#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

valhallaas · 1 year

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That’s My Girl

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x sunshine!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni) vaginal fingering, p in v, cream pie (wrap it up, pals) jake stirring the pot like the shithead he is

summary: when everyone but rooster sees it, there’s always a texan willing to step up to the plate.

a/n: not me cackling while writing this like some crazed woman. ya’ll can blame @glen-powells for this. the text messages can prove it.

Part 2

Part 3

It surprises you every time you come back to the Hard Deck how it hasn’t changed. At least the atmosphere. Civilians and aviators alike. Penny grins at you when you walk in. Elbowing your way through the crowd, you take a seat at the bar, leaning far enough over to let her kiss you on the cheek. Her and your mom had been best friends. Penny’s known you since you were in diapers, helped your mom through the divorce, and helped you when she passed away. You always did your best to come visit her when you could. You’re on leave for the next two months and you aren’t wasting it anywhere else but here.

“Long time no see.” Penny says as she grabs you a drink.

You only grin. “You’ll be seeing so much of me, you’ll be sick of me.”

“Is free labor included in that?”

“Always.” A two toned whistle catches your attention. Turning to look behind you, you sigh at the sight. Holy shit. They’re all here. Your eyes narrow at the blonde, his grin widening when he catches you staring. “Maybe not tonight, Pen.”

Penny shakes her head. “I didn’t think so. Go on, then.”

Throwing her a grateful smile, you’re up and heading towards the pool table. It’s a reunion, no doubt. You’d been overseas the last few months. Seeing everyone here is a blessing. You can’t help the splitting grin on your face when Bob wraps you up right in his arms. How the two of you hit it off, you’ll never know, but you aren’t complaining.

“Look who it is, folks. Our Sunny girl. Did ya’ll see it get brighter in here when she walked in?”

Your eyes roll so far into the back of your head you’re surprised they don’t get stuck. Turning, you come face to face with the blonde who’d called for your attention.

“Hangman,”

He pulls the toothpick out of his mouth and winks. “Sunshine.”

“What’s got y’all here?”

“You.” Phoenix answers, standing from where she knocked two solids in at the pool table.

You turn to look back at the bar. Penny’s already looking at you with a smirk. What a little sneak. You should’ve known she let you go too easily. Shaking your head you step forward and snag the pool stick from Hangman. He smirks, but doesn’t say anything. You quirk an eyebrow. Lieutenant Jake Seresin keeping his mouth shut? It’s a goddamn miracle. His eyes never leave you as the game finishes. Phoenix grumbles at her loss, you were three shots behind when you started. It’s not your fault that you’re good, that you’re very good. Handing the stick off to Bob, your eyes scan the bar. It’s been almost thirty minutes since you got here. It’s a Saturday night and the bar is busy.

No Hawaiian shirt in sight. No porn mustache spotted anywhere. Your shoulders deflate. If everyone else is here, why isn’t he?

“Who you looking for, Sunshine?”

You glance sideways. “Wouldn’t like to know.”

Jake only grins. “Your bird boy ain’t here yet. Had a meeting with Maverick, I believe.”

Fucking Christ. Are you really that hopeless when it comes to him? So exposed that even Bagman can tell that your head over heels for Rooster? It’s not like it’s your fault. If you had it your way, you’d be happy with your own company. But the heart wants what the heart wants.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. Because as much as you pine for him, Bradshaw is a dumbass.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t noticed, Sunny. You’re still that kid from down the road. You need to do something to make him see you.”

The thought has crossed your mind. You’ve known Bradley so long that he probably didn’t think of you that way. Your teeth bite into your cheek, hands fiddling with the hem of your dress. You don’t miss the way Hangman’s eyes take you in. His gaze lingering on your bare thighs. You huff out a small laugh, pulling his attention back to your face.

You and Jake have a weird relationship. He annoys you to no end but you trust him with your life. Pretty sure you’re the only one in the bar that does. Jake’s been protective of you since you met at Top Gun. A relationship without the relationship, you suppose.

“Can always stir the pot,”

You blink. “What?”

“Make him jealous, Sunny.” A snort escapes you and you slap a hand over your mouth. Jake’s smile is wide, his head falling back with a deep chuckle. “Oh, Sunny girl.”

“I have no one to make him jealous. Even if I did, that’s a stupid idea. What am I, in eighth grade?”

“Honey, look at who you’re talking to.”

Green eyes devour you when you look up at him. He is right. No one gets under Rooster’s skin more than Hangman. You bite your lip, unsure. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But there’s a fire in Hangman’s eyes, like he’s got a point to prove. Playing with the hem of your dress, you scrape the toe of your shoe against the floor. Fuck it, really, what do you have to lose?

“What are we going to do, exactly?”

Jake raises his hand, cupping the side of your face. His thumb lightly drags over your bottom lip before pulling it down. He pulls it away and looks down at the faintly smeared mauve color now on the pad. He lifts it up to his mouth and rubs it in.

“What are you doing?”

His lips tilt into a knowing smirk. “Teasin’.”

He’s going to get you in trouble. Lifting a hand to your own mouth, it’s smacked lightly. Sharp eyes glare at him.

“Go pick out a song. Let’s dance.”

“Dance?”

“Yeah, Sunshine, dance. Now go, and pick out a good one.”

You roll your eyes but do as you're told. Eyes follow you the whole way to the jukebox. You lean over, just a bit, the bottom of your dress rising up to tease. Was that why you wore it? Maybe. You wouldn’t tell. Flipping through the songs, you pause a few pages back, a knowing smile taking over your face. Putting the money in, you twirl back to face Jake. When the song starts playing he laughs.

“Honey, you are playing dirty.”

“You started it.”

“Well, you do have your boots on.” He says toeing your Ariats.

“Come on, Texas. Show me how to boogie.”

“You are asking for trouble.”

An eyebrow raises. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Jake doesn’t say anything else. His hand grabs for yours, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly to him. You can’t help but gasp when his thigh slots between yours. Tightening your grip on his shoulder, he twirls you both out and makes room to have a dance floor. The other patrons cheer while watching. A few cat calls thrown your way. A carefree laugh makes its way from you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this way. It’s silly, really. To think that teasing a grown ass man made you feel this way.

“Just a heads up, Sunny girl, Bradshaw’s been watching since you went to pick out the song.” Your heart drops. What now? You go to turn your head, to try to find him, anything, really, but are stopped short. Jake slides his hand into your hair keeping you still. “Stop. You’re going to ruin it. I can see his fucking vein bulging from here.”

This is a good thing, right? This is what you wanted? His attention? Jake knows what he’s doing. He’s never led you astray before. Hopefully he won't start now. Jake lets you go, hanging you out with one hand before twirling you around. You’re facing away from him now, and you come face to face with Rooster. You inhale sharply, the smell of him overwhelming you.

“What’s going on here?” He asks, no preamble.

“We’re dancing, I know you have eyes, Bradshaw.”

Bradley looks from Hangman down at you. Head to toe his eyes blaze over you. A fire touching your skin. Licking at the top of your exposed breasts and down your thighs. You can see his lips twitch. The man knows you. His hand reaches out, pinches the fabric of the dress, rolling it between his fingers. It’s his favorite color, and by the look in his eyes you know he knows you wore it just for him.

“Hey Sunshine.”

“Hi Rooster.”

“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

You frown. Opening your mouth to talk, you’re promptly cut off. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Rooster shrugs. You follow after him to the table where all your friends are. Most of them try their hardest to look as if they aren’t watching this scene play out like a movie. You jump up to sit on the table, grabbing your drink and taking a sip. You hand Hangman his beer, his glare still on the man beside you. Neither of them say anything for a long time. They just stare, having a silent conversation that you don’t know how to decipher.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for Bagman, Sunshine.” Rooster finally says.

You snort, ignoring Jake’s smirk. “He wishes.”

“That why your lipstick is on his mouth?”

“Who’s mouth should it be on? Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” Jesus Christ, he’s trying to get you into fucking trouble. Widened eyes look at Jake, his face more stoic than you’ve ever seen it.

“What does that mean?”

Hangman huffs, taking a pull from his beer. “All I’m saying Bradshaw, is that you’ve got a hell of a woman hanging off every word you say. Waiting on you to finally do something. So, you better fuck her before I do.”

Did he know you could hear him? You’re sitting like two feet away. Neither of the men back were backing down and it’s making your anxiety spike. They’ve always been at each other's throats. You’re not sure when their little feud became about you.

“Did she say that?”

“Say what?”

“Did Sunshine say that she wanted you to fuck her?”

There was no hiding the smugness in Bradley’s tone. Hook, line, and sinker. A muscle twitches in Jake’s jaw from how hard he’s clenching his teeth. Suddenly, he glances over at you and you know you must look like a deer caught in headlights. He sighs but it doesn’t sound like one of defeat. More like he’s losing his patience.

He steps towards you, thumb trailing over your bottom lip. “If it doesn't work out with him, Sunny. You know where to find me.”

Hangman turns without looking at either of you again and makes for the jukebox. Your lips quirk up when you recognize the song.

***

The sound of the door closing is your only warning. Hazel eyes meet yours in the mirror as you roll your neck. Your body relaxes when you feel him press up against your back. He’s so warm it sends chills running down your spine. The bathroom isn’t all that big. Bradley stands behind you, invading your space and swallowing it whole. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. It’s easy to see that Hangman’s words have gotten under your skin. Your heart thunders in your chest at what’s going to happen next. A small prayer is sent off that Penny never finds out.

“You look good, flower.”

You smile at the nickname. “Thanks. It’s always fun when you can dress up in civvy clothes.”

He huffs. “The dress is really something,”

You grin at him through the mirror and you see Adam’s apple bob, hazel eyes fixated on your lips. You swallow, your throat thick. Tearing your gaze from his, you smooth your hands down the soft material, fingers playing with the hem of it. You took a chance with it, and you’re grateful it’s working out in your favor.

The tension is thick and heady. It clings to your skin, his callouses catch on your skin, gluing themselves to you. The music from the jukebox beats against the bathroom door, it’s the only thing accompanied by your heavy breathing. Your eyes shut when his hand pulls your hair to rest over one shoulder. A light yank of your hair has them snapping open. You meet his eyes in the mirror. One eyebrow quirks up at you. With a shaky breath you nod. Bradley leans in, lips lightly brushing against the expanse of your neck. His gaze rests on the soft spot right next to where it connects to your shoulder. You tilt your neck not only to give him more access, but permission too. Your lips tilt at the groan he lets out before his lips are on you.

Slowly his hands pull your sleeves down your arms. Goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. It makes you feel a little vulnerable. But then Bradley pushes himself even closer. He’s got his Hawaiian shirt on, jeans, and his boots. You can feel him breathing, his chest warming your back. It’s when he pushes his hips against you—you can feel him. All of him. A whimper escapes you and you see him grin in the mirror.

