our rooms reserved at the Hilton Resort in Palm Springs. He’s excited to see you.”

“He is?” Y/n raises a brow, not finding it believable, and trying to contain the flutter in her stomach. “Well, we should be on the way then. Sweetie, could you check us into our flights while I help Ollie pack the Uber?”

The man trailed after Caroline with a cheeky look, whispering under his breath so only she could hear, “liar, liar, pants on fire.” Caroline spun around to see her mom was turned the other way, bringing a finger to her lips with a wink, “shuuuush!”

When Lila brought the idea up for her and Rooster to go to Palm Springs for the weekend, the plan did not include bringing Marilyn and her parents. Thankfully Phoenix, Hangman, and Charlie tagged along too. The couple was in on the plan and only ones to know besides Lila that Y/n was just a few short hours away from arriving. They timed it so when she and Caroline landed at the airport, they’d already be checked in and waiting at the resort.

“Be warned,” the text from Caroline appeared on the phone. “Mom is DRUNK. She had two cocktails on the plane and had us stop at a liquor store to get some mini airplane bottles.”

“Oh no,” Lila moaned, causing Nat and Jake to look at her in question while Rooster was busy meeting Marilyn’s parents for the first time. She showed them the text, both reacting the same, “This is gonna be interesting.”

Charlie started to whimper, picking up a familiar scent and pulling Lila across the lobby with the couple chasing after them. Meanwhile in the elevator, Y/n remembered she left her purse on the counter. “Crap, I forgot my bag,” she giggled, stopping the closing door and moving as fast as her heels and disoriented state could take her. While she was busy gathering her lost item, Lila came around the corner with Charlie, the dog barking at the sight of Caroline in the elevator.

“Charlie!” She squealed, the animal bolting from Lila’s grasp and into the elevator before it could close. The twins connected eyes just as the door shut, Lila mentally cursing though she couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement in her.

“Oh shit,” Jake mumbled with wide eyes, pulling Natasha to the side right when Y/n approached.

“Mom!”

“Oh, you didn’t have to wait for me, sweet girl, I can find the room by myself,” Lila literally had to step away from her Y/n, who had yet to realize it was Lila giving the twins decided on wearing similar outfits. She reeked of alcohol. Caroline wasn’t kidding when she warned her their mother was drunk off her ass. Besides the smell and her slight slurring words, Y/n was having trouble keeping her eyes open, “You go on up, okay? I’m gonna check out the bar real quick—have a glass of water while I’m at it.” As Y/n went to walk away she turned around with a tilt of her head, “I like that jacket by the way—were you wearing that on the plane?”

“Mom, watch out!” Lila shouted as Nat gasped with her when Y/n nearly collided with the bellboy.

“Oh goodness,” was all the author had to say, giving an embarrassed glance to her daughter before turning the corner away from their sights. Jake couldn't help but laugh, Nat holding back her own as she and Lila stared at each other in disbelief.

“The one time she should be sober and she’s completely wasted!” Lila exclaimed with a laugh at the end. “I’ve only ever seen her have one glass of wine at dinner—now she’s looking to run the bar dry.”

Phoenix shook her head with a smile, “Yeah well let her have her fun before all hell breaks loose.” Guiding Lila to the elevator, they all head to the floor where their rooms were.

Meanwhile Rooster and Marilyn had the same idea.

Attached to his arm, the woman was on a rant about what she thought was best for the lavish wedding she desired. Rooster just smiled and nodded, allowing the blonde to have creative control since he had no idea what to say. His first wedding was at a courthouse, nothing extravagant.

“Alone at last,” She hummed in relief, lips going to his neck as she giggled while his arms went around her waist. Bradley mirrored her expression, only it soon went to one of absolute shock when his gaze landed on the woman he never thought he’d see again.

Y/n was in front of him, looking like an angel in white as she stopped short in front of the elevator when they locked eyes. A hesitant smile appeared on her lips, hand coming up to wave as Bradley started to lean away from Marilyn as the doors shut, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

But no, his ex-wife was really there.

“Bradley?” Y/n heard the blonde’s voice just as the doors closed, the last thing she saw could best be described was her ex-husband looking at her like she was an actual ghost. Like he didn’t expect her to be there at all.

That put the pieces together.

“Caroline Bradshaw!” Y/n strutted down the hallway, halting when the doors of both rooms opened and the girls appeared before her. With the two sporting similar looks and the same haircut it was difficult to tell who was who. A headache was forming in Y/n’s head from the alcohol, the woman moaning, “Please don’t do this—I-I’m already seeing double.” The teen on her left smiled.

“It’s me, Mom. Lila.”

“Oh darlin’!” the author exclaimed, moving to hug her daughter and place a kiss on her head. “You look wonderful. My goodness this is the happiest day of my life,” she opened her arm to bring Caroline into the hug. “Both of my girls!” Then Y/n remembered what brought her to the floor, “Not to ruin the happy moment, but I’d really appreciate it if you explained why you blindsided me.”

All of a sudden Nat and Jake appeared from the suite Lila was in. “Hi,” Nat glanced down the hall before smiling at the author. “Sorry to break this up, but might I suggest we move this discussion inside.” Coming over to the doorway of Caroline’s room, the two extended an arm to the trio. The girls entered first, and as Y/n followed behind Nat added, “Hi, you probably don’t remember us--.”

“Natasha! Jake!” Both were given a friendly kiss to the cheek, Y/n pleased to see them again after so many years. They looked at each other with a smirk when she entered the suite, “I knew I always liked her.”

Once inside Y/n threw her bag onto the armchair, “Spill it!” She pointed to her daughters sitting on the ottoman, beginning to pace in front of the couch. “Though I’m not sure which one of you told me your father knew I was arriving today, I can assure you that the man I just saw in the lobby had no clue his ex-wife would be in the same state—let alone the same hotel.”

The twins looked at each other, Lila frowning, “You saw dad?”

“Yes I did,” the woman signed, dropping onto the couch. “And gosh if I didn’t know any better he lost his spray tan because of how pale he went at the sight of me. Like I was Casper the not-so-friendly ghost.” Wincing, the author requested a cold compress for her head, Lila jumping up to get one for her. “I’ve wondered for so many years what it would be like to see your father again, but him wrapped around another woman’s arms while I stood there waving like an idiot was not what I had in mind.”

At that moment Ollie struts in with sunglasses on his face and shirt opened to reveal his chest, whistling before stopping short at the sight of his ashen best friend. “You look horrendous.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” she muttered sarcastically.”

“Why the lone face, babe?” He bids a glance to the couple entering the picture, mentally thinking how hot they looked together after Y/n introduces them all.

“I’m currently investigating why my daughters felt the need to leave out the fact their father had no idea I was coming today.”

“Oh,” his eyes went wide, slowly starting to back away along with Nat and Jake, both wearing the same expression as him. “Well in that case imma just head to the pool.”

“We’ll join you—that sounds like a great idea,” Nat says in a rush, the three turning to run but were stopped short by Y/n’s, “Hold on a second!” They slowly turn back around, biting their lips.

“Are you all keeping something from me?” Y/n looks between the three before her attention is directed to Lila’s soft voice.

“Mom, dad’s engaged…...” The news has Y/n slowly fall back to the couch, her shoulders dropping while her heart clenches. She doesn’t know why she’s so disappointed.

Actually she does know why. It’s the reason she can’t bring herself to love another person no matter how much she opens up to them.

“And she’s horrible, mom. The wicked witch of the west!”

“I met her before camp and she was so rude to me when he wasn’t paying attention,” Caroline voiced. “I thought he’d have ended things already but for some God awful reason he’s still with her.”

“We can’t let him go through with it, mom,” Lila adds with determination, “He’ll regret it for the rest of his life. And well…the only way he won’t is if he sees you again.”

Y/n can’t help but make a sound of disbelief. “Wait a moment,” she nervously laughs, sitting up straighter, “are you trying to set me up with your father?”

