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fluloa · 1 year

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BABY DADDY JAKE AND LIKE THEY HAVENT EVEN OFFICIALLY MATED FOR LIFE YET BUT HAVE A WHOLE ASS NEWBORN

why is this idea so cute to me??? i have no idea why but slay

You and Jake weren’t really a couple at the start. Sure, you had your moments. Like sometimes, he’d bring you a cute little bundle of flowers, or a new anklet and shit like that. But it was never serious, never really a relationship.

The first time he met you was during a hunting festival, with crystal beads in your hair and a mischievous glimmer in your eyes that he couldn’t help but be drawn to. He had a bit too much to drink, and it seemed as if you did too.

He walked up to you, trying to hide the intense nerve that shock his system because you were really fucking pretty. You were dancing carelessly, arms flowing out and he taps one of them, immediately cringing at the unplanned move.

You turn, the beads in your hair rattling against the base of your neck as you look up at him with curiosity.

“Hey,” he mumbles, crackling a tiny smirk that covers the immense panic he feels.

You blink, smiling a little as you look him up and down. “Hello.”

“You, uh,” Jake clears his throat. “You’re really pretty, and uh… would you wanna dance?”

God, he seems like a complete douchebag. But you like it, or seem to at least by the way your smile widens. You simply nod, turning yourself completely to him and placing the palms of your hands on his shoulders, and he watches you do it with wide eyes. He notices the way your head gently tilts, before you grab one of his hands, directing it to your hip. “You place here.”

He nods, flicking his gaze quickly to the other dancing pairs to see what they’re doing as he attempts to copy. You find it cute.

“I feel how tense your fingers are.” You comment, and his gaze snaps right back to you. His ears twitch down, airplane mode for a millisecond before they’re back up laying against his black hair.

“You can?”

“Mm,” you hum. “Relax.”

He tries to do what you say, breathing in through his chest and relaxing his hand sat against your hip but it’s hard, because he can’t help but feel the way the perky bone of your hip sticks out to his fingers and how smooth your skin is.

“Relax,” you repeat, letting a breathy giggle fall from your lips at his obvious lack of ability to do such a simple action. When his fingers finally slow and rest lazily on your skin, you smile. “For Toruk Makto, you are quite humble.”

You know completely what to do through the music, starting your hands at the base of his stomach before dragging them up to his neck and making your palms meet. “Take your hand off my hip,” you mumble. You spread your hands out across his chest, following out the length of his arms before finally meeting his hands, threading your fingers through his fingers and bringing them up and above both your heads.

You’re looking at your conjoined hands, but he’s looking at you. When you bring them down, you catch his gaze, and you’re taken slightly aback by the intensity caught in it. You slow your hands, staring at him as your mouth gently agapes.

Sprawled out on the green grass, Jake leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck as he enters you with drunken feverishly motions, groans slipping from his throat. Your legs curl around his torso, encouraging him to strive deeper into your cunt and kiss deeper at your skin. Your hands sprawl out across the map of his toned back, blunt nails catching onto his blue skin and creating tiny dinted scratches.

“Oh, my girl,” he breathes out. “Nice and warm. So— holy, so nice and warm.”

You mewl, digging your heels into the lower pinch of his back, “Jake, oh, Jake.” Your voice cracks into a edgy whine when he strengthens the pace of his cock, driving in and out of you fluently.

Breathing ragged and uneasy as you slump together, tangling in each other as you bask in the after moments of sex. Your tails curl together, wrap around each other and you sigh. Jake presses a gentle kiss at your forehead, rubbing his thumb on the fat of your thigh.

It was like that for a long time. Constant banter and flirting until you both gave in and ravaged each other, banging it out like there was no tomorrow. But you weren’t a couple, hadn’t taken it to the next step to connect your tsaheylos because why rush when you both can just be comfortable in an fun, open sex friends-with-benefits sort of deal? You were both fine with it, and there wasn’t anything that could change that.

But then came the random little pains and spikes in your belly, the nausea that sometimes grew when you ate, the increasing aching tender of your breasts.

You chew on your lip hard, praying to Eywa herself that it isn’t what you think it was.

The Tsahik tells you otherwise, and within seconds of her fingers grazing the skin over your belly, she nods. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” you rush.

“Silence, child. If you let me speak, I shall tell you.” Mo’at snaps. You nod violently, lips sealed close as you wait anxiously for her next sentence. “Eywa has blessed you with a gift,” she flats her palm on your stomach, unable to hide the gentle smile that stretches on her wrinkled face. “You are with child.”

You gulp, a mix of emotions running through you all at once. You slide your hand next to hers, feathering at your belly and feeling the soft skin there that’ll probably be decorated with stretch marks.