A hand trails down your side while the other moves to your chest. Your head falls back when a nipple is taken between his calloused fingers. You’ve only dreamt of what his hands would feel like. Your imagination didn’t do him justice. The heat coming from him is intoxicating. You’ve been so caught up in him that you haven’t realized a hand has been slipping down, down down. Fingers toiling with your dress, pushing the skirt up slowly. A hum rumbles from him when his fingers finally find your core, slipping between your folds. You’re completely soaked. You’ve been this way since he appeared right in front of you. Your breath locks in your throat when he slips a digit in.

“Christ,” he mutters, voice thick like honey. “No panties, flower?”

You whine, you can’t help it. You push your hips back into him, arching your back. His voice, the accusation in his tone. You knew what you were doing when you left your house. Maybe he’d come home with you, fucking you good and proper in your bed. Not pressed up against the sink of the Hard Deck. Bradley pulls his finger out only to push it back in with another. He does this, warming up your body, until you’re moaning, your own hand wrapped around his wrist and guiding him. You can’t stop your hips from grounding down on his hand. Desire has taken over. Bradley has left your nipple, hand now wrapped around your throat, holding you hostage to watch yourself in the mirror. He grunts when you clench around his fingers. You’re close, so close.

“Bradley,” you whine, fingers digging into his arm.

“I know, flower. You want it real bad, don’t you? Let me feel it. Let me feel you gush all over my hand sweet girl. Would you like that?”

You’re going to come off his words alone. A moan falling from your lips as the pressure tightens. It’s only moments later when the band snaps, hot liquid flooding throughout your body. Your head falls back against his chest, another moan filling the small space.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.”

You can feel him moving behind you. The distinct clinking of his belt being undone. Your whole body grows hotter in anticipation. Searing heat hits you, a hand stroking himself while the other is spreading you open. Heat pulses between your legs. There’s no doubt that he’ll split you wide open. After what you just pulled with Jake, you’d be surprised if he was forgiving at all. It’s a little fucked up, but it warms your belly all the same. Lifting your head, you gasp when his eyes meet yours. Bradley’s pupils are blown, lust and primal desire have taken over. His lips pink and full, he bends down and kisses right between your shoulder blades. Traveling up your spine, over your shoulder, he digs his teeth in where it meets your neck. You don’t miss his smirk when you moan.

He slides a hand across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. A hand clamps down around your mouth, muffling the scream trying to break free. He’s big, so fucking big. He’s filling you up like never before. It hurts, a pain that you will never get enough of. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, lazy thrust. Bradley slides a hand along your spine, up the back of your neck and into your hair, your breath catches as he pulls your head up and you’re meeting his gaze in the mirror. He’s watching you come undone around him. Each stroke pulling more and more pleasure. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers.

“Flower,” he grits, hand tightening in your hair, “you feel so fucking good.”

You stare back at him, feet spreading wider to let as much of him in as you can. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. Little secrets that litter your skin. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is pressed against the mirror just to keep you balanced. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Neither of you are too worried about the sounds escaping you now.

“Bradley, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that spongy spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it approaching, your orgasm is going to come crashing down and you’re ready to bask in it. Your face lifts up, like a sunflower searching for the sun.

“Flower? Are you going to come for me again? Are you going to let me feel you come around my cock?”

“Yes! Yes, I–Rooster, fuck,”

You come on his cock like a tidal wave, and when you collapse against the counter, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Bradley groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you.

“Good girl,” he praises, wiping the sweat off the back of your neck. “Good fuckin’ girl. That’s my good girl.”

The jukebox is still blaring when you exit the bathroom. Slowly you make your way back to where your friends are. Ignoring all of their knowing stares you reach for your drink and down it. When Bradley finally makes his appearance beside you, a possessive arm thrown over your shoulders and a quick kiss to the crown of your head. Hangman’s watching the both of you, a knowing look in his eye.

“So, Bradshaw, how was she?”

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stargazing15 · 1 year

Text

Now that we meet again

Bradley Bradshaw x you

Summary: For five summers you were Bradley’s summer love (aka each others first love), until he joined the Navy. What would happen when you two stumble unto each other at the Hard Deck 15 years later?

Warning: no use of y/n, mention of alcohol consumption, teasing, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex, adult banter. Minors DNI 18+

A/N: saw this post from @roostersforevergirl and got the idea. This is long, whoops, I am not sorry at all

Enjoy! ❤️

You had to blink twice, after your initial thoughts got confirmed by hearing the name.

“Bradshaw, you gonna take the shot or what?” Bradley had noticed you too and started to make his way over, after shoving the pool cue in the blond haired man’s hands.

“It is really you. Wow, long has it been? You look good, no, you look fucking great Bubbles.”

“About 15 years I guess. B, you aged well too. Where did that cute babyface go?” The hug was more than welcome. “God I missed you.” As you were about to tickle him, you weren’t feeling the soft belly under your fingers that you were used to feel, but rock hard yummy abs.

“Liking what you feel?” Oh Jesus that smirk combined with those puppy eyes, he still knew how to get to you. Definitely no alcohol tonight as you wanted to make sure to remember every single second clearly.

“Hell yeah, the scruff too. These muscles and the fact you didn't coming back during the next summers, does that mean you did it?”

“Yup, Lieutenant Bradshaw at your service.” He said after taking a sip of his beer, of course letting a droplet beer escape and drip down his lip, to his chin, down his neck, okay, you were a goner already.

“Hmm, you know I like men in a uniform, care to introduce me to those hunks over there? Seems my colleagues already ditched me.” He smirked at your first remark.

“One sec Bubbles, just so I know I wouldn’t cross a line. Since I don’t see a ring, any boyfriend I need to watch out for?” He actually was right to ask that as you were about to flirt shamelessly with each other for the rest of the evening.

“Nope, still waiting for you B,” you teased. “And on your side? So my eyes wouldn’t get scratched out.”

“Same, I was searching for you. Let me introduce to that bunch of idiots I call friends.”

“Bradshaw, since you brought the lovely lady over, apology accepted. Hangman is the name, but you can call me Jake.” The blonde one winked.

“Hangman, stuck in kindergarten?” He had never expected that answer from you while displaying your cutest face.

“Callsign darling. Please don’t tell me you’re his sister or something?”

“Ew no.”

“Bagman shut it.” Bradley introduced you to the group and vice versa.

“B, you have a callsign too?” Everyone told you theirs, but Bradley stayed awfully quiet next to you.

“He hasn’t told you yet? It’s one close to his father’s, to honor him and he's always the first one up, Rooster.” You choked on the water you were trying to drink. They all knew now with certainty, that was not the complete story behind his callsign.

“You’ve got to be shitting me B.”

“Darlin, you know the real story?” The blonde one asked you. You looked with a little mischievous smile at Bradley. Trying to warn you, Bradley signalled you with his eyes.

“Oh come on B, don’t give me that look, don’t they deserve to know?”

“Bubbles, pretty please?” And like that puppy eyes appeared again, but you were enjoying this way too much knowing his mind and dick were about take a little trip down memory lane.

“Wait, you’re THE Bubbles?” Natasha, the only girl in the group you learned, asked you/ screamed for the whole group. “Tell me ALL the juice. But you can start with his callsign.”

“I’m gonna get a drink before I die from embarrassment.” Bradley excused himself from the group. Just to stand at the bar a couple of feet further, still able to hear everything.

“Okay, one evening, we had a couple of drinks, he was telling me about his father’s job and about callsigns. I knew about his desire to become an aviator. So we were trying to find one fitting for him. And Bradley with his big dick energy, do I need to tell more?”

“Oh my god, you two fucked?” Mickey as you remembered right, shouted.

“Bubbles, it was your favourite hobby during the summers as I remember right?” If he wasn’t shameless anymore, you were definitely not going to hold back anymore.

“Oh B, you know I love your massive dick.” The group was in awe on your reaction.

“S-so, how did you get your nickname, Bubbles?” The most innocent one of the group asked you, trying to chance the subject. He did not know, you were about to corrupt him further.

“Lost a bet and got Bubbles tatted on my butt, I always liked her.” You immediately noticed Jake eying your butt, as if he could see through your jeans. “Wanna see cowboy?”

“Hell yeah darlin.”

“Oh hell no, over my dead dick, uh body.” Bradley took a sip of his glass from embarrassment. You went closer to Bradley and stood in front of him, blocking the view from the others.

“Don’t tell me you already jerked off in the bathroom?” You whispered in Bradley’s ear while slowly letting your fingers trace down from his abs to your favourite merchandise in his pants and of course giving it a soft squeeze, making Bradley grunt.

“Well, your fault for looking this good.” After your little stunt he placed one leg between yours, letting his thigh touch with your clothed core, making you wanted to grind on him already. The moment your pelvis shifted a little to feel some friction, he removed his leg and joined Bob and Micky on the other side of the pool table, leaving you behind already hot and bothered. "Dickhead." You growled

“So, tell me more about younger Bradley, sorry, but we are in desperate need of blackmail material.” You were joined by Natasha and Rueben, after Bradley ditched you.

“Ooooh, I still have pictures on my phone, I think they’re somewhere in my cloud. One sec.” You kept your pictures together always close, let’s be honest, because he was and still is the love of your life. Only for five summers you got to call him yours.

Your face lit up the moment you found the pictures you were looking for. “Here, this was I think 16 years ago. And here, this one, from our last summer. This babyface is the same Bradley as the one standing over there.”

“I never imagined him being a little, chubby? But good chubby. You know he talked about you when we were deployed? When we are deployed, we all get sappy.”

“He was the cutest, too sad we lived so far away from each other during the rest of the year back then. What did he say about me?”

“It was always, back then Bubbles this and Bubbles that. And I don’t know if I should say this, but he referred to you as the one who got away. You were not just his first love, also the love of his life.”

“Nat is right. He was never able to keep a girlfriend, there was clearly always someone else on his mind.”

“Guys, I just met you and you two seriously trying to make me cry?”

***

“Rooster, man, you two are too obvious.” Mickey patted on his back.

“She’s ... really hot, I knoooow.” Bradley slurred.

“How many did you have already? You’re drunk and dumb. You two are so in love with each other. You realize that right?”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Come on, Rooster, this was your chance, why did you fuck it up by getting drunk?” Bob tried to make him aware of his mistake. Bob signalled you to come over with a sad expression.

“I’m so sorry your reunion night has to end like this, but he’s too drunk to keep him here, it’s been years since he’s been this drunk. I'm so sorry he's like that."

“You don’t have to apologize for his actions Bob, you are too kind. Can you help me with his address, I’ll drive his car, I came by cab.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, no one else but him can drive his Bronco.”

“He still has that thing? Don’t worry, I’ve driven it before. Ain’t that right B? I helped a bit with fixing it back in the days.”

“What? My Bronco gets to touch you first, I’m mad at her.” Bradley drunkenly grumbled.

“Jesus B, shut up before you’re about to embarrass yourself further.”