“Yes,” they echo together.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Caroline says followed by Lila shouting, “You two are perfect for each other!”

“Girls—stop right there!” Y/n exclaims when the three adults try to sneak out. “Did you all know about this?”

“Whaaaaat?” Ollie scoffs, trying to play it off but Y/n knows him better than that. Jake and Nat were also denying it but the author’s knowing look made all three come clean.

“Okay I had some knowledge.”

“We sorta had an idea—call it a hunch.”

“It was just so sweet and sounded like a good idea—.”

Y/n falls backward onto the cushions with a dramatic sigh, “Lord have mercy.” She found herself in the hotel bar twenty minutes later with an ice water and some concoction she requested for her hangover. To her side she noticed a pretty blonde lady take a seat and order a gin martini. “Here’s to….” She inspected the drink with a frown before saluting the blonde, “here’s to you. Hopefully your life is not as complicated as mine.”

The lady gave a tight smile, “Thank you.”

God the drink smelled horrible, tasting exactly like something no one would drink unless it was the only source of hydration. Groaning, Y/n downed the contents in three gulps just wanting to get it over with, covering her mouth with a hand when it felt like it would come back up. “Excuse me,” she mumbled when an unpleasant sound escaped, resulting in the blonde giving a look of distaste. “I would not wish this upon my worst enemy.”

“Here’s you bill, Ms. L/n,” the bartender placed the receipt on the table for her signature.

“Thank you,” she quickly scribbled her name and passed it back along with a few bills for a tip, the blonde getting a good glance at it causing her eyes to go wide.

“You’re Y/n L/n?”

Taken aback, the author nodded shyly. “Yes.” She received a squeal from the woman.

“Oh my gosh! I was just reading your latest novel on the drive here!” She moved to the seat right next to Y/n. “And my agent told me about auditions coming up for the adaptation of your ‘Bridesmaids Chronicles’ series. Ah it’s fate!” Extending a hand, the blonde introduces herself, “I’m Marilyn Brooks.”

Over by the poolside Rooster approaches another woman resembling his ex-wife, muttering an apology when he sees it’s not her and bumps into almost every person he passes, “Sorry.”

“There you are, Bradley!” Marilyn’s father comes up to him while her mother takes his arm.

“Bradley, this resort is just beautiful. Don’t you think it’s perfect for the wedding?”

“I do,” he adjusts his collar, voice turning soft when his eyes cut across the pool to the woman descending the stairs. A smile appeared on his face, “Absolutely.”

It was her.

Anything Marilyn’s mother said went in one ear and out the other, the navy pilot excusing himself with an apology as he began to make his way around the pool. “Excuse me—sorry,” he dodged a man carrying towels before doing the same to another guest. “S-sorry,” his eyes stayed on Y/n, who was walking and taking in the scenery.

Not paying attention, Rooster stumbled over a cooler, which happened to be Jake’s. The two were seated on the beach chairs with Lila and Charlie, Ollie just off to the side looking flabbergasted as he took in his best friend’s ex. Nat looked at him in concern behind her sunglasses, “Bradshaw, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he turns to her briefly, causing him to collide with a pool boy,

“Sir!”

“Dad, watch out!” Lila’s shout had Y/n turn, gasping when she witnessed her ex-husband fall straight into the pool. Nat, Lila, and Ollie all gasped with her while Jake just took his phone out to video the whole thing. Y/n had to turn away when Rooster began swimming to the side she was on, ignoring all the looks he was receiving by his little spectacle.

The poor pilot was completely drenched head to toe. Y/n fidgeted as he approached, both smiling at each other nervously.

“Hey, Y/n/n.”

“Hello, Roo.”

Wiping at the water dripping from his eyebrow, Rooster moved closer causing a warm feeling to erupt in Y/n’s chest. Gosh he had changed—of course it had been 13 years, but Lord did he have to get even more attractive? And that damn mustache had her weak in the knees but thankfully she remained composed. “It’s good to see you.”

Getting straight to it, Bradley gave her a look once over, “It’s good to see you too….but is there something I’m missing here? You don’t seem too shocked to see me as I am to see you.” Squeezing the water from his shirt, “I mean it’s been thirteen years and—.”

“Dad,” a soft voice interrupts him, Rooster stunned when he sees who believes is Caroline standing beside Y/n. “I can explain why she’s here.”

“Caroline,” he says with caution, briefly glancing at the woman to see her reaction, “you know who this is?”

“I do.” She allows her natural accent to flow, “And actually, dad, I’m not Caroline….”

Coming on Y/n’s other side, Caroline grins at her father. “Hey, pops.”

The best word to describe Bradley’s face was astonishment and pure happiness. “Both of them?” He looks at the girl he came to the resort with, eyes shining a bit with the emotion filling him, “Lila?” Then he looks at her twin, “Caroline?”

“I’m not sure if it’s fate or you both just picked the most random summer camp to send your daughters too….but we met there and it wasn’t too hard to piece it together. You know besides looking identical there was the same birthday detail and the fact we were raised by one parent.”

“They switched places on us, Bradley,” Y/n put her arm around Caroline, beaming down at her.

Rooster looked at her stunned, but smiling nonetheless. “W-what? You mean I had Lila this whole time?”

“Well I wanted to know what you were like, and Caroline wanted to know mom—are you angry?”

He answered her with a big hug, “Oh darlin’ of course not,” he kissed the side of her head, not wanting to let her go. “I’m so happy—I can’t believe it’s you!” Pulling away he ran a hand over her cheek, in complete awe of her. “It’s been so long—you were so small the last time I saw you.”

“Well I’m all grown up now….and quite without a father,” she pulls away from him to stand next to Caroline.

“And I’m about to head into high school, where I’ll be one of the few to not relate to other girls arguing with their mother on the daily,” Y/n shakes her head with a chuckle at Caroline’s words.

“Care, you’ve been in New York this whole time?” At her nod he opens his arms, “C’mere kiddo.” After their hug Y/n politely requests a moment with Bradley, the teenagers giving sly looks as they walk away.

“No problem…take your time.”

The two take a seat on one of the beach chairs, Y/n asking for a first aid kit when she notices a cut to his forehead. As she tends to him, Rooster goes, “Jesus, both of them together? Wow, I can’t believe it—this is unreal,” he then raises a brow, “How long have you known?”

“Since yesterday morning,” she explained softly, gently wiping away the blood before dabbing it with rubbing alcohol. She apologizes when he winces. “My father figured it out the other night. Honestly I’m ashamed I didn’t suspect anything—I just thought Lila had come out of her shell after camp when she was thrilled to come to my meetings where there’d be new people. And before you ask, Caroline told me you knew I was coming. Obviously, we were both deceived.”

“Talk about karma,” Rooster chuckles, not shy of calling them out on what they did wrong. “We kinda deserve it.”

“I do,” she corrects with a tight smile. “It was my idea after all.”

“Yeah,” he leaned closer, connecting their eyes, “but I didn’t stop it from happening, Y/n/n.” Seeing her hand falter at the name, Rooster tilts his head, “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” she nervously laughs, turning away to grab a bandaid. “Uh—I-I haven’t heard that name in awhile.”

“Do you not like it anymore?”

“No, no! I do like it. My dad still calls me it from time to time,” she says, putting the bandaid on his forehead. “I guess it just feels different.”

“I get it,” he nods, offering a small smile. When she wasn’t looking he unconsciously let his eyes take her in for the first time. “You look good, Y/n/n.” That was a lie, she looked incredible. Like an actual angel before him with her white dress and soft curls.

Before she could respond Marilyn appeared, causing the two to jump back when they realized how close they were. Rooster went a little red while Y/n scratched the back of her neck.

“Finally there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” The blonde said in relief, smile dropping slightly when she sees her fiancé with the renowned author, “Oh good you two met. Brad, this is the author of the series I was telling you about—the one I’m auditioning for….umm am I missing something?”