It’s nerv-wracking when you see Jake next, and he’s already got that giddy grin on his face as he strides to you. “Hey,” he murmurs, scooping an arm around your waist and pulling you into the warmth of his torso. He lands a sly kiss to your jawline, and you’ve got the feeling he wants to get straight into it today.

“Jake,” you say.

“Hm?” he mutters, gliding the hot of his tongue on the area just below your jawline. His fingers snake to your loincloth, toying with the lace that holds it together.

“Jake,” you repeat, voice sterner this time and that’s when he knows to back off, brow twitching up.

“What?”

“I have to tell you something,” you utter. He blinks blindly at you. “It’s serious.”

“Okay,” he returns, not without confusion wrapped in his tone. You breathe in, attempting to calm your nerves before you’re blurting it out all in one go.

“I’m pregnant, Jake. I have your baby,” you blurt. He stares at you, face unreadable and you take it as a sign to keep on rambling, but then he places a palm on your belly with his eyes set on the movement.

He lets a breathy chuckle leave his mouth, lets a grin stretch out onto his wide lips. “You do?”

You’re surprised to say the least to his reaction. “Yes—“ your sentence halts to a stop when Jake kisses you, palming a hand on your warm cheek and you sigh onto his lips.

“That’s…” he laughs again, “That’s amazing.” He looks up at you, pupils dilating. “You’re amazing.”

He grabs your face with both hands and kisses you again, this time harder. You’re being smushed from his grip and you giggle at his hyper, letting yourself melt into his warmth.

The more your belly grew, the more your actual relationship with Jake grew. It just happened. Naturally. The man’s protectiveness grew as well, even though you could never really get him to fully admit it.

Placing a hand on your belly, leaning his head to you as he tsks. “My girl, stay in rest.”

“Jake, just because I am with child does not mean I am helpless. I am still apart of this clan, and I am still able to serve it,” you fight against him, brushing his hand off of your body and reaching for your bow. He snatches the bow just as your fingers gaze the handle, and he hangs it above his head. You try swooping it out from him but he raises it higher, smirking as you huff in frustration.

“Pretty helpless right now.” He quips, unable to fight his shit-eating grin as he watches you try to reach your bow with your waving arm. You end up huffing and puffing, placing a hand on your stomach as you give up. You suddenly groan in pain, and Jake’s smug expression drops, immediately dropping his arm to place a concerned hand on your shoulder.

You snatch the bow from his now lowered arm, rushing it to hide behind you and press at your back as you laugh mischievously. Jake snaps his head to your face, frowning until he can’t help but let a small smirk break past his facade. “Not dumb, though.”

When you’re at the final trimester, you’re big, and heavy. Your feet are puffed up and your back twitches in pain every single time you move a muscle. It’s torture. And to add onto it, your self esteem is at your lowest.

Crying on Jake’s shoulder as he rubs your back with his big fingers, nose sniffly as you weep. “Ijustdon’tunderstandwhyyyy— huAp,” a loud hiccup slips from you. “IfeelsosoarallofthetiiiiiimemybreastshurtconstantlyweirdstuffcomesoutofmewhydoesEywahatemesooo…”

He gives reassuring kisses to your forehead, eyes closed with a faint, tired smile tugged on his lips as he coos, “It’s alright, my yuey.”

You certainly do not feel beautiful.

“Got that babymama glow.” Jake adds, mumbling as he gives another smooch to your forehead. He receives a defeated whimper in response, your body curling in his form as his arm wrapped around your form tightens around you.

When the baby comes, it fucking comes. You’re screaming at the top of your lungs as you clench at Jake’s hand with a bone-crushing grip. Healers swarm around you like bees, holding your legs, stomach, and every patch of your body except for your head, which Jake holds with his second hand.

Jake licks at his lips. “You’re doing great, sweetie—”

“Shut the fuck up, Jake!”

“Yep, ok.”

With one final push, the baby’s out. One of the healer’s holds the baby in her arms, a hint of a smile on her face as she hands your child into your arms. Warm tears rim around your eyes as you hold your new born baby, leaning against Jake’s body as he rubs at your back. You’re able to feel his chest tremble, and when you look up to him, there’s a tear striding down his cheek. With what energy you have, you scoop your arm around his neck, bringing his head down with your head as you give him a kiss to the cheek.

He returns it with a kiss to your forehead, yet unable to take his eyes off of his baby in your arms. “My Syaté,” you whisper lovingly. Syay meaning fate, a definition tied faintly in with blessing. Her nose sniffles and twitches, tiny eyebrows crinkling before she begins to cry. Jake can’t even seem to get care, as he holds the chubby cheek of his new babygirl and he can’t help but feel a new spring of fresh tears corrupt his face.