“Can you handle him on your own darlin?”Jake asked, coming out of nowhere.

“Not my first ride with drunken Bradley. It was nice meeting you all. Probably till a next time!”

After they helped you with loading Bradley in his Bronco and typing in the address, you were finally alone with him. Alone, with drunk Bradley, or so you thought.

“This was not how I imagined our reunion would end B.” You mumbled quietly. Not wanting a quiet ride, you put on one of cassettes you found on the dashboard. “Still the same music? Not much has changed apart from your appearance B.” Bradley hummed in response.

“Almost there, just don’t get sick and puke in your own car.”

“Never.” He sat up, stretched himself and suddenly did not look and sounded drunk at all.

“What the fucking hell! Dipshit, we left your friends because of you, they were all so nice.” You smacked the back of his head, making Bradley hiss in return.

“Eyes on the road Bubbles.”

“But what the fuck B, why this stunt? What were you drinking all night? You’re an idiot!” You were done raging by now.

“Feeling better?” You nodded as you parked his Bronco. “Penny, the nice bartender, she’s a good friend of us, she asked about you. And then noticed that you were having a nice time with the group. I might have said something about how always took care of me when I had a little too much to drink and she might have helped me with giving me apple juice.”

“Oh my god, you want me all for yourself. You didn't hear this but I love selfish Bradley. Come on, lead the way.”

Bradley’s house was unexpectedly … cute and cosy. “B, I love this place.” Oh god, he sneaked up behind you, just like the old days. His scent has changed, this was better, more manly, even more intoxicating than it ever was. His hands now on you waist, re-exploring the form of your body, his lips already planting kisses on your neck. The outline of his hardened dick already noticeable on your back.

Bradley hurriedly turned you around and pressed your back against the wall, taking your face in his big hands. His nose was touching yours as he was staring in your eyes.

“I missed you so much.” Before you got the chance to say anything back, his lips were on yours, his tongue immediately demanding entrance. Your arms sneaked around his head, occasionally gripping on his locks. You both got flashback to those hot summer nights, making out in one of your bedrooms. Those memories and your bodies being pressed together made you moan, loud.

Bradley heard you and let go of the kiss, only to start attacking your jaw and neck with needy, wet kisses while hurriedly trying to discard your blouse, but he was stuck somewhere. You placed your small hands on his big ones to make him stop destroying your clothes.

“B, stop, take a breath.” He looked so lost at your words, eyes still blown with lust. He was doubting himself on the inside. Was he wrong to think you wanted this too? You two were flirting non stop with each other the whole evening. And when he kissed you, you definitely kissed back, he was sure you were enjoying it a lot.

You placed your finger on his lips and let your other hand that was still on top of his, slide in his hand. Slowly you guided him to his sofa while walking backwards, not breaking eye contact. Once Bradley was seated, your finger let go of his lips. “You really look cute confused B.”

“But I am Bubbles, I thought that you l-”

“Stop thinking and start feeling.” You seated yourself on his lap facing him and placed his hand on your heart and so did you with your hand on his heart. “Let’s do this again.” This kiss was not hurried, it was slow and tender. You and Bradley had kissed a lot in the past, and was passionate many times, but never like this. Every kiss, every touch, every time you and Bradley fucked were burned in your memory. Your heart had never be able to let go of him and tonight you were going to let him know. When you broke off the kiss to catch your breath, you noticed how wet you got from just kissing him. Yes, you wanted him to take you here and now, but you had waited so many years for this, so this moment had to be the most memorable one.

“But I don’t want you to leave after tonight Bubbles, I’ve been so dumb for not coming back or searching harder for you after not coming back-“

“You really only think with that big dick of yours? Have you not listened tonight?” Bradley shot you the same confused look as earlier, but with a slight smirk at the mention of his dick. “I” kiss “was” kiss “at” kiss “the” kiss “bar” kiss “with” kiss “colleagues” kiss, you tried to deepen the kiss, but Bradley backed his head and kept looking at you confused.

“Colleagues? Work?” You hoped those words would start to make sense.

“I really am not getting it Bubbles.”

“Jesus B, you are stationed here right?”

“Yes, permanently.”

“I work in the city. I live here too B, since 10 months and I am staying here, permanenly.”

“Oh”

“I’m not going anywhere B.”

“Never going to let go of you again.” He lifted you up with him and walked with you clinging onto him to his bedroom. “You are not allowed to leave this house for the next two days.”

“Uh, underwear?”

“If I remember right, you look good in mine, but I doubt you will wear anything during those two days. Because we,” he threw you on his bed, “are going to make up for all the time we lost.”

Bradley still being the big tease he is, slowly got out of his shirt and tossed it somewhere on the ground. Your mouth fell open at the sight in front of you, you had already felt it, but seeing him being this ripped, looking at you with his sinful eyes and sweet jesus that massive stick visible in his jeans, you were officially done for any other man.

Bradley crawled on top of you, opening your blouse button by button and kissing the newly exposed skin before opening the next button. When the last one was opened you helped him get rid of your blouse. Next he opened the button and zipper of your pants, letting it slowly lower on your legs. “Have you got any idea how beautiful you are? You’re so fucking perfect.”

Bradley returned to pepper kisses all over your body while his hands roamed over the rest of your body. He made this moment feel so intimate and perfect. When he was satisfied with his kisses on you, he turned his attention to your boobs, letting his fingers trace over the lace covering them. “As much as I like it, I think I might like more what’s underneath it, can I?”

“Please B, your lips feel so good on me.” He didn’t need to be told twice to remove your bra and toss on the other side of the room. He started to kiss each boob first before turning his attention to your nipples. He skilfully took one bud in his mouth and let his tongue make love to it, the sensation going straight to your already dripping core. He had only just begun and you were already a moaning mess under him.

Bradley sat up after taking care of your other nipple too, admiring your needy look under him. You never used to like this quiet moments, but with Bradley, he made you feel like a goddess.

After contemplating for a minute what to do first, Bradley decided something was missing on you and he went back to kissing your neck and collarbone again. His kisses weren’t going to give him the result he wanted so he started sucking your skin in between kisses right under your collarbone to leave a mark he will be able to admire the rest of the weekend.

“B, please … something.” you moaned under his touch and kisses.

“Enlighten me Bubbles.”

“Your mouth, on me, lower, ooh.” He yanked your panties off, your sweet moans were now making it impossible for him to keep up the slower pace he was trying to maintain.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me babe. So, so perfect, all for me.” He settled himself comfortably between your thighs, letting his hot breath ghost over your wetness. After a needy whine escaped over your lips, he stopped admiring you and kitten licked your slit first and your clit a couple of times. He let his tongue explore what you liked and found a good rhythm softly circling your clit, making the heat inside your body rise more and more, getting you closer to your pending orgasm. Deciding not to let wait any longer for your high, Bradley gently inserted two fingers in your needy core. He moaned when your walls already started to clench around his fingers. You were so lost in the trance Bradley had put you in, that you couldn’t hold anything back anymore. You started to buck your hips a little to make his fingers hit the spot that made you see stars immediately. The little movement of your hips added more pressure from Bradley’s tongue on your clit, what made you scream out his name. As soon as he increased the speed of his fingers in combination with the circling motion of his tongue on your clit, you felt the heat building up in your belly reach its high and the muscles in your butt and abdomen tense. And then, it all exploded, your insides squeezed the hell out of Bradley’s fingers, a firework went off in your belly and your mind was on the fluffiest cloud possible.

Bradley pricked your wonderful bubble open by starting to kiss the Bubbles tattoo on your butt. "Missed you beautiful girl. Only you." Good thing his obnoxious smirk betrayed his intentions.

“You dick.”

“Hear that buddy, she loves you.” He said to his proudly erected dick.

You put up your biggest eyes and a pouty face "You want me to lick your lollipop B?" You licked your lips in the process.

"Oh yes please."

Your expression changed to an apologetic one "Too bad I'm not in the mood for a lollipop, I think you only look good between my thighs." You took his dick in your hands and teased him by pumping in an extreme slow motion. He threw his head back when he felt your hands on him and groaning at your slow speed. "You only get to enjoy when you're inside me" you winked, "punishment for not searching for me harder."

"Fuck Bubbles, come here." He closed the gap between you with a sloppy kiss. His hands back on your boobs as soon as you laid on your back. Maybe your heads hitting each other for a second when you landed on the bed. You couldn't hold back a little laugh as Bradley was still clumsy when he wanted to hurry something.

"Remember we have time B, no hurry or one of us might get injured." You joked with a little mischievous smile. "But I've got to admit can't wait to have you inside me."

"Fuck Bubbles. Got mouthy over the years. I like that." He moaned in between kisses. He started to lower his kisses to your neck, to your boobs and eventually to your stomach while gripping your thighs with his wonderful hand throughout his kissing-spree.

"God, B. The scruff feels wonderful, thought the Navy wouldn't allow that." It did tickle your stomach lightly.

"Unfortunately not, thought to try it on my time off. Will keep my stache. That will never disappear. Do you want me to grab a-" He said while signalling to his top drawer of his night stand.

"Maybe, yeah, I think I'm clean, I always have been careful, but I don't want to risk, you know for the Navy. Sorry for being a little party pooper. Going to make an appointment first thing in the morning." During your sudden rambling Bradley had already taken a condom and torn the package open with his teeth. He rolled it over his very erected dick and started to position himself in front of your entrance, until he noticed you suddenly changing attitude.

"Don't go all shy on me now Bubbles."

"It's not that, might sound weird, but I just got this nostalgic feeling. I wanted to cherish it for a moment."

"Good, but we're going to make it better." He positioned himself in front of your entrance and slowly pushed his cock inside you.

"F-fuck B, so big, easy p-please." You panted, trying to adjust to his size, a small tear appeared on the brim of the eyes.

"Had any decent dick after me?" He started to play with your boobs again to make the adjustment somewhat easier.

"Fuck no, your lovestick is the best." One thing your learned during the years you and Bradley fucked: praise his big dick, the more you fuel his ego, the lovelier it gets for you.

Your remark unleashed his ego and he accidentally bucked his hips, making you moan loud in the process. "Shit sorry Bubbles."

"Keep going, fuck it feels so wonderful. Oh." You didn't mean to, but the sounds escaping your mouth sounded like a needy little bitch. That was the effect Bradley had on you, make you loose complete control.

Bradley started to thrust, deep and slow thrusts. Only grunts and moans were escaping your mouths, even Bradley managed to keep his dirty mouth shut. All because you were both enjoying this way too much. For the first time in your history with Bradley, he was making love to you. If he had done it like this the last time 15 years ago, he would have probably snuck you into his bag when joining the Navy.

His thrusts were still slow and deep, but he managed to go a little harder the second he managed to hit your spot. You were getting close again, very close. You moaning his name over and over again as you were meeting his thrusts while bucking your hips slightly.