Glancing between the two, Y/n felt her heart sink at the realization the lady she met in the bar was the same woman she saw Bradley with in the elevator. His fiancé….who was in for the shock of her life when it was revealed not only were they married, but his daughter was a twin.

“Hey, Mare, great to see you again. I’m the Caroline you met at the beginning of summer. This is my twin, Lila. I was pretending to be her while she was pretending to be me,” she points to her sister before extending a hand to Y/n, voice full of pride. “And this is our mother, Y/n L/n.”

Everyone should have expected disaster to happen at some point in the weekend. The ex-wife, who Bradley may have had feelings for still, and the fiancé—who was keeping a secret of her own.

One that the girls discovered when they snatched her phone.

That night after the stunning reunion, the girls schemed their way into recreating the night their parents met. With the help of Jake, Nat, and Ollie, the group got Sonic milkshakes, Route 44s, and some food for the pair who they ordered to follow them to where they parked Rooster’s Bronco overlooking the beach.

“Clever girls,” Y/n chuckled, popping a tater tot in her mouth. “You see what they’re doing, right?”

“I do,” he laughed with her, “not a bad job if I must say. Though, we’re missing all the discarded baseball gear and beer cans.”

For about an hour the two talked in between bites of food. When the topic of their breakup came up, both tried to hide their regret as to not let the other see how it still affected them.

“It was your hairdryer,” Bradley said when Y/n asked if she had hurt him when she threw the object at him, unsure of what it was since the moment was a blur to her now. “Clipped me in the arm.”

Y/n looked away in embarrassment, though she did remind him of why she threw it, which then had the pilot frown in shame.

“But look at you now. New York Times Bestselling author, just like you wanted. It’s amazing, Y/n. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she gave a small smile. “It’s still surreal. And as much as I hate to admit it, it feels like it wouldn’t have happened had I stayed—even though I regret it.”

“You do?” he turned in his seat, tone unreadable though his eyes showed a different story. She didn’t look at him when she replied.

“I always had some regret. But because my dream came true I thought it was meant to happen. Leaving was the only way I could get it done. Then after discovering it was Caroline with me it all hit me full blast….I hurt her more than anything—and Lila. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. Now it feels like everything that happened after that day wasn’t worth it because I lost a piece of myself.” Y/n sighs, looking up at the stars, “I was just so angry with you and by what that officer said. It felt like no one believed in me and in turn why should I believe in myself. So I did the only thing I could think of….and I packed.”

Turning to face Rooster, a solemn gaze took over, “And you…didn’t come after me.”

Rooster didn’t know what to say other than, “I thought you didn’t want me too.” He was astonished by her confession, thinking how everything could’ve been different had he listened to his brain screaming at him.

“Oh well,” she sipped her drink, “It doesn’t matter now. The past is the past. Let’s just put on a happy face for the girls and I’ll be out of your hair again.”

The rest of the night Rooster couldn’t think straight. While Y/n made the arrangements for what they should do about the twins, he just nodded and agreed. All he could think about was how he let her go and regretted it everyday since. Even when they arrived back at the hotel to their separate rooms he went to bed with the image of Y/n as the last thing he saw before sleep overtook him.

Y/n was checking out of the hotel when Rooster approached the counter. “So I’ll book Caroline’s flights for December and April.”

“And I’ll do the same for Lila in the summer,” she nodded, placing her bill from the concierge in her bag. When the girls arrived moments later, both parents were speechless by their matching outfits. “Girls, what is this?”

“Well, mom, we sorta came to an agreement. And we don’t feel like parting ways just yet.”

“Excuse me?” Y/n tilted her head at the teen who spoke. She thought it was Lila, but then again the woman wasn’t sure. They were hiding their necklaces to not give away who was who. “Lila, we don’t have time for this. Our plane leaves in four hours and I have a meeting with my publishers tomorrow.”

“Cancel them,” the other told her, making Y/n’s mouth part while Rooster’s eyes went wide.

“Caroline.”

“Yes,” they both answered.

Now the adults were becoming frustrated. “Girls, this is not funny. You’re gonna make your mother miss her flight—now stop this charade and tell us who is who.”

“Mannnn that’s pretty sad, huh,” the twin on the left voiced, “Can’t even tell your own daughters apart.” She received stern looks from her parents.

Going up to them Rooster leans down, putting his hands on his hips as he tries to tell them apart. Pointing a finger at the twin on the right, he smirks, “this is Caroline. I know that smirk anywhere.”

“Are you sure, dad?” the other twin says, plastering an identical smug expression. “You wouldn’t want to send the wrong twin to New York now?”

“Here’s what we want,” the one directly in front of Rooster states, “We want to go to Penny’s end of summer bash at the Hard Deck tomorrow night—you know, the one that happens every year. We go as a family, and once we do then we will say who’s Lila and who’s Caroline.”

Both parents look at each other flabbergasted. Then Y/n threatens, “Or I take one of you with me back to New York, regardless of who you are and that’s the end of it. Sounds good?” Nothing came of it, however, when Y/n pouted as she sat in the passenger seat of the rental car Ollie was driving until they made it to San Diego. Phoning Yolanda, her meeting was rescheduled and her flight was booked for Monday morning. They got lodging at an airbnb and settled for the night with both girls staying with Y/n on the promise they will stay with Bradley after the party.

Marilyn was not happy with the news of them staying an extra day. Having to deal with one daughter was one thing, but both twins had her head spinning. There was already high tensions with the teenagers, now throwing the ex-wife into the mix made things difficult for Marilyn when she was battling for Bradley’s attention. Not to mention all of Rooster’s friends didn’t like her.

Nerves raked the author when they arrived at the Hard Deck. It was her first time at the establishment and the only people she knew coming in were Nat and Jake. Ollie tagged along thankfully but then he was distracted by the adorableness that was Lt. Robert Floyd. Both girls dragged Y/n to all of Rooster’s friends, introducing the author with pride that made her chest warm.

“Oh hey guys,” Caroline giggled when the squad’s eyes bulged out at the sight of the three. “It’s me Caroline—the actual Caroline. That over there,” she points to her twin wearing a similar outfit only it was a Rolling Stones t-shirt and not The Beatles, “is my twin Lila, who y’all have been hanging out with the last two weeks. And this is our mom, Y/n L/n. Can’t believe dad fumbled such a bag.”

“Caroline,” Y/n scolded with a shake of the head, smiling when each of the guys introduced themself. “It’s nice to meet you all, the girls have told me all about you.”

“Wish we could say the same, ma’am,” Fanboy laughs, “We only know you from when Rooster gets drunk off his ass. Loose lips you know.” Y/n felt flustered by the comment, realizing Rooster still thought of her even after everything that happened.

Penny treated the author with a warm welcome, as did Maverick who both were surprised to see each other. “Oh my gosh, you’re Pete! You guys…you two rekindled?”

“We did,” he blushes, “took some time but it worked out. I’ve heard all about you, Y/n,” he gives an awkward shake of the shoulders, “He…told me everything about a year ago when it was the girls’ birthday.”

Everything seemed to be going well until the twins overheard Marilyn speaking ill of their mother. “She’s being a snake and you know it, Bradley! Ever since she got here there’s been an ulterior motive—and I bet you those kids are in on it,” she pointed a finger with a hiss.

“You’re being ridiculous, Marilyn,” Rooster’s tone takes another edge. “She hasn’t even spoken to me the entire night except to greet us when we arrived.”

“She doesn’t have to talk! It’s all in the looks and smiles! She’s a fucking romance author—of course she knows what to do to get someone’s attention. That’s how sad and desperate she is.”

By now Caroline had enough, bringing everyone’s attention to the scene when she yells, “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” In her peripheral vision she sees Y/n, Nat, and Penny stand from their seats, moving closer to where they were.

Rooster gives a warning look, “honey, this doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” She ignores his disapproving eyes. “How dare she talk about mom like that?! You’re gonna let her speak about her that way—about the woman who gave birth to us?”

