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Summary: Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the Hard Deck.
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: drinking, arguments, angsty feelings.
Pairings: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader
“I just- I don’t know what to do about him, Nat.” You were seated across from Natasha on her bed, hand in hers as she worked on your nails. One well-kept secret about Phoenix was that she was incredibly talented in nail art; a secret that you regularly capitalized on as her best friend. She often used you for practice, like she was doing right now. Silently, the pilot nodded, used to your ranting about Bradley by now. “He’s just so- so oblivious.”
Unbeknownst to Bradley, you’d had a massive crush on him for months. You had been friends with the mustached pilot for nearly three years. He was an amazing friend, and in that department, you couldn’t ask for more. The only issue that you had was that apparently, Bradley was blinder than a bat. No matter how hard you tried or how obvious you made it, Bradley never picked up on your crush on him.
Normally, you wouldn’t mind that your feelings remained a secret, however; your feelings had reached the point where you knew they weren’t going away anytime soon. The only option left was to try and tell Bradley how you felt.
Painting one of the roses on your nails, Nat weighed in on the situation. “He’s an idiot.” Her choice of words had you stifling a giggle, receiving a playful glare when your hand twitched. You murmured an apology as she continued. “The only way he’s gonna realize how you feel is if you’re straightforward about it.”
A groan bubbled out of your chest. You hated confrontation. Surely if Bradley was smart enough to be in the top one percent of all naval aviators, he was smart enough to realize your feelings for him. Right?
“I know, I know,” You started, “I just wish he could open his eyes for once.”
“Maybe if he shut his mouth for once his eyes would have some room to work,” Phoenix muttered, knowing exactly how stubborn the pilot was. The two of you descended into giggles as Natasha finished off your nails.
Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, blasting music as you drove to the hard deck. Jake had organized a night out for the group, and the two of you certainly weren’t ones to pass on a fun night out with friends. As Natasha hadn’t hesitated to point out, maybe you would finally get the chance to tell Bradley how you felt.
You pulled into the parking lot and parked beside Jake’s truck. The two of you hopped out and headed into the bar, already plotting what interesting drink orders you could try and get Penny to make this time. The second you stepped into the bar, you were greeted loudly by the group of aviators. With large smiles, you and Phoenix joined the group and were quickly pulled into whatever idiotic story Jake was telling. Unsurprisingly, your eyes quickly found Bradley.
Phoenix pretended that she couldn’t see how your stare lingered on your coworker. While you knew that Phoenix knew, you were oblivious to the fact that Jake and Bob had also figured out your little secret. Natasha forbade them from saying anything or trying to persuade Bradley into doing anything stupid. God only knows that if they told that fool to make a move on you he’d find some way to mess it up.
As Jake rambled on about some hilarious incident from his recent vacation back in Texas, you couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you told Bradley the truth. Honestly, you were tired of wasting time. You didn’t want to miss out on anything anymore. Even if Bradley didn’t feel the same, you needed to know. At least then you would be able to move on knowing that nothing could ever happen between the two of you.
Natasha’s elbow in your side pulled you out of your depressing thoughts. She fixed you with a knowing look, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the rest of the group dispersed at the end of Jake's story. “Tell him,” she urged you quietly. “We both know that he’ll never figure it out on his own.” And with that, you mustered up all the courage that you could before disappearing into the crowd to find Bradley.
Suddenly, Bob and Jake popped up over Natasha’s shoulder. “Twenty bucks says the dumbass still finds a way to screw it up.” Bob and Natasha hummed in agreement.
By the bar top, you were just about to call out to Penny to ask where Bradley was when you spotted it; a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and a pornstache that could put all the rest to shame. It took a couple of minutes of maneuvering through the intoxicated crowd, but eventually, you were standing right behind him. At the soft tap on his shoulder, Bradley spun quickly, surprised to find you standing there.
“Hey Bradshaw,” you started, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded for you to continue. “I just wanted to tell you that-” Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by some blonde winding her arms around his shoulders and peppering kisses up the side of his neck. Your words died in your throat as you started at the scene in front of you. Bradley didn’t even try to push her off. You felt sick to your stomach.