"Close too Bubbles, fuck, you're so, ah, so good. Let go." And you did exactly as he asked, he sped up lightly and made your orgasm hit you like a truck. Just like that, your body fell limp due to to intense contraction of all of your muscles. It felt weird this intense, yet so wonderful. Seconds after you Bradley came too, screaming your name, not Bubbles. Hearing your name roll over his lips like that, damn. You were still in a haze from your own orgasm, but hearing was as icing on the cake. Life was perfect now.

Two minutes had passed and you were both still laying knocked fucked out on the bed, your hands had found each other and intertwined. "Wow, I always thought they exaggerated in movies after the mind blowing sex that we never get to see. But now I understand. I'll be right back." Bradley took the condom he had removed after collapsing on the bed and came back a bit later with a warm washcloth to take care of you.

"Thanks B, I don't think I am able to walk for a bit." You smiled shyly.

"That good huh?" He joined you again on the bed, giving you your panties and one of his his large shirts after getting in his boxers. He kissed you softly before laying down in front of you, so you could stare at another.

"Hmm, let me think, did I have better? Oh maybe that one ... nah, oh bit a couple years ago, he was good .. but nah. Oooh fifteen years ago, that guy was something. Oh wait. Just kidding B, you have always been the best for me and this was the best yet. No one has made me cum with his dick only."

"I love you." Bradley blurted out, he was shocked at his own words. He was planning on telling them, just not yet. He wanted to bring up some good memories first, talk a bit, cuddle, spoil you, maybe make you confess first. But the words were out before he knew it.

You moved closer to Bradley and laid one hand on his cheek while planting your lips on his. "I love you too B, always have."

A little tear appeared in his the corner of his eyes. "B, are you crying? Is something wrong?"

He quickly wiped away the tear and smiled. "Fuck no, everything is alright, even more than alright. Hearing those words, I can get used to hearing them .

"Bradley, I love you too. I love you. I love you. I love you." And you ended your mantra with a peck on his lips.

"Hmm, in for a treat sweetheart? Spoiling me like that." Bradley already disappeared under the sheets, holding your hips down, ready to go down on you again. This was going to be the most memorable weekend of your life and finally the start of Bradley and you.

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster smut #top gun: maverick #tgm #top gun fanfic

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saltsicklover · 8 months

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Slamming Doors - BRB - Broken House

This was written as a oneshot but I have an idea on how to expand the story if there is interest for it! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!

Title: Slamming Doors

Series: Broken House

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, sick parent, car crash, pet names, lots of crying, lots of yelling, ANGST, misunderstandings.

Doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard.

Honey like to think it's always better to be on the in swing of the door, rather than on the out swing.

If she is on the in swing, Bradley would be storming in. It is like this often, the picture frame hung next to the door perpetually crooked from how often that damn front door is slammed. The corners of that frame are even chipped from the time or two it hit the tile floor.

At least, if he is coming home, she has a chance to calm him down. To take his face in her hands and comfort the man she loves. To kiss his lips and agree that the Captain is a dumbass who doesn't have a damn clue about how to do his job. She is always there to comfort him, to take the weight of the day off of his shoulders when things have been bad.

Hell, it isn't even always bad. Sometimes, maybe more often than sometimes, Hangman or Phoenix would be toting Bradley in, his arm held tightly over their shoulder, and he would drunkenly kick the door shut, the front of the house rattling with the abrupt closure. He would slur his words and hiccup, but always be happy to leave his friend's arms the moment he spots her.

It is different now, though.

Now, Honey is on the out swing. Bradley has her walking out after a fight, too heated to work it out.

The front door slams again, the picture frame rattling lightly against the wall. Bradley walks into the living room before dropping his duffle bag in front of the couch. It is filthy, he is filthy. The arms of his flight suit are tied low on his hips, his white t-shirt completely stained with grease and gear lubricant. It looks angry, deep brown and jet black against the stark white of the cotton. Days like this, Honey would be in his arms as soon as his bag hits the floor, but today is different.

Honey stands on the other side of the room, her back to her lover.

Bradley and Honey are somewhere between whole heartedly committed and casual. She practically lives in his small home with him when he isn't away on deployment and there to take care of his plants when he is. It has been this way for almost two years, a little house right down the road from the beach in Pensacola.

NAS Pensacola isn't home to Bradley, and Florida isn't home to either of them. They met by happenstance, both stranded in a storm at a little bar-motel in Maryland. He was there for work, she was there trying to track down information on her father. One drink turned into three, one night turned into a long weekend, and the two have been intertwined ever since. Honey followed him to Florida, still on her search for her father, who she never called by name. She'd said it was too painful and she wasn't ready to talk about him until she could talk to him. They hadn't intended on dating, and Honey had intended on getting the information she was looking for and then be moving on. But they had to go and fall in love.

"Honey?" Bradley finally looks up at her, taking in the slump of she shoulders. The whole energy in the house wrong. There is no candle burning on the coffee table, the blinds aren't open to let the sun in, and Honey hadn't found her way into his arms yet. Something is most definitely wrong.

He bends down to untie his boots as he waits for his lover to answer his call. She doesn't move to turn around, nor does she say a word. Her eyes are locked on the photo of Bradley and Nick, his father, that is hanging up on the wall. In it, Bradley sits atop Nick's shoulders, both wearing grins so big she could practically see the ache in their cheeks. Her eyes trace over the frame, then Bradley, down to Nick, then back up again to repeat the process. Honey has been standing there, eyes glued to the photo for the better part of the last hour.

Before she found herself in front of the photograph on the wall, she had been staring at the photo in her hand for much too long. She has been holding it so long that there are fingerprints on the glossy side of the photo, both in full and partial prints not kept to the edges.

Honey had been dusting the mantle earlier that afternoon, her body poised on a stepstool to get the shelves above the fireplace too. As she was cleaning, she bumped a framed photograph of Bradley and his mother, Carole, posed together on his High School graduation, shortly before she had passed away. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his frame, partly out of love, partly to keep herself standing upright. She had insisted on standing for the photo, even though Bradley wanted her to stay in her wheelchair.

Bradley had told Honey about his mother so many times before. He loved showing her the photographs and telling her stories. He is so proud of his parents; but Honey knew he was a Mama's boy. That was likely because she was the only parent he had for a majority of his life, between deployments and his father's untimely passing.

The relationship he had with his Mother was special. It was something that allowed Bradley and Honey to bond over when they first began dating. Her father walked out on her and her Mother before she had her first birthday. Honey was a Mama's girl too- her Mother passed away five years prior due to a driving accident. Black ice in the middle of winter was no joke, and Honey's mother should not have been out driving in the first place.

Both effectively orphans, the pair bonded quickly. Lack of family tended to do that to people.

Bradley tired to get Honey to talk about her father, to share just a little bit of information about him. All he ever managed to learn was his Navy association. He grimaced when he found out, knowing just how many deadbeats there are in the Military.

After Honey had knocked the photograph off the shelf with her elbow, it hit the floor and shattered. It took her ages to clean up the glass, and she even managed to save the photo of Bradley and his mother from being ruined. What she was not expecting was the photograph hidden behind it.

In her hand, she clutches a photo of Pete Mitchell and Bradley at his high school graduation, both smiling and happy. Bradley has the hope for his whole future in his eyes, that much is clear enough to see. Pete has an arm around Bradley, pulling him close as he holds a photo of Nick in his other hand.

The photograph lead her to where she stands now, unwavering in her place, even as Bradley calls her name again.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Bradley crosses the room, his untied shoelaces hitting against his boots with small clinks from the plastic aglets. He reaches a hand out to her, gently pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Honey?"

She turns to him, eyes glassy. The sight of Bradley swims, tears distorting her vision. Her cheeks are red, like she has been straining to hold back her tears. Quickly, he eyes the rest of her form, taking her in in her entirety, trying to pinpoint her distress. His eyes land on the photo she has creased in hand. Gently, he takes the photo from her hand before pulling her into his chest.

The grease smeared shirt across his chest becomes a home for a lose tear as he brings her into his frame, her face pressing into the expanse of his chest, near his shoulder.

"I broke a frame while I was cleaning," Honey begins, her voice so quiet he almost misses it, "I'm sorry, Bradley,"

"Oh, Honey," Bradley coos lightly, "You don't have to be sorry, it's okay. The frame can be replaced, no need to be upset, Sweet Girl,"

Honey sniffles against his chest, bringing a hand up to try and brush a tear from the fullness of her cheek. She almost chides him for thinking she would be upset over something so small, but she can't find it in her to make the joke out loud.

Bradley smiles to himself, thinking about how caring his girl is, but the smile immediately disappears as he looks at the photo he had taken from her moments before. This is not the photo that was on display. Bradley would never have a photo of Maverick up in his house, not after the older man pulled his papers for the academy. Absolutely not.

"Honey," Bradley pulls back, his eyes glued on the photo, "Where did you get this?"

"It was in the back of the frame- behind the- behind the photo of you and your Mom," She hiccups through the sentence, anxiety rising up in her chest again. The taste of bile is sour on her tongue as she looks over Bradley's expression. His brows are furrowed, eyes narrow and angry as he locks eyes with the photograph.

"Who is that?" Honey asks, even though she already knows.

"Pete Mitchell," Bradley's voice is laced with so much venom it gives her goosebumps. She raises her eyebrows but Bradley doesn't need prompting to continue. "He flew with my Dad, was the reason for his accident. If they didn't have to eject, my father would still be here today. And then, when I applied for the Academy, he derailed my career by years when he pulled my papers. I haven't spoken to him since,"

A noncommittal hum is the only thing Honey can muster in response. Honey can feel her skin flush hot and cold but tries to push the feeling aside.

"I need to talk to you about something," Honey's words sound heavy coming off of her tongue. The tone snaps Bradley's eyes right up to her, the picture being abandoned on the coffee table.

"What is it?"

There are so many things Honey wants to say. She wants to plead for Bradley to tell her everything he knows about Maverick. There is a part of her, deep inside, that is still eight years old, still the same little girl who realized for the first time that her father wasn't coming back not because he couldn't but because he didn't want to.

Honey wants to tell Bradley that Maverick is her father, to explain that the man standing next to him, clad in a leather jacket and dark washed jeans is her father. The man who didn't want her. She wants to bond over their appeared shared hatred of the man. Honey wants to curse his name and burn every photo of him that the two are in possession of. She wants to say fuck you to Pete Mitchell all together, with the man she loves by her side.

But instead, the words that leave her mouth are much, much worse.

"You can't talk about your father anymore,"

The words aren't tactful, but they aren't exactly a lie either. She has always had a hard time listening to Bradley talk about Nick. There has always been something so fucking bitter inside of her whenever he would talk about him. The knowledge that her father is a Naval Aviator, just as Bradley's had been was just too close for comfort for her. But now? Knowing that the stories of his father are also stories of her father. That broke her.

"Excuse me?"