Lila steps up, glaring at the blonde, “Instead of worrying about mom, she should be worrying about who’s blowing up her phone wanting to know when to meet at the motel tonight.” They watch as all the color drains from Marilyn’s face. Rooster turns to his fiancé, confused and demanding an answer.

“What is she talking about?”

“I-I—she’s. Bradley, there’s nothing—.”

Caroline cuts her off, “Who’s Colonel Mustard?” Again Marilyn goes pale, though there’s anger in her eyes. “What a code name, Mare. I guess I better refer to his actual name, you know. Does the name Admiral Patrick Cross ring a bell?” She mocks, “oh yeah, he’s dad’s married boss at Top Gun and she’s been sending naked pictures to him all weekend.”

Gasps sounded all around, Ollie, Nat and Penny slapping a hand to their mouth where the squad and Mav all went, “oh shit!” Y/n looked at her daughters stunned before glancing at Bradley to see his reaction. The man was in disbelief, staring at Marilyn with unreadable eyes.

The blonde saw red. “You little bitch!” Before she could stop herself her hand came up and slapped the teen across the face, leaving a nice print in its wake along with a scratch from when her fake nail dragged against the skin.

Now Y/n saw red. Literally Kill Bill alarms blaring.

Marilyn screamed when her jaw snapped to the side full force from the impact of Y/n’s fist. The author had pulled her by the hair to turn her around, nearly ripping out her extensions. Blood coated Marilyn’s mouth, and a tooth even fell out by how hard Y/n had punched her. Before another blow could be landed the woman was pulled back, fighting against the hold from Ollie and Nat, “Touch my daughter again and see what fucking happens bitch—I’ll cut your fucking eye out!” While she was being dragged to the back patio to prevent from committing a crime, Marilyn ran out the front door with Rooster chasing after her.

Tears in their eyes the twins raced to their mom. When they got outside they saw her shaking the first that was no doubt throbbing. Ollie was trying to talk her down, all while complimenting how badass she was. “Oh honey,” she saw Caroline, moving to hold her. Telling Penny to bring out two ice packs, the woman brushed her uninjured hand against the teen’s cheek. It flared her anger more, wishing she could go beat the shit out of that cunt. “My sweet girl, are you okay?

“I’m fine, mom,” Caroline whimpered, sniffing when Y/n wiped the tear that fell. Her face stung and there would likely be a mark but she didn’t care. All she could feel was warmth and happiness by how her mom stood up for her. Looking at her first, the teen frowned at the discoloration. “Are you okay?”

Penny came out with the ice packs, handing one to Y/n and Caroline. “I’m fine—at least right now because my adrenaline is pumping. Give me a few more minutes and I could be in debilitating pain but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Glancing over the deck, Y/n’s face fell slightly. “Where’s your father?”

“He went after the witch,” Lila said with distaste. Caroline mirrored her expression, both twins disappointed with Rooster. The reaction had Y/n take a deep breath, controlling the anger rising which nearly snapped when the man slid open the doors of the patio and walked toward them.

“Not now, Bradley.”

“Y/n, listen to me—.”

“You went after her, dad,” Caroline sniffed, glaring up at him. “What the hell?”

“Not in the way you think, honey,” he leaned down to cup her face, careful of the mark. It was taking everything in him to remain composed. Just moments before when he was ending things with his now ex-fiancé, Rooster had to remember she was a woman and not to lose it even though she had just laid her hands on his daughter. Had she been a man….well there would be an ambulance called. “I only went after her to tell her to get her crap out of the house and expect charges for assault to be on her doorstep.”

Now that had them speechless. “Really?”

“Yeah, kiddo. And I’m so sorry,” he kissed her forehead, moving to hug her and opening his arm for Lila to join. “Thank you both for what you did. I owe you two for saving me.” He feels them laugh against his chest, the pilot lifting his gaze to settle on Y/n. She has a smile on her face, blushing when they look eyes. At her wince he notices her hand was now black and blue. “You should get that looked at.”

“Oh It’s fine—,” she tried to deflect but he wouldn’t have it.

“That looks broken, Y/n,” he gently moves the girls to the side so he can inspect it. The woman makes a pained sound when his fingers try to turn it. “Yeah, we’re going to urgent care right now.”

“Bradley—.”

“No excuses. Girls, let’s go.” He almost wanted to laugh at the pout on Y/n’s face, hauling her to the Bronco before speeding off to the nearest urgent care. The entire way she tried saying she was fine, but the pained expression every time she moved her hand in the slightest gave away that she was in fact not fine. The girls couldn't help but giggle at the way the adults were bickering. Like they were still married.

With a diagnosed fracture and cast on her wrist, Y/n felt butterflies in her stomach when they returned to the beach house for the girls to get their things. They would spend the final night at Rooster’s before Y/n and Ollie would pick Lila up in the morning in time for their flight. While the girls were upstairs, Y/n and Bradley sat on the deck, neither not knowing what to say.

“What time do you take off?”

“A quarter till nine,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the waves in front of her. She felt him come to her side, so close she smelled his cologne that if she closed her eyes, it would put her back in 2006. “It’s a straight shot thankfully—no layovers.”

“That’s good,” he muttered, head spinning with a million things he wanted to say but couldn’t form the words. Part of him just wanted to confess he still loved her. That he never stopped. That they should try to kick things back off. But then he thought about how their lives went. Here he was a Top Gun instructor in San Diego, and she was a bestselling author in New York.

Rooster thought of her stories. He read every single one on the market the day they dropped, feeling the heartbreak in him every time he flipped through the pages of her second novel that he knew was loosely based on their story. He remembered crying at the end when he finished it the first time. It was the only one without a happy ending.

All the books were hidden in his closet, but at least once a year Rooster would pick up one and read the beautiful words Y/n wrote. He was so proud of her, but didn’t know how to say it.

“Roo—.”

“Y/n/n—.” Both chuckled nervously when they tried speaking at the same time.

“You go,” she insisted. Wiping a sweating hand on his pants, Rooster took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled. “For what I said to you that night. And for not standing up for you like I should have,” his face was full of regret. “I was more worried about my job than you—a-and it was wrong of me to do so. I made you feel like your talent wasn’t worthy, that you’d never make it as an author and I’m so fucking sorry for saying that. You are an amazing writer and you deserve everything that has come from it. Your books are incredible, Y/n. Every one of them.”

Y/n feels her throat tighten, voice going small, “Y-you—you’ve read them?”

“Every single one,” he confesses, making her whimper slightly by the emotion erupting in her chest. “On their release day. And I read them in one sitting.”

Y/n’s heart was soaring. Never did she think he’d read her books, let alone buy them the day they came out. His confession was making it harder for her to let him go again. “Roo…” she whispers, eyes glistening as he moves closer to her.

They stared at each other for a moment. No words came out but in their looks was everything they needed to know. The love they thought had left years ago resurfaced in just a few days.

Right as it looked like Rooster was about to lean down, the sound of a car filled their ears, causing Y/n to drop her head. “That would be Ollie.” Rooster nods, disappointment filling him as he slowly backs away to enter the house, but not before giving her one last look to see her wiping her eyes. Y/n gives the twins a kiss on the head before waving goodbye when they leave. Now that he was home, Ollie wanted to know everything he missed—jaw dropping when Y/n admitted they nearly kissed.

“Why didn’t you!?’

“Because, Ollie!” She says dramatically, “four hours ago the man was engaged and may I remind you, we’ve been broken up for over a decade. Why the hell would I let him kiss me when there is no chance something would come out of it.”

“You don’t know that, Y/n,” Ollie comes around the kitchen island, wine glass in hand. “Look, you may not have seen it but my eyes know what I saw this whole weekend. And it was a man who wants to sweep you off your feet and take you to the nearest chapel.”

“Ollie—.”