Noticing the tears welling in your eyes, the blonde smirked. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She sounded innocent, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing by trailing her finger across his chest and sucking a mark into the skin of his neck. You could only shake your head, feeling bile rise in your throat. The room suddenly seemed hot; you were desperate to find a way out of there. Before you knew it, you were shoving your way through the crowd and out the door of the bar.
With the blonde still clinging to his side, Bradley looked around the room in confusion. He met Natasha’s stern gaze and instantly knew that he had screwed it up somehow. Bradley huffed and pushed the blonde off of him, rolling his eyes at the scoff she let out. Then he was following after you, leaving the chaos of the bar behind him as he chased you into the parking lot. “Hey!” He called out, hand grasping your wrist. “What the hell is your problem?”
You jerked your wrist out of his hand and spun to face him angrily. Your face was hot with anger and Bradley could have sworn he saw steam coming from your ears. Despite all this, he could see tears welling in your eyes. “My problem?” You seethed, stepping dangerously close to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. “My problem, Bradshaw, is that you’re ignorant enough to let that- that slut hang off your arm without a care in the world!”
It killed you to see him standing there with her, but what was worse than all of that, was the fact that he didn’t care in the slightest. It’s not like she was someone he was seeing; she was just a random face in the bar. Somehow, that made things worse to bear.
Bradley scoffed and dismissively shoved your finger away from his chest. “Why the fuck do you care?” You could only stare at him, searching for the words he wanted to hear. “That chick had nothing to do with you, and you know that so what the fuck is your problem?” He paused, his words cutting deep as you searched for a response.
Behind him, the bar door opened revealing Jake, Bob, and Natasha. They watched silently as you continued to rip into each other.
“You know what, you fucking dick?” You were close to him once more; so close that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You are the most ignorant, self-absorbed person I have ever met.” With each accusation, you drove your finger into his chest harder, despite his attempts at brushing it off. “You are so wrapped up in your own bullshit that you don’t even notice who you’re hurting!”
You had never spoken to him like this before. Sure, there had been little arguments here and there, but the rage that he saw in your eyes now was something new entirely. A single, angry tear dripped down your face. “You don’t think about anyone besides yourself! You certainly don’t care about them. And believe me, Bradshaw, you have made that more than obvious.”
The pilot in front of you scoffed once more, having no retort for your deep jab at his character. Of course, he cared for the people around him, and for you to suggest otherwise was, in his mind, unfathomable.
However, you didn’t stop there. “You are absolutely unbelievable! You are so oblivious it’s painful, Bradshaw. You must have your head stuck up your ass to miss every single hint I’ve been giving you for months!” You paused for a moment, waiting for Bradley to interject.
He didn’t, refusing to believe anything you said to be true. There was no way that you could have feelings for him. Was there?
He shook his head in annoyance. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out, hating how easily you were able to sidestep it. “Why the fuck do you care who I flirt with?” His voice was loud, even scaring those watching from the front steps of the bar. Bradley figured that you were probably having a bad day and had taken your anger out on him. Even though he hoped that this wasn’t the case and that you actually did care about who was flirting with him. It was wishful thinking; to imagine that you would ever see him as anything more than an annoying friend. He was sure of it.
You could only groan angrily with tears still tracking down your skin. “Jesus, Bradshaw, because I love you, you fucking idiot!” It was as if time stood still. That was what it felt like as you watched Bradley process the reality of the words that you had just shouted at him. No movement came from the pilot in front of you; the only sign of life being the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. There was no way it could be true. There was no way that a kind-hearted, sweet girl like yourself could ever fall for anyone as messed up as him. To Bradley, the mere idea of you having feelings for him was unfathomable.
For months, he had watched you from afar, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He slowly began to learn what you loved, from your favourite song to sing along to when you were drunk at 2 am to your favourite flavour of ice cream. Bradley learned what made you laugh until your stomach hurt and what made you cry until your cheeks were stained. He knew every little thing about you but he never acted on it, in fear that you would never feel the same. To know that all this time, you had feelings for him as well, was surreal.
The deafening silence grew between the two of you, moving until it encompassed the bystanders waiting in front of the bar with bated breath. Continuing to stare at the pilot, your mind was running a million miles a minute. What had you just done? Sure, the two of you were arguing, but that was no reason to bear your true feelings to the man. What if he didn’t feel the same? You were convinced that this had to be the case when he refused to move a muscle.