The statement catches Bradley off guard so much he almost feels dizzy. If it weren't for the clunky air conditioning unit in the window behind Honey humming away, he might've blamed the feeling on stifling Floridian humidity. But, unfortunately for them both, he heard her correctly.

"That's not what I meant! Shit!" Honey starts, but Bradley's expression doesn't turn any more pleasant.

"I mean, fuck, I can't listen to you talk about your father anymore!" That sentence isn't any better. Honey can hear her own blood rushing through her ears, the same way she can feel the heat rising to her face with it.

"What?"

The venom is back in Bradley's voice, anger is beginning to boil behind the color in his eyes. Suddenly Honey wishes she could rewind time, just two fucking minutes.

If there is one thing for sure, Honey may just be fragile like that picture frame, but Bradley is fragile like a bomb.

Bradley's fists ball at his sides, knuckles going white as he squeezes them tight. Honey can't take her eyes from his face, from the vein that bulges in the side of his neck. She notices how his lip curls forward, his mustache sloping downward with his frown.

"I just-" Honey takes a deep breath; it's ragged as it goes in and back out, catching on the broken pieces of her heart, "I can't have flashbacks from memories that aren't mine- I can't have this image in my mind of a man that I didn't know,"

Bradley is fuming now, listening to the words as they come out of his lover's mouth. He already had a shit day, having come down on new assignment back to TOP GUN. He didn't want to tell Honey, worried about what she might say. Worried that she might not pack up her life and go with him, or worse, that she wouldn't be here waiting for him to come back.

Honey isn't explaining herself well, but he doesn't know that, nor can he calm down enough to figure out exactly what she is talking about. At face value, she is bad mouthing his father, the great Nick Bradshaw, mother Goose, and Bradley won't stand for that. He misses the words coming out of her mouth and the new tears that have made their way down her cheeks.

"Shut up!" Bradley yells, his hands coming up to grip tightly in his hair. The words cut Honey off mid-sentence, and she obeys the command, more out of stunned compliance than choice.

"Brad-"

"No!" He points a finger right into her face, anger fully taking him over. He hasn't been this angry since Mav pulled his papers, the almost forgotten feeling burning beneath his skin. Honey's lip quivers, but she pulls it into her mouth, between her teeth to keep him from seeing it. "You do not get to stand here, in my house, and talk shit about my father!"

"No! Brad-" Honey holds out her hands, pleading for him to just listen, for just one second. Just long enough for her to get this mess of a miscommunication figured out.

"Enough!" Bradley's voice practically shakes the room, "Get out!"

"What?" Honey's voice is so unbelievably small now, like she doesn't trust herself to speak.

"Get. Out. Now." Bradley can barely look at her. Honey knows when she has lost a fight. So, she moves past him, grabbing her purse from the couch on her way past. She makes it to the door, her hand still on the handle before she speaks one last time.

"You like to think you are so much like your father, all good heart and good man, but in reality, you are just like mine,"

Honey slams the door behind her, the sound echoing though the house. She doesn't stop long enough to hear the picture frame fall from it's place on the wall, the glass shattering against the tile.

There is too much left unsaid, the words that made it out taken to far and just wrong. Nick was the kind of man she always wished her father would have been. Kind, good, loving. And when she didn't find that in her own father, she found it in Bradley instead. Bradley liked to say that his father would have loved her, enough for both himself and her father combined, and she believed it too. But now, as she walks away from Bradley, she can't help but know just how disappointed Nick would be in her.

Because, doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard. And now, Honey knows exactly just how much better things are on the in swing of that front door.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun angst #bradley rooster bradshaw angst #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick angst #slamming doors

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topguncortez · 2 years

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Reaper- B. Bradshaw

pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x pilot!female "Reaper" word count: 4.6k request?: yes warnings: arguments, cursing, top gun shit, smutty, pregnancy, death. synopsis: There are some fears from the past that Bradley can't quite shake. But is your love enough to change things for the future?

Being called back to Top Gun was never in your deck of cards. You knew that being the best of the best meant that you were always on the Navy’s radar. You were one of the three pilots with a confirmed shot in the past thirty years. You were called ‘Reaper’ for the kill and the fact that you were basically soulless. You didn’t care much about anyone else but yourself. You were a team player in the sky when you had to be, but on land, it was every man for themselves. Except, when it came to Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw.

You met Bradley at flight school years prior and had hit it off hot and heavy. Your very first interaction ended with you naked in his bed. That’s how every off base interaction went with the two of you. Drinks, laughs, slight glances, secret touches and hoping to avoid everyone's eyes as you both walked to Bradley’s bronco and drove to his barracks room. It had gone on for weeks now, even prior to being stationed at Top Gun.

You didn’t even think anything of it. You summed up your late menstrual cycle to the stress of flying and the mission at hand. Your cycle had always been a little off, the flying at supersonic speed didn’t help. The last thing to ever cross her mind was that she could be pregnant. She had always been careful, she knew that there was no room for children at this point in her career. She was just getting started, she was in top condition, was the top of her class, didn’t have anything holding her back from being sent around the world to do god knows what. But here she was, standing over the small bathroom sink in her barracks room, covering her mouth with her hand as she sobbed.

This could not be happening. Not a day before she was to board a carrier and be taken to the middle of the ocean to possibly be chosen for one of the most dangerous missions of the century. She knew exactly who’s baby it was too. Someone who also didn’t want children. You and Bradley had talked about it one night, as you were coming down from your highs, you had asked him about kids. You had shared that you wanted kids at some point, but you could wait for a bit on them. But Bradley, he wanted nothing to do with kids.

— — —

“You don’t ever want to know the feeling of holding your own newborn, soft and fresh into the world, against your chest, their big eyes looking at you like you are the only care in the world. You don’t want that feeling?” You had asked him, playing his fingers as you laid on his chest. Bradley sighed, and kissed the top of your head.

“I also don’t want another kid growing up in this world without a father. Or having to stand beside their weeping mother and trying to understand why dad isn’t ever coming back. Or having to grow up and be the man of the house.” Bradley responded.

You gulped, closing your eyes as Bradley’s words hit your heart. You knew he had fears about his career, every time he left the carrier it could very much be his last time. You also shared the same fears as him. You feared never coming back, never seeing your mom or your friends or even Bradley again. . But you never knew this fear of his. This one, was something dark and rooted deep within him. You opened your eyes and looked at his brown ones, seeing tears well up in his eyes.

“Roos-”

“Nah,” He sniffled, “It’s old ghosts and shit. I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now, not with you, in my bed. . . naked.”

“I am,” You said and rolled on top of him. His hands went straight to your hips. You two hadn’t bothered to get dressed after the last time you had sex. There was nothing in between the two of you, and you could feel his cock already getting hard. You leaned down, pressing kisses to his neck, as you ground your hips lazily against his.

“Fuck, keeping doing that and I’ll cum against my stomach like some teenage boy.” Bradley moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back. He crashed his lips to yours, and you lifted your hips slightly, and lined him up with your entrance. You sunk down on him slowly, feeling a slight burn as he stretched you, “Still tight every single time.” Bradley grunted as you took him in completely.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned and started moving up and down in his lap. His hands roamed your body, bringing you closer to him, if that was even possible.

— — —

You had a lot of fears, one of them being the fact you have been flying at supersonic speed and flipping upside down. You had no idea what kind of damage you could’ve been doing to the unborn baby in your uterus. You went directly to the medical wing that morning, getting a quick physical and paperwork for a profile. You were quite shocked when the doctor told you that you were 6 weeks along, but everything looked good, which was a small weight off your shoulders.

The next thing was to board the carrier and talk to Maverick. You knew he would be deciding on who are the other five aviators that go with him on the mission tomorrow. You also knew that Maverick would choose you and Rooster. If there was anyone Maverick trusted more than Iceman and Goose, it was you and Rooster. You had worked with Maverick in Lemoore, and before you, Maverick had worked with your old man while in Iraq. You were a good pilot, and Maverick knew that.

The flight deck was quiet as you stood on it, the scent of salt water filling your senses, as you wrapped your jacket around you. You were half way in the middle of the pacific ocean right now, watching the sunset on the endless ocean. Usually, being on the flight deck alone brought you comfort, it was your quiet place to think, but your mind was running a mile a minute. You were thinking of how you were going to tell Maverick not to pick you and the reason why. You thought about not telling him, about waiting to see if he would choose you, but you knew that you couldn’t even take the risk. It wasn’t just about you anymore.

Standing outside of Maverick’s office door, you took a deep breath. You knocked, and waited for him to call you in.

“Reaper,” Maverick said, looking at you shocked, “What’s up?”

“You can’t choose me.” You said.

“Wh-why?” Maverick said, and crossed his arms over his chest, looking rather upset. Were you backing out? Were you scared? You are the best ot the best, the top fighter pilot in the US Navy, and you are standing in front of him trying to-

“I’m pregnant,” You said, handing him the profile you had gotten from the doctor, “Six weeks.”

Maverick’s jaw dropped, looking you up and down, “You’ve been fly-”

“I got checked out this morning, and the doctor said everything looks okay. Not the first time this has happened in Naval history,” You laughed, looking at your hands, “I. . . I need you not to choose Bradley either.”

“What?”

“I can’t lose him,” You said looking at Maverick with tears in your eyes, “I can’t. I won’t.”

“This isn’t your decision to-”

“You’ve already robbed one child of their father, don’t be the cause of another one.”

You knew that hit low, that it was below the belt. Maverick’s jaw clenched as he looked at you. You looked away from him, not believing what you actually said to him. Maverick knew what you said was out of fear, but he also knew that he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t choose Bradley. Instead, he just nodded and dismissed you, telling you that formation was on the lower deck at seven.

— — —

You stood in formation with the rest of your class, trying to stop your legs from shaking. You knew that Maverick wasn’t going to disobey the profile you had given him. He wasn’t going to put you or your baby in danger. He would’ve much rather you told him earlier and be sitting at home and not on the carrier in the middle of the pacific.

Maverick looked at his class as he stood in front of the formation. It had been a true honor to fly with all of them. To have a chance to share the sky with the best of the best. But now it was time to choose the other five aviators. Five of them, who might never make it home. It was a weight on Maverick’s chest as he spoke to all of them.

“Name your two foxtrot teams,” Cyclone commanded.

“Fanboy and Payback, Bob and Phoenix,” Maverick said. You saw the female look at her WSO and then glance behind her shoulder at you. You gave her a smile that quickly faded when she turned back around.

“And your other team lead?”

Maverick looked at you, almost as if to say ‘I choose you’ and then over at Bradley, “Rooster.”

You felt your stomach drop, and looked at Bradley, whose face was unreadable. Once you were dismissed, you went straight towards Maverick. You followed him down a hallway and once you thought you were out of earshot, you yelled to him.

“Did you not hear what I said?” You yelled.

“I did,” Maverick said, “I chose who I know is going to be the best pilot out there.”

“He’s going to be a father, Maverick!” You cried, feeling tears run down your cheeks, “Why the hell would you do that to him!? To me?! To us!?”