“Did you not see his reaction when you clocked that bitch? My God it looked like he was about to pop a semi.” Y/n put her free hand to her face, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. The whole moment at the bar was a blur to her from the moment she saw that wrench put her hand on Caroline. It was all a haze until she was outside dealing with a throbbing hand. Barely did Y/n look at Rooster, she was focused on her daughter.

“Noooo, I did not see his reaction, Ollie. I was too busy dealing with the fact I was about to commit bloody murder.”

“Well I can assure, babe, that your sexy pilot of an ex was wanting to throw you over his shoulder and take you to bed. After of course making sure sweet Caroline was okay.” Setting down his wine glass, he gives her a stern look, “Tell me the truth, do you still love him?”

“It’s complicated—.”

“It’s a yes or no, Y/n.”

“What exactly do you want me to say,” she threw her hand out, “that yes I’m still hopelessly hung over him and wish I could go back and time to stop myself from leaving? That seeing him this weekend made me feel like a twenty-two year old girl again? That I have envisioned everyday since Caroline told me about the switch, that maybe we could pick things off where we left?” They were all rhetoric questions, Ollie allowing her to rant as tears threatened her eyes. “Of course I do—to all of the above. But this isn't one of my books, Ollie, this is real life—a-and his life is here while mine is in New York. I don’t want to leave that and how should I expect him to leave all of what he has built here for me?” Sniffing, Y/n looks away with a hand to her chin, whispering, “It’s why I left in the first place.”

The rest of the night the two packed the rental car so it was ready for the morning and watched cheesy rom-coms since neither could really sleep. They got maybe four hours on the couch, but soon their alarm woke them up to start the day. Y/n called Lila to make sure she was awake and ready before showering herself, putting on a simple outfit for the flight.

It was a heartfelt goodbye when they arrived at Roosters home. Caroline held onto Y/n for almost five minutes, the woman promising to call her everyday so she could hear how the teens' day. They spoke of excitement for the holidays with Y/n promising to take her and Lila skating around the big tree and to celebrate New Year’s in Time Square. Not too far from them Lila was held by Rooster, the teen lightly crying when they pulled away.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” He tells her, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Maybe sooner than you think, Lila darlin’.” She doesn’t think much of the comment, only nodding up at him before embracing Caroline when approaches. Together the girls walk to the car with the adults watching as Ollie gives a hug to Caroline.

“You take care of yourself, Y/n/n,” Rooster places a hand on her shoulder, “and hope you two have a safe flight.”

“Thank you,” she tells him, offering a tight smile. “And I will.” He surprises the author when his lips gently press against her forehead, squeezing her hand after it had fallen from her shoulder to hold it. They share one last look, Y/n nodding to him before walking up to the car. She and Caroline share one more embrace, Y/n kissing the teen’s head with Caroline shutting the door of the car behind her. Waving through the window, Y/n blows her a kiss as Ollie presses on the gas. Soon Rooster and Caroline grow smaller in the rear view mirror, the distance growing by the second until finally they disappear when they turn the corner onto the freeway.

On the plane Lila barely talks. She’s either nose deep in the book she bought at one of the airport shops, headphones in, or looking out the window with absolute silence. Y/n tries to have a conversation, but eventually gives up knowing her daughter needed some time. The only response she received when assuring Lila the holidays were around the corner was a sad nod. Within hours the sunny skies of California turn into gloomy clouds of New York. Rainfall greeted them as they stepped out of the airport, finding their Uber quickly to beat the afternoon rush. It took maybe an hour for them to get home from JFK, Y/n frowning when she saw Lila wipe a tear away.

Ollie was dropped off at his home first, waving to them with the promise of seeing them later for dinner. Dropping their stuff in the foyer, they call out to Y/n’s parents. “Mom? Dad?” “Gran? Grandpa?”

“I’ll check the study,” Y/n moves to the room her dad spent most of his day in. A smile appeared when she entered to see the morning’s newspaper in his hands.

Or so she thought was her dad’s hands.

Leaning against the door, Y/n spoke with a soft voice, “Hey, stranger, we’re back?”

The paper dropped to the desk, revealing a beaming Caroline in a flight suit sitting in the chair. Y/n’s jaw dropped, hand going to her chest. Caroline gave a cheeky look, “Hey, mom, did you know an F-18 can get you here in a quarter of the time compared to a commercial jet?”

All she could do was nod back slowly, feeling her heart pound against her chest. “Y-yes, I-I’ve heard. What—.” Upon her gasp when she saw Caroline, Lila raced into the study, matching the expression of her mother.

“Care! What are you doing here?”

The twin rose from the chair, “Hope you don’t mind us crashing in. But, it took us less than a minute after you guys left for us to realize we didn’t want to lose you both again.”

Y/n almost stumbled as she took a step into the study, “W-we?”

Caroline’s gaze drifted to the other entrance of the room, where Rooster appeared in his own flight suit, eyes locked on Y/n, “We.” He heard her make a sound, the hand on her chest going to her mouth. “My biggest regret was letting you walk away that day, Y/n. I’m not gonna make that mistake again. And I promise to never make you feel like you aren’t worthy of something—because you are worthy of everything you set your mind to. And I’m gonna make sure you know that everyday.”

Y/n started to feel the emotion bile in her throat, shaking her head slightly to stay strong. “A-and I suppose you just expect me to fall into your arms like I did all those years ago,” she saw a smile form on the corner of his lips, the man slowly moving closer to her with a knowing look. “And cry hysterically saying we can figure this whole thing out and have a long-distance relationship with our girls being raised here and there,” he continues to move closer, making Y/n’s heart pump faster. “—and we just pick up where we left off…with the promise of growing old together and…”

By now Rooster was directly in front of her, gaze full of love and adoration. She forgot what she was about to say, getting lost in his eyes, “oh come on, Roo. Is this supposed to be a happily ever after?”

“Yes,” he cupped her face in his hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks that were warm and damp. “To all of it, Y/n/n. You write happily ever afters for a living, now it’s time for you to have your own.” He smirks adding, “Except you don’t have to cry hysterically, baby.”

That nickname combined with the offer had the tears rolling down her cheeks, Y/n nodding weakly against his palms, “Oh yes I do.” The last word was met with his mouth pressed against hers, fireworks erupting all over her body. Letting her eyes flutter shut, Y/n’s hands moved to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, feeling Rooster smile causing her to do the same.

Behind them their daughters were holding back their squeals, Lila falling dramatically onto the sofa while Caroline leaned against the bookshelf, “I can’t believe we actually did it!” They eventually moved out of the study to allow the pair some privacy, all the while they never broke the kiss until needing air but kept their mouths close.

“Wait a moment,” she ran her hands along his flight suit, “Did you steal an F-18 so you could get here before me to come confess your love—and had our daughter in the backseat?”

He gives a shrug, grinning wide, “Maybe.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” She looks at him like he grew two heads. “And how does Caroline—.”

“Well actually Mav helped me out,” his arms went around her waist, pulling her against him. “We got special permission—so don’t worry I won’t be arrested anytime soon. As for Care, Fanboy and Bob have been teaching her a thing or two about being a backseater. I think she’s getting the hang of it.”

“Oh my lord,” Y/n closes her eyes before laughing at the whole situation. Rooster laughs with her, nuzzling his head into her neck. “You are an impossible man, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Only for you, Y/n L/n.

Six months later……

Y/n wiped the sweat from her forehead, pressing the enter button with a huff of victory. The glasses were removed from her face, leaning against the back of her chair to give her body the much needed stretch. When her arms extended out to relax the tense muscle, the diamond ring on her finger sparkled against the light. The sight made her smile, eyes going back to the words on the screen.

A knock on the door sounded seconds later, “Come in.” Gently opening, Rooster appeared with a mug of steaming coffee, his own wedding band reflecting as he shut the door. “Hey you.”

“Hey yourself,” he winks, coming to put the mug on her coaster before leaning down to kiss her lips. “Lila called, the two are staying after school for a club meeting.” Y/n thanks him for the coffee, nodding at his words with a knowing look.