“Bradley,” you whispered, nerves showing through the shake in your voice. “Please, say something.” Your mind plagued you with thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You were fully expecting him to turn around and storm off, refusing to ever speak to you again. With tears filling your eyes once more, you pleaded one last time. “Bradl-”
Your eyes widened as Bradley cut you off in a way you would have never expected. In one fluid, sudden motion, Bradley had lunged toward you, his lips moulding softly with yours. His hands cradled your waist, holding you as if you were a delicate flower. You could have sworn you heard yourself squeak but honestly, you were too overwhelmed to tell.
As Bradley continued to kiss you gently, your eyes fluttered shut. You became lost in the feeling of his hand caressing your side. His pinky finger slipped under the hem of your top, drawing a light gasp from your lips. The kiss deepened as Bradley pulled you towards him by your waist and as your hand worked into his soft curls at the base of his neck.
A soft giggle slipped past your lips as that familiar pornstache that you were used to making fun of was now tickling your upper lip. The pilot smiled into the kiss at the feeling, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours lovingly mere seconds later. “Does that answer your question?” He whispered, causing more giggles to flow from your mouth. You could only nod, still starstruck by the actions of the man holding you.
For the second time this evening, you were close enough to the pilot that you were able to smell his breath. While the faint scent of alcohol was still present, you were now able to pick up the familiar scent of your strawberry lip gloss. One glance at his parted lips was enough for you to see the slight pink hue that your lip gloss caused him.
There was a lovestruck smile on his face; a stark contrast to the anger shining in his eyes merely twenty minutes ago. Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked down at you. While he knew that he never stated it clearly, he was in awe of the wonderful woman that you were. As he thought about how perfect you were, guilt for the way he spoke to you before began to eat at him.
He cleared his throat, needing to make amends for his actions. “Seriously, though,” He started, eyes softening as he recalled the events from earlier. “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. What I said was completely uncalled for and out of line.” The corners of your mouth twitched up in a forgiving smile as you reached up to stroke the corner of his mustache with your thumb. Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, rocking the two of you softly. “I love you so, so much, baby girl.”
Your hand trailed from his soft cheek to the back of his neck as he shifted the two of you, fingers once again threading through the short curls. Warm, ocean air breezed past the two of you as Bradley held you close. Behind you, the sun was setting beautifully over the ocean. It painted the parking lot with a soft, pink glow. No matter how many sunsets you had seen before, for some reason, this one was the most beautiful. It was almost as if the beauty of the sunset reflected your feelings for each other. Despite the rocky road that it took you to get here, no moment had ever seemed as perfect as this one.
Unsurprisingly, your moment of bliss was quickly interrupted by the other aviators waiting at the steps of the bar. Your friends gradually made their way closer, unable to contain their questions and comments any longer. You felt Bradley sigh into the skin of your neck before he kissed it softly, causing butterflies to swarm in your chest. With your head still tucked into his chest, you felt a blush begin to creep up your neck at the realization that your friends had likely watched the whole event unfold. Despite the flush in your cheeks, you still made eye contact with each of them, dreading the inevitable bombardment of questions that were bound to come.
Even as you stood in front of your friends, ready to explain the rollercoaster of a scene they just witnessed, Bradley’s arms remained wound around your waist. His thumb moved over the bare skin of your side softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “No need to explain.” Nat offered with a reassuring smile. She could sense that you were hesitant to have to explain it all so quickly. Plus, she knew that she would get the details soon enough.
Together, Bob, Jake, and Nat offered you their congratulations before turning to head back to the bar. With his arm still around your waist, you and Bradley follow your friends in sync with each other. Your still-rosy cheek rested against his broad shoulder.
Jake wasted no time in collecting his winnings from the previous bet, pumping his fist in the air as Bob and Nat each handed Jake a 20. In the back of your mind, you briefly wonder why they handed him the cash in the first place. Once the five of you re-entered the air-conditioned comfort of the bar, Jake turned to you and Bradley, announcing that drinks were on him with that familiar, shit-eating grin on his face. That alone should have been enough to tell you that there was more to the story than you suspected.