“You don’t get to dictate whether he flies or not!” Maverick yelled, “There is no one else I want to be up in the air with than him!”

“Him or Goose?” You said, smirking, “If this is some redemption move to make yourself feel better about what happened to his ol’ man-”

“At Least I won’t have the guilt of trying to ground him-”

You clenched your jaw, letting Maverick walk by you and down to his quarters. You placed your hands on your head, trying to catch your breath. Leaning up against the metal wall of the hallway, you let out a shaky breath. You knew the words you were saying were out of fear and Maverick did too. You just hoped he could forgive you.

“You tried to ground me?” You lifted your head and saw Rooster standing in the hallway near you.

“Brad-”

“Are you serious? You tried to ground me? For what? So you can go instead? So you can get another confirmation shot and prove that you really are true to your name.”

“It’s not like that-”

“Then what is it like!?” Bradley yelled, his voice echoing off the metal walls of the carrier’s hallway. Your mouth opened a couple times as you tried to gather your thoughts but Bradley shook his head, “Don’t. I’m turning in for the night. I got- yeah. . . “

You nodded and watched as Bradley walked away from you. You didn’t want this to be the cause of losing Bradley forever. You never imagined that this would be the thing that pulled you two apart. You sucked in a breath and pushed off the wall, going down to your quarters. You were sharing with Phoenix. She gave you a sad smile, as you two moved in silence, getting ready for bed.

Over the last three weeks you had gotten used to sleeping next to Bradley. After rolling around in the sheets, feeling his hands roam your body, his lips on yours, his body moving in sync with yours, you would fall asleep next to one another. It was easy to feel safe in his strong, warm embrace. But right now you felt cold as you laid awake, staring at the ceiling. Your hands went to your flat belly, caressing the skin with your thumbs. And on the other side of the boat, Bradley laid wide awake too.

— — —

The flight deck was busy the next morning, crew and aviators walking around doing checks on their planes. There was both excitement and fear in the air. You had only caught a glimpse of Bradley, deciding on keeping your distance so he could have one hundred percent focus on the task at hand. You checked in with your crew, getting pre-flight numbers and documenting them before Cyclone had called everyone to attention. Maverick hadn’t told Cyclone about your pregnancy, which was one of the only ways you were still allowed to suit up and wait in que in case shit hit the fan.

“Y/N,” You heard Bradley call to you as Cyclone dismissed you after giving the rundown once more, You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You two weren’t ever ones for PDA choosing to keep things professional, even before dangerous missions. You looked at him, taking in all his features, committing them all to memory in case this was the last time you ever saw him.

“Take me to bed or lose me forever,” He said to you and you smiled.

“Show me the way home, honey,” You said back to him, fighting back tears. Bradley nodded as his WO came over and got him ready for flight.

“I never understand you two,” Hangman said, as he climbed up into his jet, “You’re cold as ice and he’s soft as a marshmallow.”

“We offset each other,” You smile to yourself. You sit down in your seat, adjusting your straps and buckles. Your heart was in your ears as you listened to the dagger teams sign on.

“This is dagger two, copy, over,” Bradley’s voice filled your ears and you closed your eyes.

The deck waited with a baited breath as Cyclone gave the sign to start the mission. The second Maverick’s plane flew off the flight deck and you felt sick to your stomach. You closed your eyes, placing a hand on your stomach as you heard Rooster call and then depart the flight deck.

You sat still, listening to everything the control tower and the daggers were saying as they documented their flight. You listened as the four aircrafts made their way through the low valley, going undetected by the SAMS overhead waiting for them. You clenched your jaw as they called that two bandits had entered the airspace. Payback kept calling for Rooster to speed up, knowing that they would be sitting ducks for the bandits when they get to the target.

“Come on, Rooster, come on,” You said quietly to yourself.

“Talk to me, dad,” You heard Rooster whisper over the radio. You bit your lip, your hand finding your stomach once more. Hangman looked over at you, confusion on his face. You looked back up at him, and the look on your face answered his question. His mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape and he looked back out at the flight deck.

“Come on kid, don’t think, just do,” Maverick whispered back.

Bradley had found it in himself, completely clearing his mind and pushing the speed of his aircraft. You smiled, nodding as he caught up to Bob and Phoenix. You listened as he made the curves, keeping your eye on Maverick as well. You held your breath as Bob lined up the shot for Maverick. The second the missile was dropped and the target was hit, the deck seemed to let out a breath, but for only a second as the next missile was the most crucial.

“Line it up, Fanboy,” Rooster called out.

“I can’t! Dead eye, dead eye!” Fanboy responded, struggling to get his laser under control.

“I’m dropping blind,” Rooster said.

“Oh my god, please, please, please,” You prayed as you heard Rooster release his missile. There was a moment of complete silence and then a cheer as Rooster had hit the target, completely destroying the uranium plant, “Oh my god!” Hangman did a small dance in his seat and you laughed at him.

“Not home safe yet,” You could hear Cyclone say over the radio, “They’re in coffin corner.”

You closed your eyes as the radio was overrun with calls and orders from the aviators. You tried to watch and keep track of what was going on, but the second Rooster said he was out of flares, your heart stopped. You kept listening as Rooster called for help to shake two missiles that were on him.

“Dagger one is down! I repeat dagger one is down!” Phoenix called out.

You gasped, as you tried to wrap your head around what you had just heard. Maverick was gone. Just like that, the legend that you had heard about so much from Bradley and have seen work for the past couple weeks was dead. You felt tears well up in your eyes, as you hit the dash in front of you with your fists. You looked up at the sky, and prayed that Maverick had forgiven you for what you said.

“Permission for Dagger standby?” You said through clenched teeth. Hangman snapped his head over to you, shaking his head. It was silent for a moment, as you waited for your answer.

“Permission denied.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall down your face. You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand when you heard Rooster’s voice come in over the radio.

“Fuck it,” Rooster muttered.

“What- Rooster!” Phoenix yelled.

“Rooster?” You whispered to yourself.

You felt like vomiting, your helmet suddenly felt too tight around your head, and your vision got blurry as Rooster had turned his aircraft, going back towards where Maverick was shot down. You listened as Rooster reported what he was doing, going back to find Maverick. He had shot down a helicopter, spotting Maverick, but as he was trying to come back to the carrier, two missiles came directly for him.

“I’ve been hit!” Rooster yelled.

“No!” You cried.

“Dagger two, come in, dagger two!” The radio operator yelled. Nothing was heard but silence.

“I lost him,” You muttered, your eyes glassy with tears, “I just lost him. I-I lost-”

“Hey, Reaper!” Hangman yelled, “Hey, get her down! Now!” He yelled at some lower enlisted sailors.

You somehow got your straps undone, and found your way down the ladder of your aircraft. You threw your helmet somewhere as you stumbled over to the other side of your aircraft and threw up. Sobs racked your body as you heaved up whatever breakfast you had this morning. You looked up and covered your ears as Bob, Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback were landing. You wanted to scream, you wanted to get into one of those F-18s and go find him yourself. But instead, Hangman came and hugged you, holding on to you tightly as though you might blow off the deck.

“He’s gone,” You whispered.

“It’s okay, It’ll be okay,” Hangman said, as you sobbed. You felt your knees give out, and he gripped your harder, helping you stay on your own two feet as Phoenix came running over to you, “Take her in. Get her something to drink.”

Phoenix nodded, as her and Bob wrapped an arm around you making sure you didn't pass out. The three of you made your way into the tower, you stood quietly in the back of the control room watching on the radar as they were waiting for the all clear to send apaches in to survey the area for Rooster and Maverick. You felt Phoenix grab your hand, you looked at her and she gave it a squeeze.

“Sir, Rooster’s signal just came back on,” One of the operators said.

“What?” Cyclone said, looking at the screen, “In what?”

“An F-14,” The operator reported.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Cyclone said.

“Sir, let me go, please,” You said looking at the admiral, “Let me go as Hangman’s backseater, please.”

Cyclone looked at you and nodded. You wasted no time running out of the tower and towards Hangman. He looked at you with wide eyes as you picked up your helmet you had discarded earlier and ran towards his plane.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hangman called out to you.

“I’m your new backseater,” You said, jumping on the wing and climbing into the back. You quickly strapped yourself in and Hangman looked at you like you had grown a third eye, “Are you going to look at me or take the chance to get your second confirmed shot?”

Hangman shook his head, “As long as I get to be godfather.”

“Let’s bring them home safe and you can tell Rooster that yourself,” You said.

Hangman smirked as he strapped his mask to his face, you doing the same. It never got easier taking off from the carrier and it felt even worse not being in front, letting Hangman have full reign of the plane. You said a small prayer, feeling your stomach drop as you hit the sky, being completely airborne. You searched the sky, looking for the F-14 and the bandit.

“On your three, Hangman.” You said and he nodded, turning right as he spotted the old jet. Your heart stopped, seeing Bradley look up at the sky, his face looking helpless. You placed your hand on the canopy, as if you were trying to reach out to him.

“Line the shot, Reap,” Hangman ordered. You nodded, taking your eyes off of Bradley and on the target at hand, the fifth generation flyer. You clenched your jaw, lining up the shot on your radar, “Deploying missile. . . now!”

“Kill those bitches,” You said, as he deployed the missile destroying the fighterjet, “Fuck yeah!”

“That’s number two!” Hangman cheered.

“One and a half,” You smirked, “Fly up next to them.” Hangman nodded, flying up next to them. You snapped your mask to your face and smirked seeing them, “Good afternoon aviators, this is your savior speaking.”

Bradley looked over and smiled seeing you, “Reaper, I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing I'm seeing you.”

“I told you I'd show you the way home,” You said.

“Alright, wait until I’m out of sight to make kissy faces at each other,” Hangman said, as you guys got closer to the flight deck.

The landing was smooth as Hangman dropped the jet in and skidded to a stop. You guys quickly dismounted the cockpit, Hangman helping you down. You quickly ran to where the net crew was, getting the stops out to catch Maverick’s plane. You got in where you could, grabbing on the net and helping to pull it straight across the flight deck. Hangman ran over to you, as Maverick flew by the tower, and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the way. You held on to him as the plane came to a screeching halt. You didn’t even wait for the cockpit to open as you ran right over to where Rooster was getting out.

“Oh!” Rooster grunted as you hugged him the second his boots hit the deck. He hugged you back tightly, like this was a dream.

“I’m sorry,” You said lifting your head up, “I’m sorry I ever-”

“No,” Bradley shook his head, putting his hand on your cheek, “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I love-”

You cut him off, by placing a kiss on his lips. It was like no one else mattered in that moment. The deck erupted in cheers as the deckhands and crew came out to welcome Rooster and Maverick home. You two separated and smiled at the group around you, but Bradley kept his arm around you. Hangman walked over to you two, you looked between them as Hangman held his hand out to Rooster, Bradley looked at his hand, and quickly brought him in for a hug. You laughed and looked at Phoenix, bringing her in for a hug.