Jake barely leaves you and the baby. He says that he must protect his family, that it’s a bigger priority than doing anything else. But you’re not sure if that’s just a big fat excuse for him to hold her for hours. Laying in his lap, as he swipes a hand over her little head and feeling the thin, small fuzz of hair on it. With you at his side, singing to her as you stroke her cheek with a soft thumb.

The fire in front of you crackles, as the night’s cool air breezes on your backs. She coos out a gurgled giggle in reply.

Sometimes, Jake’ll just have Syaté in his arms as you fall in a much needed sleep, just staring at her face because he’s still stunned at the fact that in his arms, this is his child. It boggles him. He didn’t even think he’d ever find someone to love him, let alone carry his baby. But here you are, sleeping beside his leg peacefully and your face just looks so pretty and calm that it makes him want to cry.

Holding up his baby as the people surround him in circles, swaying side to side as you watch in awe. The new child of the people’s Olo’eyktan. Jake gently holds her up, the light from the sky shining on her small body and her legs squirming a little. “Syaté!”

“Syaté,” they repeat, echoing amongst the forest and you smile, teeth shining through your lips.

Connecting her tsaheylu to the many branches of the Tree Of Souls, connecting her to Eywa. Jake can see the way her eyes light up, can see the way her lips widen in a giggly manner.

The first time taking Syaté to have a bath in the river. Jake insists that he holds her on the way, and you grin, dashing through the forest because it’s the most freedom you’ve had in a long time.

Once getting there, you both gently get into the river, as Jake cradles Syaté in his arms. He holds her above the water until you give him the signal to lower her. The water swims at her feet, goes in between her little toes and she makes a noise at the feeling of it. He shifts his hand in a cup-like form, ripping it over his baby’s head gently. Slowly, he lowers her down into the river. You laugh gently at the way she screws up her face. “I know, babygirl. It’s a bit cold,” Jake chuckles.

She awkwardly blinks away the water that drops into her eyes, dripping at her black eyelashes and Jake wipes it away with his thumb before she could whine about it. Jake then shifts his eyes to you whisking through the stream, hair wet and following you as it flows weightless amongst the water. You end your swim in front of him, sneakily dipping your head over and blowing raspberries on Syaté’s chubby belly. She giggles immediately, the sound pure music to Jake’s ears.

Jake goes to give a million kisses to her cheek, nuzzling his nose in her skin as she ropes out rounds of uncontainable laughter. You start to laugh as well, and Jake can’t help but laugh, too.

Once back from the river, you sit in the open gap between Jake’s legs, Syaté a sleepy mess in warm your arms. She sucks at your breast with a new born baby hunger, even going as far to push a tiny hand on it to give her more. You rub at her tummy with the soft of your palm, mumbling your songcord. The fire in front of you is warm and orange, illuminating against the blue of your skin and creating a glowy atmosphere. Jake sighs through his nose, sliding a hand up and down your thigh as his legs fold under yours.

The heart beating in his chest is full, and he can’t name anywhere he would rather be. He rakes a few fingers through your hair, landing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck as contentment fills in his body, his mind brewing with the sense to protect. To protect his new-found family.

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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 years

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Ok I sent you that jealousy ask with a horny intent…but what you delivered was honestly better (and still kind of made me horny). I love dad Bradley and coach Bradley so much. The fluff was sooo good.

….And it got me thinking about their son’s conception (Bradley definitely has a pregnancy/breeding kink)

Thanks for writing!! We don’t deserve you!!

ahhh coach bradshaw! loved writing them like this, especially since they don't quite lose their spark even as parents. i maintain the fact that they would be fucking terrifying on the pta

and i am good for nothing if not subverting expectations, so yes! let's delve into the bradley x smart aleck breeding kink dynamic and gilbert henry bradshaw y/l/n's entry into the world...with a twist

warning: breeding kink, smut, child birth?? language

"Oh my GODDDD," you shrieked.

Shrieked - there was no other way to describe it. Your voice positively echoed through the maternity ward, bouncing off the linoleum floor and scaring doctors, nurses, and future grandparents alike.

It was hour thirteen - no, fourteen? - of labor and Bradley felt like his hand was about to break from the vice grip you had it in at the moment. All things considered, though, it was probably the least he could do.

The ice chips hadn't helped. Ditto with the quick walks around the room and all the back and shoulder rubs. He even offered to rub your feet despite feet freaking him out. The only other thing he'd ever heard of helping labor was sex and that didn't seem like the best idea at the moment. So, nothing - nothing helped.