Despite the weariness in both yours and Bradley’s minds, if Jake was offering to buy your drinks, who were you to turn it down? Just as you were about to take a sip of your beer, Bob piped up. “He bet you’d screw it up,” He quipped, grinning at the mixture of betrayal and shock written on Jake’s face that instantly took over his previous cocky expression. Within seconds Bradley had smacked his arm. While he was slightly annoyed that Jake had bet against him, he was more upset about the fact that he allowed Jake to win.
Bob and Phoenix continued to laugh at Jake’s dejected expression as you and Bradley watched fondly. The aviator pulled you into his side with gentle movements and your head fell onto his shoulder the second you were snuggled up against him.
In a state of bliss, you allowed your eyes to slip shut. You could only savour the feeling of being held in the arms of the man you loved. Tucked into Bradley’s side, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you would rather be. Turning his head, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, which caused a glowing smile to blossom on your face. A giggle escaped you at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, leading to a smile mirroring your own taking over his sculpted features.
Sure, it had been a rocky road to get here, but you would do it all over again if it meant feeling like this for a moment longer. You loved Bradley, and it brought you more relief than one could ever imagine to know that he felt the same for you.
Simply put, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic that you no longer had to keep your feelings a secret. Ecstatic that you could see a future blossoming between you and Bradley. Despite not knowing what that future held, you were positive that you and Bradley would be together for a long, long time to come.
However, one thing was for certain; Bradley Bradshaw was the most oblivious man you knew.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open. I’m excited to be back <3
Put a Bow on It | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: You find out that Bradley's present-wrapping skills are... less than stellar, so it's up to you to save Christmas.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: fluff, a few very light sexual references, incompetence of a grown man, fluffy fluff fluff
a/n: Thank you for the love on my previous posts — I’m really thankful to everyone who reads my silly little stories. Hope y’all enjoy this one, Merry Christmas!
“You can’t look at me like that,” Bradley says.
“Like what?” You ask, though you know exactly what he means.
It’s not that you mean to look at him with such pity, but who can blame you?
You weren’t exactly sure how he got himself into such a mess when you were only in the kitchen making coffees. Wedged between a stack of boxed Barbies and no less than 12 rolls of wrapping paper scattered across your living room floor, Bradley looks less competent aviator and more like an unsupervised 5th grader. Tattered strips of Santa wrapping paper curl around him, scraps of tape line both of his exposed thighs, and he’s so flustered he hasn’t even removed the bright red bow you tied around his head earlier. You both look down at the lumpy present sitting on the rug in front of him. For all his efforts, it wasn’t a spectacular result.
“You did great.” You have to hide your face with a drawn-out sip of coffee because you know if he catches a glimpse of your expression, he will call you out for your bald-faced lie.
He can tell anyway. “I’m not sure lying is the best way to get on the nice list.”
You do feel bad. It was your idea to get involved in the neighborhood toy drive, and despite his protests, you pleaded for Bradley to help.
“It will be fun,” you said before kissing his pouty lips. “I’ll make us coffees and you can light a fire and it’ll be so festive.”
“I’m sure it will be,” he cupped your face with his hands, “but I’m not lying when I say I can’t wrap a present to save my life.”
“You’ll do great.” You gave him another quick kiss and considered the matter over.
So, he didn’t do great. Could you really blame him? He tried to let you know beforehand, and it’s not like his military career was spent doing arts and crafts. You take another sip of your coffee before setting both mugs down and padding over to sit on the floor next to him.
“Am I off the wrapping duties?” He gives you a lopsided smile and slides his hand around your waist.
“You wish.” You reach over his lap and undo his wrapping job. “Get ready to learn a thing or two.”
He laughs when you use his own words against him, as you have throughout your entire relationship.
When you two weren’t yet dating – but still very much infatuated with each other – Bradley used pool as an excuse to get close to you, though no excuses were needed. You were putty in his hands already.
“Get ready to learn a thing or two,” he’d murmured in your ear. It was a Friday evening and The Hard Deck was packed, so he had to get close — mustache-ticking-your-ear close — so you could hear him over the rowdy crowd of sailors. And he was teaching you how to make a combination shot, so he had to wrap his arms around you so he could guide you through the motions. And you were a receptive student, so you had to lean against him so he could feel the curve of your ass — just so he knew his technique was working.