“What is this I hear about a potential god-mother spot?” Phoenix said to you.

“Shhh,” You smiled, “We’ll talk later. Maybe once we get off this fucking aircraft carrier.” Phoenix nodded and kissed your cheek before running off to go hug someone else. You smiled and looked around at the crowd, spotting someone else you need to apologize to, “Maverick!” You pushed your way through the crowd over to the older pilot, “Hey!”

“Reaper,” Maverick said.

“I’m sorry,” You said, “You saved his life-”

“And you saved mine,” Maverick said, “Consider it, even?”

“Even. . . grandpa,” You smirked and Maverick pointed at you with a smile on his face.

That night you finally slept soundly in Bradley’s arms.

— — —

The second most peaceful place for you was the ocean. The peaceful crash of the waves, the call of the seagulls, the softness of the sand. The morning air was quite cold as you sat in the sand, a blanket around your shoulders as you watched the waves crash against the sand. You and Bradley had spent last night together, getting reunited with one another, even though you weren’t apart for long. Bradley had taken his time, loving on you, feeling every inch of your body, loving every curve, every freckle, every scar. He wanted to commit your body to memory, over and over again. He was terrified he was going to die and never be able to tell you how he felt. So last night he made sure you knew just how much he loved you and you, him.

You tried pushing it to the back of your mind, but you knew that you had to tell him before anything else happened. It would absolutely break you to lose him, but you also knew how he felt about children. Yesterday, those minutes where you thought you had lost him were the worst moments of your life. You couldn’t think what it would’ve been like to come home to your child, a little boy or girl who would look so much like Bradley and have to explain what happened. But you also knew, you didn’t want to come home to a house without him.

“Snuck out on me,” Bradley said, walking up to you. You looked up at him as he came and sat next to you, “How are you feeling? Phoenix told me what happened after I-”

“I don’t want to talk about yesterday,” You said, looking down at your feet, buried in the sand, “I thought I lost you. I thought you were dead in the middle of some European mountain range and I would never find you. And your. . . your child would have to grow up not knowing who you are.”

“My-” Bradley looked down at you, “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m sorry,” You said looking at him, “I’m so sorry. I know how you-”

You were cut off by Bradley hugging you tightly. You sighed into him, your body shaking with tears. You felt Bradley nuzzle into your neck, and your hand went to the back of his head, holding him there as he too cried. He pulled back from the hug and looked down at your tummy. He let out a shaky breath as he tried to steady his shaking hands and placed it on your belly.

“There’s. . . There’s a baby in there?” He said through his tears, “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

Bradley looked up at you, his brown eyes filled with love, “I love you. And I’m never going to leave you alone. Either of you.” Bradley spoke to your belly.

“I love you too. We both love you.”

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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

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What's Your Country Song? (TGM Mixtape Series)

When you're rolling down a two-lane highway and you turn your radio on, tell me which one hits you, baby, yeah, what's your country song?

-> a collection of works I've made based off of different country songs for the TGM universe.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Neon Moon -> You're drowning your sorrows after calling off your engagement on Valentine's Day in a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. Alongside you, Bradley Bradshaw sits at the bar, going through a similar situation.

Remind Me ✿ -> 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.

All-American Girl -> Bradley's every part the doting dad to your daughter Tatum, but after talking to some of the other wives on base in your mom's group, you're worried he may be hiding his true feelings about fatherhood.

Hurricane --> 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.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Cowboy Casanova ✿ -> Jake always refers to himself as a cowboy. Today, you've decided to test just how far that goes.

Heads Carolina, Tails California -> When you and your friends hear Jake Seresin's beach football mixtape, you can't help but join in the game.

God, Your Mama and Me -> Coronado's picturesque beaches have been a special, integral part of your relationship with Jake, and they're about to become a whole lot more important.

Beer Never Broke My Heart -> Jake's never been lucky in love, and as a result of past failures and heartbreaks, he's resolved to not fall in love anymore. That is, until he meets one of Bob's friends.

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Forever and Ever, Amen -> Deployments are hard for you. They're even harder for Bob. He reassures you he's never going to stop loving you though.

High On Lovin' You ✿ -> Bob's been taking on the doting dad role since the birth of your daughter, but lately, you've been finding yourself more and more attracted to how he cares for her. All The Pretty Girls -> Home for a long overdue visit, Bob is dreading seeing his family again. He doesn't fit in and he'd rather just be at home. Just as he's planning his escape, he sees you.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

Do I? -> Beau knows he's not the most attentive husband, but when he forgets his son Dylan's baseball tournament, he makes it his mission to make it up to you both. ✿ - denotes smut/18+ content.

credit to @mamachasesmayhem for the banner + @firefly-graphics for the divider 🤍

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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whiskey sour | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

disclaimer: this fic is my contribution to @callsign-phoenix 's 1K celebration! I had the prompt 'bradley sour' and figured I'd give a little slow burn fic a whirl! fun fact, I used to bartend - and my absolute favourite drink to make and devour was whiskey sours.

warnings: afab!reader, fem!reader, no use of y/n, pet names, slow burn, naval inaccuracies, bradley being a lil sad, mentions of alcohol - consuming and making alcoholic beverages.

description: you bartend at the hard deck to bradley's great content, until you don't anymore.

tagging: @roosterforme @theharddeck @mak-32 @hangmanbrainrot

word count: ~4K.

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

“Pour 2 oz of whiskey or bourbon in to a shaker,”

It had been closer to 10 years now. 10 years of snippets of life shared with one of the best people you’d ever had the luck to meet. The first time your paths crossed, was your first shift as a bartender at the Hard Deck. A young man, who didn’t quite possess the confident stance he held nowadays, with a form that was a little slimmer, and a clean shaven face, walked into the bar. The first time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw was when he was first called to Top Gun, when he was only in his twenties.

He’d approached the bar on a slow day, and his hesitant way of asking for something to drink almost had you asking him for his ID. He’d been a bit unsure as you asked if he’d like a beer that you’d seen his mates getting earlier. Bradley had furrowed his brow, gently rubbing the tip of his nose, (something you now knew was a tell that he was hesitant or nervous) and he looked almost resolved to reluctantly telling you yes before you cut him off.

“Or, I could make you something else. Something a bit tastier than beer,” honestly, to this day, you’ll never know why you wanted to put him at ease. Why you wanted to please him, why you’d rather see a smile on his handsome face than a frown.

“Make me something else? You mean like a drink?” there was hesitance laced within those words. A small smirk was tugging on the corners of your lips, you were quite sure he was hesitant about bringing a drink back to his pals - afraid your version of a drink might hold a tiny umbrella and tonnes of fruit.

“Not to worry, sailor. I’ll make you something very classy. Manly, if you will,” he chuckled at your joke, feeling his shoulders relax a bit as you smiled at him. He didn’t correct you that time, and it took you quite a while to tell the difference between sailors, aviators and other personnel.

“What did you have in mind?” His voice was so soothing. A hint of a rasp, his tenor enticing you entirely. Before a flush of warmth could overtake your body you replied steadily;

“A whiskey sour of course. It’s sort of my specialty,” he nodded, smiling softly at you in affirmation of your choice, though he later told you he’d never had one before, but he didn’t want to tell you because he figured he’d embarrassed himself enough already.

“Add lemon juice to the shaker,”

That first whiskey sour had Bradley’s amber eyes widening, twinkling in delight at the taste. Your eager smile urged him to tell you how good it was, and how he appreciated you taking the time to make him one.

Approximately a week later he had come back, bashfully asking you to make “that drink” again, because he’d forgotten the name. You’d smiled broadly, and he’d backtracked a little saying he didn’t expect you to remember his order, the tips of his ears turning red. Reassuring him, you told him the name of the drink before making it a second time, out of many more to come.

Those weeks that Bradley was stationed in San Diego for Top Gun were some of your best in your twenties. Bradley had invited you to various beach hang outs with his friends, and the two of you formed a close friendship. You were the first one his eyes sought out as he entered the Hard Deck, every time he had the fortune to stroll inside.

“Add simple syrup to taste,”

When Bradley at long last was ordered to be stationed elsewhere, he visited you one last time, and you could hardly keep your tears at bay as he entered, saying that he’d be ordering his last whiskey sour from you for some time, his khaki uniform making him look rather handsome, his button-up short sleeved top hanging off his shoulders, the sleeves moving as he tipped the tumbler you’d placed in front of him to his plump lips.

“I’ll miss you, Bradley,” you’d confessed bashfully, and his wide smile had momentarily rendered you breathless.

“I’ll miss you too, sugar. I hope I’ll be able to come back soon to enjoy more of these,” he replied, smiling softly at you.

As it was, Bradley wouldn’t come back soon. It would be two years before he entered the Hard Deck again.

Truthfully, he half expected to see a random stranger behind his favorite bar. After all, he wouldn’t expect you to hang around for him or anyone else - surely you’d moved on to become something else, or took your bartending skills elsewhere. But to his great delight, as he opened the door to the bar, he could see your form behind the bartop. You were busy talking to a woman with black hair, polishing a glass with a rag before hanging it above your head. He smiled at the sight, warmth filling his stomach at the sight of you. You’d changed your hair color, and he couldn’t help but miss your original one - even though you looked beautiful either way.

As he took in your form, you looked up as the door closed behind him. Your beautiful face lit up with joy as you saw him, eyes filled with surprise and relief. It made Roosters' heart stutter, the way you lit up when you saw him. He hadn’t had anyone looking at him like that for many years.

“Rooster!” you were already leaning against the bartop, reaching for a shaker and a bottle of bourbon you knew he preferred his sours based on. You’d used Bradley to perfect your drink, and switched it up every so often to pick up what he preferred.

“Sugar,” he sighed happily, leaning against the bartop, drinking in your happy demeanor. “I’m very glad to find you here,” he confessed with that raspy tenor that you had missed so much.

“Where else would I be?” you smiled at him as you worked “I won’t be shipped out anytime soon,” Bradley chuckled at your joke, only feeling the slightest sting of hurt somewhere deep in his chest at your comment.

“You look good, sugar,” Bradley murmured, leaning closer to you over the bartop. Your movements stuttered momentarily, before you picked up a scoop of ice to add to the shaker. As you poured his drink over ice in a tumbler in silence, he wondered if he had overstepped some invisible boundary after not having seen you for 752 days.

“You’ve grown a mustache,” you replied, motioning to the sparse hair that he’d tried to grow out for a few months now. He chuckled and nodded “Quite right,” as you added some finishing touches; he soon held the tumbler in his hands, a sigh of contentment slipping past his lips as he tasted the perfect balance of sweet, sour and bourbon.