“I take it pizza is the move then tonight?”

Rooster chuckles, “Unless you want me to whip up some pasta, but I gotta warn you it’s not gonna be anywhere near what you get in town. Although not to toot my own horn, my spaghetti is pretty damn good. At least that’s what Caroline tells me.”

“Oh goodness, well I can eat anything at this point,” she sighs dramatically, “Or maybe we can tell them to meet us at Milo’s. I think a celebration is in order.” Rooster tilts his head confused, but then smiles at the word doc on the screen.

“You finished?”

“Yes,” she beams. “Well I finished the draft. I plan to edit it myself first before sending it off….but it’s done.”

“That’s amazing, baby,” he kisses her cheek, gesturing for her to get up so he could sit and have her in his lap. “I’m so proud of you. You got that done in a record time. Didn’t you just start that—not even a month ago?” Y/n nods shyly.

“I had a lot of inspiration. The words just flew out honestly—Yolanda is gonna have a field day.”

Rooster gets a glimpse of the last paragraph causing a smile to appear on his lips. Respecting her writer's privacy he didn’t ask much about the novel when she started writing it, only when she discussed it on her own terms. He could see the excitement in her eyes, warmth in his veins by how happy she was and couldn’t wait to read it when she finished. “May I ask what inspired this book, Y/n/n? Although, I do have a funny feeling.” Y/n didn’t have to answer, her bashful smile was enough to tell him everything. “Have you thought of a title yet?”

Glancing to her screen, Y/n read over the final paragraph stopping at the words in bold THE END. Her readers were gonna freak out when it would be announced she’s coming out with a sequel to her second released book, the one responsible for her receiving fan mail with them begging for her to continue the story. To give the characters their happy ending.

She just needed her happy ending first.

The story was being written in real time.

“I was bouncing between a couple, but I think I have it,” she faces her husband, grinning as the name slips off her tongue. It was what Lila and Caroline had coined when Y/n came to them about the book.

“I think I’m gonna call it….The Parent Trap.”

……………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #lt bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x y/n #Bradley bradshaw fluff #Bradley bradshaw angst #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #tgm imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun fluff #miles teller characters

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tongue-like-a-razor · 3 months

Text

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

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@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

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roosterforme · 3 months

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist (Rooster x Reader)

After Bradley breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything. Suddenly he has a group of inquisitive pen pals that he's more than happy to converse with, and their pretty teacher is someone he finds he wants to get to know better, too.

roosterforme masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #yours truly bradley bradshaw #if you ask emily

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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

Text

Remind Me - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw is one hell of an aviator. He's one of the best at what he does. You only wish the same could be said of his performance as your husband.

A/N: this is my first real attempt at angst but I ended up making it smutty and fluffy as well so there's that. I was inspired and got a little carried away. Inspired by Remind Me by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader

content/warnings: angst, allusions to cheating, allusions to divorce, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, Bradley being an unattentive husband bc he's clueless, fluffy ending.

word count: 4.6k

"Been so long that you'd forget, the way I used to kiss your neck Remind me, remind me So on fire, so in love, way back when we couldn't get enough Remind me, remind me"

You pulled into the driveway of your beachfront home, the salty Californian breeze encompassing you as you turned the key in the front door, a bag of groceries nestled on your hip as you pushed the door open. A deafening silence came over you as you walked through the entryway, and you noticed that your husband, Bradley, was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t unusual for Bradley to fall asleep in front of the tv on a Sunday afternoon, the drone of sports commentary providing a backdrop to his nap, a neglected bottle of beer warming on the coffee table, condensation tracing its descent down the amber glass. However, today, the usual harmonic sounds of Sportscenter and Bradley's gentle snores was conspicuously absent, replaced by an eerie quiet that settled around you like a heavy blanket, an empty couch, and a note on your kitchen counter - Bradley’s idea of conveying information that wasn’t life or death - scribbled in his distinct, masculine penmanship.

“Hey beautiful, be back soon, out for golf and beers with the boys - B.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his predictable escapades, a mixture of annoyance and resignation washing over you. You let out a long huff as you set the groceries down on the counter, the rustle of paper bags echoing in the stillness of the kitchen. As you meticulously organized the contents into the fridge and pantry, your gaze fell upon the neglected stack of dirty dishes occupying the sink. Their number seemed to have multiplied since the previous night, despite Bradley’s assurances that he would take care of them. You had even reminded him earlier that morning, amidst sips of your morning coffee, only to receive a distracted hum and a vague nod as he scrolled through his phone, his attention elsewhere. This wasn’t anything new for you - Bradley often had a single tracked mind, unable to focus his attention on more than one thing at a time when he wasn’t in the cockpit of a plane, but lately, it felt like every conversation you tried to invoke was one-sided, with Bradley giving little more than a half-hearted “mhmm” in response, regardless of the topic.

As you closed the fridge, you noticed that your dry-erase calendar had a new date encircled in pink, with Bradley’s unmistakeable writing on display in the center.

“Mission: 3 wks?”

“Of course you have another fucking mission,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head.

The realization hit you like a freight train, slamming into your heart with a pang of unfairness. Bradley's profession demanded his constant departure and return, but the frequency of his missions seemed almost cruel, especially considering the fleeting moments of bliss you shared during his brief stints at home. Six weeks had barely passed since his last return, yet it felt as if his presence was unchanged from the way it had been when he was gone.

Between rigorous training sessions and endless briefings, Bradley sought solace in the camaraderie of his buddies – Jake, Reuben, and Mickey – the trio of bachelors who seemed to relish in their freedom. Their escapades ranged from impromptu drinks to leisurely rounds at the driving range, filled with a sense of masculinity and adventure that Bradley found himself longing to be a part of. Approaching the dreaded milestone of forty, he yearned for the carefree attitude he held in his youth, reminiscing about the exhilarating escapades of his twenties and earlier thirties - ending right around 36 years old when he met you.

In a bid to reclaim some form of that lost spontaneity, Bradley had tentatively ventured into his friends realm, seeking companionship in their revelries. Initially relegated to the role of designated driver, his latent talent for piano and penchant for serenading transformed him into the life of the party. What started as a sporadic outing soon morphed into a monthly ritual, then gradually escalated into a seemingly incessant cycle where every day not spent on base was dedicated to partying it up with "the boys"

As you sank into the welcoming embrace of the couch, enveloped by its plush cushions, a sense of desolation washed over you like a tidal wave. Clutching a pint-sized tub of ice cream to your chest, you sought solace in the flickering glow of the television, scanning through channels in a futile attempt to distract yourself from the gnawing ache within until Bradley came home. Settling on a marathon of romantic comedies on one of the dozens of channels that seem to play nothing but movies and reruns of old sitcoms, you blinked back tears as you watched the romance unfold on tv, all while feeling like your own was slowly dying.

It was three and a half hours later when Bradley finally came clattering through the door, a couple beers deep. You heard him clumsily kick his deck shoes off at the door, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood flooring as he walked down the hall with heavy steps. You did your best to ignore him, wanting to make it clear that you were upset, but not having the fight in you after three and a half hours of crying into a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream over Katherine Heigl and James Marsden and Reese Witherspoon and Josh Lucas and their romantic gestures, tender embraces and declarations of love and happily ever afters. You fixed your eyes on the tv as you caught sight of Bradley from the corner of your eye, his fluorescent pink golf shirt almost impossible to ignore.

As Bradley's voice echoed through the living room, infused with a hint of playful banter, you felt a pang of resignation tugging at your heartstrings. His honeyed drawl, his sun-kissed glow and his almost blonde highlights cascading through his curls, created a striking contrast against the solemnity that enveloped the room. With sunglasses perched atop his head like a crown, Bradley sauntered into view, his caramel-colored eyes scanning the scene before him with a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Hey honey! When’d you get home? You watchin’ one of those chick flicks?”, he spoke with a playful tone, an underlying hint of apprehension lingering in the air.