Now, nearly a year later on the rug of your living room, you slide up behind Bradley like he did that Friday night, your fingers gliding down his thick biceps towards his hands. They’re huge under yours, earning a laugh from both of you.
“Sweet girl, I’m not sure this is gonna work,” he says as you rest your chin on his shoulder. The curled ribbon from the bow in his hair tickles your check.
“Well, I know how to play pool thanks to this little trick. I’m sure I can use it to teach you how to wrap a present.”
You guide one of his hands toward the pair of scissors and another towards the pile of wrapping paper.
“Since I’m a great teacher, I’ll even let you pick which paper to use,” you say.
He lingers over the rolls for a moment, ultimately choosing a cranberry red paper with prints of cars carrying snow-dusted Christmas trees.
“Ok, now let’s roll it out. Look at me, Bradley.”
He pulls back a little so you can make complete eye contact. Even after months of dating, his warm brown eyes undo something in you, leaving you feeling like you’re brushing shoulders with the clouds. How did you ever get so lucky?
“It’s very important to measure the paper before cutting,” your voice softens as you drop the strict teacher act. “Put the Barbie at the edge of the wrapping paper, then you kinda fold up the other edge and see if it’s long enough.”
He takes a moment to soak you in before he can bring his attention back to the present. Up close, he can fully appreciate the graceful curve of your lips, the exact shade of your eyes. In the weepy, late morning sunlight, you are radiant.
The fire crackles in the background. The only other sound is your synchronous breathing.
You lean in slightly. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but I promised Cathy that we’d deliver the presents by 2, so you need to get moving.”
“You should boss me around more often.” He stares at you for a second longer before turning his attention back to the present.
You’re glad he turns around so he can’t witness the violent shade of red your face flushes — nearly as red as the wrapping paper.
Once the paper’s measured, you show him how to cut it with one swooshing glide of the scissors.
“It’s like I’m a professional,” he says.
“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” You squeeze his hands gently. “We’ve still got to tape this sucker up.”
He groans as you peel the scraps of tape off his thigh.
“How did you even do this to yourself?” You collect all the tape into one big wad. “You’re a grown man”
He shrugs. “I guess my mom was gone before she could teach me.”
At the mention of his mom, your heart melts. What you wouldn’t give to have her here for him, to walk him through this process he should have learned years ago. To spend another Christmas with her boy. You run your fingers through his sun-lightened locks. One night when you two first started dating, you sat on your porch alone. Under soft-falling moonlight, you promised Carole that you’d be there for her son; promised her that she and Goose could count on you to make sure he’d always be ok.
Something in Bradley’s face makes you think you were doing just fine on your promise. You can’t help the heat that rises to your checks when you catch him staring at you.
Then, with a mischievous smile, he swipes the tape wad from you, aims it, and launches it right at your face.
You try to get mad, to lecture him about the children who will be let down on Christmas morning without their Barbie doll, but the grin on his lips washes away any amount of anger you could dredge up. He wags his eyebrows and you can’t contain your laughter as it spills out of you and fills up the living room.
“You can’t be trusted with this dangerous weapon.” You grab the tape dispenser and wipe a tear from your eye. “I’ll rip the tape for you so you can just focus on folding.”
He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m actually trusted with dangerous weapons daily at work.”
You roll your eyes, but to his credit, Bradley is willing to learn. You gently guide him through the folds, but he picks it up pretty quick given that he doesn’t have to juggle the wrapping paper and the tape.
“That’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He holds up the present, admiring the sharp folds and the perfectly festive wrapping paper. “And I’ve got the perfect girl to thank.”
You dodge his incoming kiss, instead patting his cheek and standing up.
His brows knot in confusion before he realizes what you’ve gotten up to retrieve: a roll of velvety green ribbon.
You hold it up triumphantly. “One final touch.”
The absolute pain on his face steals the grin off yours.
You sink back down to the floor and wrap him tight in your arms, sliding your hand up his back to rub circles between his shoulders.
“Sweet girl,” he murmurs against your chest, “I really don’t have that in me.”