"I know I will love him when he's here and all that mushy maternal bullshit, but right now I just fucking want this kid OUT OF ME!"

Your dad and step-mom chose that moment to poke their heads into your private room. "How's it going, sweetie?"

"Do you hear a baby crying yet, dad?" you snapped.

He had the decency to look apologetic and Bradley shot him a quick smile. "Sorry, we just figured we'd drop by again. Guess we'll be in the lobby with Pete, let us know if you need anything."

"Okay..." you said, way less harshly. Your dad just waved you off. "And now my dad hates me!" you wailed.

Bradley gave you a quick kiss on the head. "He doesn't hate you, sweetheart. You're going through a lot at the moment, he's just worried."

You let out a deep breath, then sucked in another, working through your latest contraction. They were just about three minutes apart and you were dilated about seven centimeters last time the nurse checked.

"My back is killing me, bubs..."

"Oh, here." Bradley rubbed your back, wishing he could do more. "The nurse said it shouldn't be too long now, alright?"

This was the transition phase, or so the book had said. You cried out during a particularly difficult contraction and flopped back against the rumpled and sweaty pillows once it was over.

"We are never doing this again, so help me god, Bradley - this is all your fault!" you grumbled.

Even amidst the circumstances - read his son's imminent birth - Bradley couldn't help but scoff. "My fault?"

You nodded, a weary expression on your face as he handed you some water. "You're the one who's always desperate to cum inside me like some fucking fourteen year old in his dad's Playboy."

"Hold up, hold up. Nah, sweetheart - you're always the one saying fuck me, Bradley. Come inside me, Bradley. Put a baby in me, Bradley -"

"- I'm being facetious!!"

He sputtered, "Facetious, sure, sure - I wanna make you a daddy, Bradley? Ring any bells?" That one normally sent him over the edge. He was one hundred percent sure he could pin down Gil's conception to the third night of your wedding anniversary trip to the Maldives...

"...Please, Bradley," you moaned in his ear, "I wanna make you a daddy."

His fingers dug into your hips, barely giving your body a moment to settle on his cock before driving it back into you. You felt so glorious around him - so pretty, so wet, so fucking tight.

"Come on sweetheart, keep talking. Let everyone here know how much of a slut you are for daddy's cock."

You took a hand off his shoulder to play with your tits and arched your back. "Ohhhh god, don't you wanna see me get all big and full when I'm bouncing on your cock? Have everybody know you made me look like this? So fucking full of your cum?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That did it. Bradley cried out your name and slammed his cock into you one final time, getting lost in the ecstasy of your cunt pulsing around him. He spilled into you, filling you to the brim.

"Thi - think that'll do it? Think that'll make me a daddy?"

You came with a cry at his words, no doubt waking up the Garcias in the villa next door. Bradley couldn't wait to see them at breakfast in the morning. 'Yeah my wife was the one keeping the resort up last night, asshole.'

Your body sagged against his and you pressed lazy kisses along his shoulder and neck. "Bra-Bradley, Bradley. Love you, Bradley, so much, bubs, so good..."

"Shhh, shhh, sweetheart. There's my good girl, took me so well. Just sit here for a bit, yeah? Don't wanna waste a drop of that cum you begged for so much. Gotta make sure everyone knows you're mine..."

...Current you shot him a look, trying to appear intimidating. But the hair plastered to your forehead with sweat and the partially unbuttoned johnny didn't really help your case. "I don't sound like that!"

"You do! And you say shit like that, too! But I love it, it's hot as fuck." This probably wasn't the place - or the time - to discuss both of your respective kinks, but that didn't stop either of you - until...

"Do not - oh, oh, shit..."

Bradley grabbed your hand. "What is it? This one feel different?" You nodded. "Let me call for the doctor, okay?"

He sat up to leave your bedside, but was stopped by your hand pulling at his pant leg. "Bra-Bradley?"

"Yeah?" He stopped.

"I love you," you said before letting out a deep breath.

He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. "I love you, too, sweetheart. Now let me go get the doctor so we can have this kid, alright?"

Twenty minutes later, Gilbert Mitchell Bradshaw was born.

And despite your earlier protestations, Margaret Amelia Bradshaw was born six years later.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley and smart aleck #top gun #asks #they go to the st regis maldives for their anniversary if you're wondering #just to give a visual you know??? 👀👀#bradley bradshaw full on dilf after doing the age break down on these kids ie. 40 and 46 respectively...#i gave gil a fucking stupid name that i'm oddly attached to now so figured any future ones should be relatively normal #writing #bradley fic

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