Ignoring his inquiry, you remained in your silence, your gaze fixed upon the flickering images on the television screen. Bradley's brow furrowed, the lines etching across his forehead as he searched for a clue amidst the sea of your emotions.

“Aw, I don’t mean chick flick in a bad way, baby, I’m just teasin’”, he continued, his voice laced with a soft plea for understanding. “Some of them aren’t so bad, you know, I like a couple of ‘em.”

When he was once again met with silence, Bradley took a couple of steps closer to where you lay on the couch, moving his tall, six-foot-three, athletic frame into your line of view. You continued to focus on the tv, finding it nearly impossible to ignore the neon hue of Bradley’s polo shirt now, noticing how he’d paired it with a basic pair of khaki shorts and his Ray-Ban aviators that he never left home without. He knit his brows together as he watched you, his eyes wafting over to the now empty ice cream tub with a single spoon sitting inside, resting on the coffee table. He hummed softly - something he often did when he was trying to think, as a confused look started forming on his face.

“Baby, come on, what’s bothering ya?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, “Did I do somethin’? ‘Cause if I did, I’m sorry for whatever it is.”

“You aren’t,” you finally responded, not breaking eye contact with Ryan Gosling as he appeared on the tv.

“I’m not what, babe?”

“Sorry. You’re not sorry. You never are sorry.”

“Honey, I’m not following ya.”

You huffed and shook your head as you sat up on the couch, wiping your eyes as you felt the hot tears stinging them once again as they threatened to make a return. A raw aching feeling built up within you as you took a deep breath, preparing to have the conversation you’d been dreading for who-knows-how-long. You looked down at your wedding band for a moment, the sight of it nearly enough to trigger painful sobs as you braced yourself for what was about to transpire between you and your husband.

“You’re not sorry. You’re never home because you choose to never be home. You’re not sorry for it. It’s like you don’t want to be around me, Bradley,” you started slowly, shaking your head as the tears began to fall.

“Baby, hang on-” Bradley begins before you cut him off.

“Look, Bradley, if you’re unhappy-”

“Unhappy? Baby, no, I could never be unhappy with you, what are you talking about?” Bradley cooed, kneeling down beside the couch as he brushed your hair behind your ear in a tender gesture to ermphasize his point.

“Are you seeing other women when you go out with the guys?” You say bluntly, giving Bradley a stare that practically burns right through him.

“What?! Honey, I think you’re getting the wrong idea here.”

“It’s really not that far-fetched, Bradley. You’re always wanting to go out with your only single friends, you constantly go out to play wingman with them at bars to help them get laid, then when you’re home, you never listen to me, it’s like I may as well be talking to myself most of the time. I only seem to see you if you’re hungry or asleep and that’s only because you can’t boil water to save your life and our bed is the only one in the house that always has clean sheets on it.”

“Babe, I don’t know who the fuck you think you married-” Bradley protested.

“Oh, really? Mr. “Didn’t-get-married-until-he-was-38-because-he-liked-picking-up-girls-in-bars-better? Wasn’t it because that was more convenient for you? Because then you’d never have a “little lady back home to worry about” whenever you went away?”

“That was before I met you, the minute I met you, I stopped wanting to do any of that bullshit. Our first date, I knew I wanted to marry you, honey.”

“That doesn’t mean that’s how you feel now, does it?! I mean, Christ’s sake, Bradley, when was the last time you even kissed me?! Let alone had sex with me, for fuck’s sake. I thought you wanted to try having kids soon once you got your promotion settled,” you said as your voice cracked, shaking your head.

“Honey, please,” Bradley began pleading, shaking his head.

You abruptly stood up from the couch, walking away from him and heading towards the kitchen. You opened the fridge, conveniently using the door to block Bradley from your sight, your anger towards him boiling towards the edge now. You grabbed yourself a drink and cracked the top off with the bottle opener, slamming the fridge door shut. Bradley held his hands up in defense as he looked at you, an expression of complete astoundment on his face.

“Baby, I may not be the smartest man out there, but I’m not unfaithful, you know that. I know you know that deep down.”

“Bradley, I don’t know what I know anymore. I used to know that you loved me too, but that doesn’t seem to hold true.”

“What are you talking about?! Honey, you know that I love you.”

“Do I?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Sweetheart, I’ve never loved anyone like I do you. I know showing it isn’t my strong suit - I never got to see much of an example other than pictures of my folks, but I know damn well that I look at you the same way my dad looked at my mom. And I know that I’ve never, in the four years since we started dating, ever, as much as entertained the idea of being with another woman. I married you. Remember? You were there. Better or worse, sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part, all that?”

“It’s pretty easy to vow to love someone for better or for worse when you’re never fucking around, isn’t it, Bradley?!”

“Well forgive me for fighting for our fucking country, Honey. What, you want me to just walk away from my duty?”

“Your country and your boys come before your wife, do you not see how fucked up that is?”

“You come first, always. I work as hard as I do at work for you. I try to work my ass off to get promotions and be leader on missions so I can make sure you’re taken care of. So that if anything ever happened to me, you’d be set, you’d never have to worry about a thing.”

“I don’t want that! I want you. You could pump gas for a living or be a lifeguard on the beach for all I fucking care. All I know is, the man I married isn’t here anymore, and I don’t know where he went or why.”

Bradley shook his head angrily and scoffed. His face began to turn red as he narrowed his eyes, beginning to talk with his hands.

“I’m the same fucking guy! Babe, is this seriously because I went golfing this afternoon?”

“No, Bradley, it’s because you’ve been home for six weeks and you haven’t as much as kissed me since you got home off the last mission, and I just saw that you put a new three week one on the calendar. You leave in 10 days and you didn’t even tell me! What, were you just going to fuck off and go when it came and not say a word?”

An awkward hush fell over the two of you, echoing throughout the house. Bradley looked to his feet, remaining quiet as he shook his head. He sighed loudly and pressed his hand to his forehead before looking up at you again.

“Honey, believe me, I only found out this morning, I was going to tell you…but,” He frowns as he realizes why he didn’t tell you. “But then Jake called, and I wanted to blow off steam about it, so I agreed to hit a few holes with him. But, Baby, I swear to you, I am the exact same Lieutenant Bradshaw who asked you out on a date four years ago. Remember? I almost missed a briefing just to talk to you. Nearly got my ass in trouble for it, but you were worth every second.”

You looked up at Bradley, sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip as you shook your head, almost in disbelief as you remembered how you and Bradley had met.

You were visiting Coronado for the day, your first trip over the San Diego Bay since moving to the city from Colorado Springs. The sun had been shining as you strolled through the picturesque town on the Pacific coast. Bradley had been walking up to one of the dozens of restaurants that scattered the main strip for lunch with a couple of his comrades, dressed in his khaki uniform as he waited in line for his food, his tanned skin and broad shoulders catching your eye almost immediately. He flashed a smile at you, and in that moment, you’d managed to forget your own name, completely entranced by the man in front of you.

From there, Bradley had asked you to sit with him for lunch, leaving his friends behind at a nearby picnic table. The two of you had so much fun simply talking that he didn’t realize the time, or that his friends had already left, and that he had to be back on base for a briefing in 10 minutes. He’d quickly exchanged numbers with you and practically sprinted back to his car - a 1972 Ford Bronco in pristine condition, something you remembered about him immediately, a detail you’d found yourself looking for on your outings in the downtown core of San Diego, in case he’d made the trip to your side of the bridge for some reason.

A week later you were on a second date, and from there, your relationship became official soon after, with a marriage proposal happening on your first anniversary when Bradley arrived home from a mission. He saw you waiting for him on base, standing there in a pale blue sundress, looking even more beautiful than he’d remembered when he left a few weeks prior. He ran up to you, picking you up and swirling you around as he held you close, kissing you more passionately than he’d ever done before. No sooner than he put you back down, he dropped to one knee and asked you to be his wife, and you said yes, without an ounce of hesitation.