You kiss the top of his head. If Bradley draws the line here, you’re more than happy to finish the wrapping. Hell, you’d even lace his fucking shoes if it spared him the torture of tying any more bows. You are head-over-heels for Bradley Bradshaw, and you know he knows it. It’s a good thing he’s equally head-over-heels for you.
“Ok, Bradshaw, I’ll tie the bow, but I’ll need a little help.” You break away from him and begin unspooling the ribbon. “I know your mom taught you this.”
And he smiles because he knows what’s coming.
You twist the ribbon around the package, cross-crossing it over the top. You look to him, and already he’s jumping into action. He ceremoniously raises a finger and plants it perfectly on the intersection of the ribbon.
“Perfect.” You steadily finish the bow. It’s really good, you have to admit: entirely symmetrical, huge and bouncy like a cartoon.
And then Bradley is on top of you, pulling you into his lap, smushing kisses along your jaw, working his way to your lips. His kisses are hungry, but not sinfully so. You’re hungry too. Hungry to share the rest of your lives together. To wrap presents for your kids on Christmas Eve while they pretend to be asleep down the hall. To savor early Christmas mornings in matching pajamas, sipping hot chocolate while a fire sings in the hearth. Late Christmas evenings where he pulls you into his lap on the piano bench and plays your favorite carols — a little sloppily from the spiked eggnog and having to reach around you.
“I’m not in your way?” You would ask, already knowing his answer.
“No, you are right where you need to be.”
And he would play long into the night, celebrating the fact that he gets to spend Christmas with his sweet girl. No December 26th would pass without you waking up to find you had both lost your voices.
Your phone rings, rudely barging into your domestic dreams of the future. You’re tempted to ignore it, but Bradley accepts the call and brings it to your ear, leans his forehead against yours.
“Hey, Cathy,” you say.
“Is there any chance you can get the presents here sooner?” You and Bradley can both hear how harried the toy drive organizer sounds. “Sorry to even ask, you know I appreciate you, but some paperwork got messed up and —”
“Sure thing, don’t worry about it.” You break in to spare her the breath.
“Thank you,” she says. “And bring that sailor of yours, too. I might need help loading the truck.”
You laugh. “I’ll make sure to bring him along.”
“Thank you so much, sweetie. See ya soon.”
“See you soon.” You hang up your phone and toss it on the floor.
You peck Bradley on the check. “Ok, ready to put those new skills to good use?”
“Ready.” He smiles and runs his hands through your hair. “Ready to do anything for you.”
You scramble out of his lap because if he keeps looking at you like that, you definitely won’t get the presents to Cathy on time.
You turn on the TV and fetch your still-steaming coffees from the table. Quickly, you and Bradley settle into an easy wrapping rhythm, the hum of a carol floating out of your TV, accompanied by the silent promise of all your Christmases — and many wrapped presents — to come.
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summary - when Bradley finds one of his mom’s old photo albums you decide to take him back to the past
warnings - fluff
wordcount - 2.2k
a/n - I wrote this for @roosterforme's Top Gun Rocktober Event based on the song Summer Of '69 by the Bryan Adams. This was my first time writing anything for Bradley but I think I'm going to try writing for him again soon. Hope you like it! :)
“Hey, Angel?” you heard Bradley call as he closed the front door behind him. You were sat in front of the TV, cuddled up in one of your boyfriends’ big hoodies.
“In the living room,” you yelled out to him and smiled when he entered the room, walking up to you to leave a kiss on the top of your head.
Bradley plopped down on the couch besides you, still in his flight suit. “Look what Mav found in his attic last night.”
He showed you a thick blue photo album and you sat up to take it from his hands. “It was my mom’s. He thought I should have it.”
You gently put in on your lap, carefully opening the cover to find the words Nick and Carol’s Summer of ’69 written in bold block letters, small hearts and flowers doodled around the page.
“Wow, they look so young in these,” you smiled as you looked over the first couple of pages.
“I think that was the year they met. They should be sixteen,” Bradley told you, laying his head on your shoulder as you looked over the pictures.
An idea made its way into your head as you studied the polaroids of your boyfriends’ parents having milkshakes together and cheesing at the camera on their dates. With Brad’s birthday this weekend in mind, you could not wait to take a closer look at these when he was at work tomorrow.