“Bradley,” you sighed sadly, shaking your head as you looked up at him.

“Honey, I swear to you, from the day that I asked you to sit down for lunch with me, I have never even looked at another woman. All I ever do for the guys when we go out is offer to talk to a girl on Jake’s behalf after he fucks it up and I have to go explain that his brain stopped maturing once he hit about age 15 when it comes to women. He thinks with his dick sometimes and gets his dumbass in trouble. I just go smooth it over so he doesn’t get a kick to the nuts or arrested for something stupid, like fighting some girl’s boyfriend.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, oh my God, you really thought I was cheating on you? What would any other woman have that you don’t? I’m just there babysitting Jake, and, I usually get a free beer and a plate of Buffalo wings out of the deal.”

“You...you do it for chicken wings?”

“I mean, I do it to hang out with my friends in situations where we’re not planning a mission or flying like our asses depend on it because we might not make it home otherwise.”

You nod your head slowly as everything suddenly starts making sense. It wasn’t that Bradley didn’t want to be with you, it was that he wanted some sense of normalcy with his friends, instead of what had become normal for them at work. You could appreciate it, even if Bradley was going about things the wrong way.

“Can I show you something?” He said softly, cautiously reaching out to take you by the hand as you nodded your head.

Bradley pulled you in close to his body, wrapping you up in his strong arms and holding you in a passionate embrace as he kissed you with everything he had in him. His lips hungrily kissed at yours, his tongue flitting out to trace your bottom lip as you parted your mouth just so to allow him access. A soft, breathy moan escaped from your throat as you kissed Bradley, the passion overtaking you as he gently pulled away, still hovering above your mouth.

“I want to remind you how much I love you.”

Without another word, Bradley hoisted you up onto the counter, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you towards him. He knelt down in front of you, gently tapping your inner thigh with his hand as you parted your legs for him. Bradley pulled your comfy shorts down off your waist, dragging them down your legs before dropping them to the floor. He ducked his head down between your thighs as his hands rested on you, pulling you ever so slightly in towards him. His tongue licked a long, slow trail up your slit, eliciting a loud, breathy gasp from your lips.

Bradley’s tongue began to work at you, licking and sucking at your sensitive clit as you tilted your head back. Your fingers raked their way into his curls, tugging gently on them as you guided his head in to your center, a whine leaving your lips as you felt him encircling it with his tongue, his touch delicate, yet passionate, as if he was making this his life’s work. You felt his tongue tracing shapes on you - letters, almost, and Bradley’s muffled voice had a tone of seduction to it as he spoke, his lips vibrating against your swollen, puffy cunt, sending a whole new sensation through you.

“Bradley!” You cried out, throwing your head forward to watch what he was doing, “I-I’m getting close, honey.”

Bradley looked up at you from under hooded lids as he watched your facial expressions, loving how your body was reacting to his touch. There was a newfound look of determination in his eyes as he slipped two of his long, slender fingers inside of you without breaking contact with his mouth. The feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot and his combination of licking and sucking at your clit like a man starved was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs began to quiver as you felt yourself approach your climax, screaming out Bradley’s name, making it the only sound that could be heard echoing through your empty house.

“Gonna explain what the fuck that new technique of yours is?” You panted as you came down from your euphoria, your head spinning as you stared at Bradley, who was wiping his chin with the back of his hand and sporting a look of pure pride.

“My wedding vows,” He shrugged, as if this was the most obvious explanation in the world.

“Your vows? You recited your vows?”

“Sure did, babygirl. Had to show you I remembered them somehow, figured that was better than me reciting them while bending you over the countertop. I’m not done convincing you just yet though.”

He smirked, taking you by the hand as he helped you down off the counter. Bradley turned you around, your back facing him as he placed his firm, strong hand on you, guiding you as you bent over and rested your hands on the cold marble surface in front of you. You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you realized your husband’s methods of making it up to you - he was never great with words, spoken apologies usually ended up coming out wrong, words getting tangled and twisted on his tongue, unable to string together a coherent sentence that held any meaning. However, what Bradley lacked in his communication, he made up for with his actions, doing whatever grandiose measure he could to make it up to you.

Bradley’s broad hand stroked your back, running down to your ass as he gave it a playful squeeze. He let out a low groan as he undid his golf shorts, hurriedly kicking them off behind him. Bradley gave his cock a few quick strokes with his hand before running his tip along your dripping wet slit to tease you.

“Ready for me, Honey?” He purred, grinning as he watched you tense up as you felt him brush against your clit.

“Bradley, so help me, if you don’t stop teasing me-” your sentence was cut off abruptly as you felt Bradley buck his hips forward, pushing his length into your entrance.

You whined as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, feeling full as he bottomed out inside of you, Bradley leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder as he gave you time to adjust. Bradley stood himself upright, lining his hips up with yours as he pulled back before giving a hard thrust forwards. He began pumping himself in and out of you, snapping his hips into a rhythm as he held your hips in place with his hands. Each thrust was sharp and calculated, hitting all the right places in perfect timing. There was one thing your husband prided himself on more than anything, and that was how well he made love to his wife.

“That’s it, Honey, you look so pretty taking my cock like this,” Bradley hummed, his voice sultry and smooth as he praised you.

“Bradley, harder.” You commanded, whining as you felt an aching need for him to let you cum.

Bradley began thrusting deeper into you, taking less care to be gentle with each movement. You felt your knees buckling with pleasure as he thrusted, and the sounds coming from both you and Bradley were beyond obscene, but in the best possible way.

“Baby, I’m getting close,” He breathed, tilting his head back and panting. “Do you want me to pull out?”

“No!” You responded, clenching your thighs around him, in a more zealous response than you intended. “Need you, Bradley. I don’t care what happens. I need you.”

You could almost hear the change in tone from Bradley as soon as you spoke. Except, instead of killing the mood, like you’d anticipated, Bradley began fucking himself into you harder than before, almost desperate as he gripped your hips tightly.

“You want me to fill you up, my pretty girl? Want me to cum in that tight little pussy of yours?” He husked, his body practically giving way to pleasure as he thought about it.

“Mhmm!” was all you could muster out of you as you nodded your head, feeling yourself reach your orgasm again, your walls clenching around him tightly.

“Fuck, Honey, you got it. Anything you want, Babygirl, I’ve got ya.” He babbled as he fell apart inside of you.

You placed your palms flat against the counter to hold yourself steady as Bradley’s thrusts became sloppier, slowing until they reached a gradual stop. He held his positon inside of you for a few moments while he caught his breath, almost too exhausted to move. As he pulled out, you let out a deep sigh, almost aching at the now emptiness in you.

You finally got air back into your lungs as you stood upright, turning to face him as you leaned your back against the counter. Your gaze fell on Bradley, a blissful look of exhaustion on your face. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his curls now slightly dampened from a mixture of the Californian humidity and the passionately wild sex you’d just had. Bradley gave you a crooked grin as he gently put his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to him.

“How was that for my apology? Or do you need me to do it again? ‘Cause if you give me like, an hour, I’ll go grab one of those Body whatever drinks Jake always has after a workout and I’ll be good to go for another round,” Bradley chuckled, stroking your hair.

“It was good, you’re forgiven. But,” you paused, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’d appreciate it if you spent a little more time with me. Maybe we could catch a ball game together, go for a road trip or something.”

“You know what? That sounds like a great idea. I’ve got tomorrow and the next day off. We could drive up to Malibu or something. Hell, Vegas is only four hours. May as well check that off our bucket list while we still can.”

“While we still can?” You cocked your head to the side, giving him an incredulous look.

“Well, you just begged me not to pull out…and if it’s alright by you, I’d kinda like to see what happens if we kept doing that,” Bradley said with a playful grin, laughing as he stroked your cheek.

“Oh, is that so?” You smirked, shaking your head at him.

“Well, this road trip will give us four hours and a lot of desert to pull over in. You’ll get lots of chances to see what happens.”

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