★・・・・・・★
That Saturday Bradley woke up to you peppering kisses all over his face. He chuckled as he pushed his face into the crook of your shoulder, his arms sneaking around your waist and pulling him on top of him.
“Happy Birthday, handsome,” you whispered, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when your breath hit the skin beneath his hear. He was ready to spend the whole day cuddled up next to you in bed, when you suddenly pushed yourself up onto your arms, grinning down at him.
“Now get your ass up. We have plans,” you told him and leaned down to quickly kiss his lips before getting off the bed. “Hurry up, we leave in twenty minutes.”
Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you pulled your car to a stop next to a field. There was a small, strawberry shaped hut near the spot you had parked the car, but it looked closed.
“Before we go,” you mumbled and reached your arm into the back of the car, pulling out a wrapped present from behind your seat. “Here you go.”
You dropped the present on his lap, a beaming smile lighting up your face. Bradley gently tugged at the ends of the bow you had wrapped around it before tearing into the paper, revealing a small book and a baby blue Instax camera. He thumbed through the pages, finding them all empty. An envelope fell out of the back of the book, but you stopped him by putting a hand on his arm when he went to open it.
“Not yet. You’ll get to open that later. But take the camera.” You opened your door and got to your feet, skipping around to his side, and waiting for him. He gently placed the book and the envelope on his seat and joined you outside, taking a moment to admire you in your pretty summer dress.
You took his hand in yours, dragging him behind you towards the field, walking right past the closed stall. “Are we allowed to be here?” he questioned as he watched you reach over the counter and grabbing a basket.
“Don’t worry about it. The owners know we’re here,” you assured him. The place belonged to one of your coworkers’ parents. You had called them, and they gave you permission to come before they opened to make sure it was just the two of you.
“And what exactly are we doing here?” he asked as he followed you, watching you crouch down.
“We’re picking strawberries!” you chirped, eyes sparkling with excitement. Your hand came up to show him a berry. This was not what he had expected to be doing on his birthday, but he was not complaining. He was just happy to spend his day with you, no matter what activities you dragged him along to.
He joined you on the ground, not caring about the way the dirt stained his jeans and started looking through the bushed next to you. It did not take long until your basket was filled to the brim with the juiciest strawberries you were able to find.
Every couple of minutes you would stop to take a quick picture. By the time you decided you had collected enough, the pocket of your dress was filled with pictures of the both of you next to your now full basket.
You gave them two him when after you climbed back into the car and he shuffled through them, unable to decide which photo was his favourite. “Where to next?” he asked as you started the engine.
“You’ll see,” you replied with a smile.
★・・・・・・★
“Minigolf?” Bradley questioned when you walked up to the building. “You want to get absolutely demolished again?”
You stuck out your tongue at him. “I actually just had a bad day last time we came here. This time I’m going to beat your ass.”
“You can’t,” he fake gasped. “It’s my birthday so you have to let me win.”
“But what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t challenge you?” you joked as you walked past him towards the counter, tapping his butt.
You got the clubs and soon both of your competitive spirits made an appearance as both of you tried distracting the other when it wasn’t your turn. You ended up winning by two points, Bradley pretending to be grumpy about it as you drove him to the next location.
This was the one thing you had not managed to organize the way you wanted it. A couple of photos in the album were of his parents at baseball and football games, and you wished Mav would have given the album to Bradley sooner, so you could have gotten him some good seats for his favourite team.
Bradley wondered why you were leading him through the park towards the baseball field. He knew from experiencing that no matter how competitive you were, baseball really was not your thing. He grew even more puzzled when you pulled him down onto one of the benches overlooking the field, where he could see a bunch of kids warming up.
“Why are we watching these little kids?” he asked you, especially confused when you sent a wave towards what looked to be one of the coaches, until he recognized the man to be Bob.
“I couldn’t get tickets for the Padres last minute,” you told him with a grimace. “But I remembered Bob telling us that he coaches his nephew’s team, so I called him, and he said we could watch their game. I hope that’s okay.”
He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling him into you and kissing the side of your head. “More than okay. As long as you’re here it’s the best birthday ever.”
The game turned out to be quite fun to watch after all, and seeing Bob in his element was also entertaining to see. After the game, you hung around to talk to bob and congratulate his team on their win for a while.
Next, you took him to the arcade. You spent the rest of the evening trying to crush each other at games, eating burgers and sharing a milkshake. The stack of pictures in your pocket kept getting bigger and bigger and you were happy to see Bradley’s smile getting wider as the day went on.
★・・・・・・★
Bradley quickly realized where you were taking him next. You stopped the car in front of the hard deck, telling him to stay put as you hurried into the bar, only to come out carrying another basket moments later.
You led your boyfriend down the beach, happy to see there were not many people around this late in the day. Finally settling on a spot, you set down the basket Penny had prepared for you, pulling out a blanket. Bradley watched you shake it out and placing it on the ground.
“We’re having a picknick?” he chuckled and sat down next to you where you were pulling out two plates, a tupperware container and two capri suns.
“Mhmh,” you hummed, your hands busy arranging the items in front of you. You opened the Tupperware, revealing freshly baked Belgian waffles and set one on each of the plates. Next, you got some powdered sugar and chocolate sauce out of the basket.
Bradley watched you with a smile as you tried to spell out Happy Birthday with the chocolate, topping it off with some powdered sugar before adding some of the strawberries you had picked, placing the rest in between the plates.
Lasty, you pulled out a candle and a lighter, sticking the candle into your creation before lighting it. You lifted the plate up and held it in front of his face. “It’s time to make a wish.
Bradley closed his eyes, thinking about what his wish should be for a moment, before blowing out the candle. The two of you quickly devoured your waffles and the berries. When all of the food was gone you pushed your straw into your capri sun, tapping it against Bradley’s. “Cheers.”
He took a sip before putting it down and leaning towards you, capturing your lips with his own. He pulled away after a few moments, his thumb still cradling your cheek. Slowly, you pushed him down onto the blanket, pushing yourself up to his side and laying your head on his chest as you watched the sun set together.
“I think it’s dark enough now,” you said as you pulled away from him a while later.
“Dark enough for what?” he questioned, his hand going up to rub your back where you were hunched over the basket.
“For these,” you beamed as you turned back to him, holding out two paper lanterns. “Here this one is for you. You just fold it out like this and put the candle here.”
You showed him how to set up the lantern, pulling him up to stand next to you when they were ready. He took the lighter from you and carefully lit the candles. It only took a couple of seconds before you mentioned for him to let go of the paper frame, watching as they slowly rose up into the night.
★・・・・・・★
The bar was already super crowded when you stepped through the door after your boyfriend, but you were quickly able to spot your friends in your usual spot in the back. Natasha nudged Bob and Jake when she saw the two of you walk in.
Soon, all of your friends had noticed you arrive and as if they had planned it, all of them broke out singing happy birthday at the same time. You joined in as well as you led Bradley over to their table next to the pool table.
Your friends all came up to Bradley to give him a hug, Jake going to order a round for everybody. While Bradley was busy with the others, you set out the book and the pictures you had taken over the day on the table, pulling out the envelope as well.
“Can I open it now?” Bradley appeared next to you, sitting down, and pulling your chair closer to his as he rested a hand on your thigh. You nodded and watched as he pulled another set of pictures from the envelope. Realization grew on his face as he shuffled through them. There was one of his parents at a strawberry field, one of them watching the sunset, another one of them having milkshakes.
You opened up the second page of the book, placing the picture of them picking berries in the corner before pushing the ones you had taken today closer to him. Bradley started arranging your pictures next to the one you had copied and printed from his parents’ album. You were sticking them in the places he wanted them to.
Later that night Jake shot you a wink before sauntering over to the jukebox and you let out a laugh when the first notes of Bryan Adam’s Summer Of ’69 played throughout the room. People around you started cheering as they started singing along and Bradley grabbed your hand, pulling you up with him.
He walked backwards, leading you away from the table. By the time the chorus was playing your hands were around his neck and his arms around your waist as you danced along to the music, not really caring that your moves did not match the song at all.
“I hope you had fun today,” you said as he pulled you in closer to kiss you again.
He only broke the kiss you mutter his reply against your lips before leaning back in. “I loved every second of it.”