“Sugar, no one makes these like you. They taste awful in Lemoore,” he wrinkled his nose as he recalled a time he’d been out with his squadron in a pub off base, your face had popped up in his inebriated mind, and he’d found that he missed you, your conversations, and your delicious drinks. He’d ordered one in hopes of being enveloped by that comforting, warm and fuzzy feelings your drinks filled him with. However, he’d been met with a drink that had far too much sour in it, and the usage of a cheap whiskey had further made the drink taste like a cold shower more than the comfort he so yearned for.

That one night was the only Bradley could spare you before he disappeared again, leaving you at the Hard Deck to prepare drinks for other patrons. None of them invoking the feelings Bradley did in you.

“Carefully separate yolk and eggwhite, before adding the white to the shaker,”

Another 3 years passed. You’d entered a relationship during that time, though you were quite certain it wouldn’t last too long. You’d been enamored by their wit and easy-going nature - but as the relationship progressed, it had gotten increasingly obvious that this person had never had to lift a finger for themselves in their life. Which would be fine, if they did not expect you to do their every bidding. The pressure of constantly being at the beck and call of a partner, the pressure of making sure groceries were bought, the apartment cleaned, clothes washed and presents bought for friends and family, making sure rent was paid on time by working long hours at the Hard Deck - you were at the end of your rope.

Sometimes your thoughts would linger on the memories of Bradley. His lovely tenor, his easy manners and his natural charm. You missed seeing the bashful face that you had first encountered five years ago. And as you ended your short lived relationship, you couldn’t help but think of amber eyes.

“Dry shake the ingredients to work up a nice foam,”

Bradley wouldn’t exactly say he was especially lonely. He had friends that he loved to hang out with, his co-workers had at this point in time formed a tight knit squadron that had each other’s back at any point in time. He thrived in their company, feeding off of the energy of their happy smiles at his jokes and their general existence. However, when he closed the door to his dorm it all stopped. He was reminded that at the end of the day, he was awfully alone. No one to call if he had a rough day, no one to call for advice.

It made Bradley reflect upon the past couple of years, his fingers running slowly through his short curls. Sadly enough, there had only been one constant, one person who always greeted him with glittering eyes and a sunny smile. Always happy to see him, always ready with that shaker, already knowing what he was going to order. She always asked how he’d been, and genuinely seemed relieved to see him alive any time he walked into the Hard Deck. It always made him feel fuzzy and warm, but perhaps that was the liquor she supplied him. He hadn’t seen her in about four years now. Which meant that the first time he met her would be about six years ago. Furrowing his brows, he sat up straighter. It couldn’t have been six years already. And Bradley had never worked up the courage to ask her for her number, ask her on a date, or even ask if she wanted to grab a coffee just as friends outside of the Hard Deck. He felt ashamed. Why had he never thought to ask for your number? He was determined to get it, as he was about to be shipped off to San Diego for a brief period of time.

Bradley’s feet had barely gotten used to the San Diego soil before he rushed towards the bar. What if you weren’t there? The heavy door of the Hard Deck swung open, and he frantically looked around, trying to locate you. And there you were, half turned away from him as you tried to reach to change a lightbulb that had gone out.

“Sugar,” he sighed out, relief washing through his entire being as he drank in your appearance. You’d changed just slightly, the softness of youth slowly leaving you, as it had him too. He’d spent more time in the gym lately, to keep his aging body fit for flight. His khaki uniform now strained against his chest slightly, and there was no longer any room for the sleeves to move much. As his whispered nickname reached your ears, he could see you turn, see your surprised look morphe into a look of shock, of wonder, and ultimately of the greatest joy he’d seen.

“Rooster!” you laughed, and Bradley almost felt like crying hearing that lovely sound accompanying his callsign. Before he knew what was happening, you had hurried towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and embracing him hard. He’d only received a handful of hugs from you before this, but it had been so long. So, so long since he’d inhaled your sweet scent, seen the light in your eyes, witnessed how they lit up, been so long since he’d felt your body pressed tight against his chest.

“Sugar,” he murmured again, holding you close against him, swaying slightly back and forth before releasing you. As he looked down at you, he watched as your eyes roamed over him, taking in his slightly changed form.

“Rooster, you–” you paused, frowning slightly “Where did my Rooster go?” you hadn’t meant to sound so sad, but gone was your lankier Rooster, hair a little darker and mustache a little thinner. Now he was… big. There was no other word for it. His physique was impeccable, and his facial hair had finally thickened just to his liking. He was more tanned, and his hair lighter. It took your breath away.

“I’m right here, Sugar, I promise” Bradley smiled softly, not wanting you to be sad, but completely understanding your confusion at seeing him after so long.

“Are… are you staying long?” the tinge of hope in your voice broke his heart, and he had to avert his gaze to the floor to avoid being hit with your disappointment. His hand reached up to rub at the tip of his nose, brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Afraid not,” he replied solemnly, looking into your eyes again. He was surprised to find them soft, with an unreadable emotion swirling in their depths.

“Well then, I better start on that whiskey sour then?” you smiled, softly letting your fingers grace against his, gingerly grabbing ahold of two of his fingers to lead him to the bar.

Bradley smiled as he watched you flurry around the bar, hands instinctively grabbing bottles without looking at them - confident in your having sorted the bottles at the start of your shift, knowing where you’d put everything as you prepped, making sure it was all mise en place. You talked as you crafted his drink, telling him stories of what he’d missed in San Diego whilst he was gone. Bradley in turn updated you on his life as the evening came. After a couple of drinks, Rooster was enveloped in that warm fuzzy feeling that he had first gotten the moment your arms had enveloped his neck. He never wanted to leave this bar. Never wanted to leave you again.

“Sugar,” he mumbled as he noticed the time on his watch.

“Duty calls?” you replied sadly, offering him a weak smile as he rose. Should he ask you? Was it stupid of him to think you’d want to keep in touch with him as he was stationed elsewhere? Were you committed to someone else? Surely you were. But as he took in the sadness in your eyes, he noticed that one unreadable emotion again. He figured he had to try to hop off the perch.

“Could I… I mean, I miss you when I’m not here. And, well– if you wouldn’t mind of course,” fuck, he was rambling - but as he chanced a glance at your face, he saw nothing but softness, you didn’t seem annoyed, didn’t seem to mind that he was fumbling his words - as he paused, you smiled one of your comforting smiles and he soldiered on “Could I maybe have your number?” He finally managed to breathe out. The enormous grin that broke out on your face was almost reward enough for him, but as you scribbled your number on a piece of paper and gave it to him, he swore he could dance with joy.

“Can I give you a hug before you go, Bradley?” you whispered, and you blinked quickly to get rid of the burning sensation in your eyes. Roosters’ heart leapt, not only at the fact that you wanted to see him off with a hug, but also how his name rolled off of your lips so beautifully. His name. Not Rooster. Bradley. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, it had been a while since his name had been said with such care.

“Of course, Sugar. C’mere,” he murmured, opening his arms to envelop you in a long embrace, lips gently resting at the top of your head as he inhaled your sweet scent. And then he was gone. Again. This time hurt more than the others, you noted, as the dull ache of seeing Bradley leave again started up deep within your chest.

“When you’ve worked up a nice foam, add ice to the shaker and shake again”

The four years that passed since that exchange went by a little easier, perhaps because now you and Rooster texted, called and facetimed another. Not as frequently as you would like, but you understood that Rooster was busy advancing in his career, going on long missions where he didn’t have or wasn’t allowed cell service. He checked in with you when he could, and you made a point of only speaking of the good parts in your life. The funny stuff that happened at the Hard Deck, the new drink recipe you tried. You didn’t mention that you’d saved up enough to try your hand at an education, how tired you were all the time as your days were filled with lectures, seminars and studying - nights filled with drunk aviators and sailors, and somewhere in between you’d find some time to sleep.

As the tenth anniversary of meeting Rooster was coming up, you had finally graduated, and you were now three weeks away from leaving the Hard Deck to pursue the job of your dreams. You’d been thrilled that you’d found a position in San Diego, near the apartment you rented. Rooster had MIA from your texts for a while, and you figured that maybe he didn’t care too much for his bartender anymore. Perhaps he had finally found a better whiskey sour.

As you cut up limes and lemons, preparing for the Friday night ahead, Penny approached you with a smile, carrying a large box of new beers.

“Oh, is that the new IPAs?” you questioned with a smile, and Penny nodded in affirmative, “I’ve got them Pen, you’ve been working since this morning. Go take a break,” Penny gave you a thankful smile, before patting your shoulder affectionately and making her way out back.

As Penny left, you heard the front door open. Shit, usually the aviators and sailors were literate, and heeded the sign of the door that held your open hours.

“Hey, I’m sorry we haven’t opened yet,” you started, not looking away from your cutting board as you heard feet shuffle against the wooden floors.

“Not even for me, Sugar?” eyes snapping up, jaw slacking, you took in the form of Rooster. If it was possible, he’d gotten even broader. His jawline harder and sharper, arms and shoulder filling a hawaiian print button-up so nicely your breath hitched in your throat. It had been so long. You’d wanted him for so long. You weren’t sure you could handle him leaving you right away again. You wanted time. Time to spend with him. Tears burned in your eyes as you took in his form, and you could tell he felt slightly alarmed not to be greeted with your usual happiness. Wiping your tears, you plastered a grin onto your lips as his callsign rolled off your lips in a sigh.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Bradley murmured as you walked into his embrace, relaxing against his chest and reveling in his scent. A short laugh shook your frame as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, well - it might well be the last time you walk in here to see me behind the bar,” you shrugged, and Bradley stiffened in your arms, his eyes widening. “No,” he whispered, anguished almost that the only constant in his adult life would be leaving him. “You’re not leaving?” he asked, forgoing adding ‘me’ at the end of the sentence.Your soft smile didn’t placate him as it usually did, and he only found comfort as your palm rose to cradle his scarred cheek.

“I’m afraid so, Rooster.” you confirmed “I’ve been working towards a degree, and I graduated a while back. I’ve got three weeks left at the Hard Deck before I start my dream job,” Bradley’s head was spinning. How did he not know this? Sure, he had your number but you’d only told him of the fun shenanigans that you got up to at the bar. That was when it hit him that he never asked. He never asked for anything else. He wanted to cry and scream, pull his hair and kick himself hard. Why would he take your presence here for granted?

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d graduated? Sugar… I’m sorry I didn’t make it,” he was so confused, he barely knew what he was saying. He was spiraling, thoughts of how lonely he’d be after training at Top Gun again if you weren’t here spinning endlessly in his mind.

You were silent, taking in the haunted look that shone in Bradley’s amber eyes. A look you hadn’t seen before, and one you were sure you never wanted to see again.

“Bradley, I’m- I’m sorry,” you didn’t know what for, but it seemed to rouse Rooster “No, sweetheart… sugar, no. I just,” he trailed off. You smiled at his rambling, and noticed he’d reached up to rub his nose again - that got a giggle out of you and Rooster furrowed his brows before a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

“I’m not leaving you, Rooster,” you clarified “Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” you added “Now, will you be leaving me tomorrow?” your voice had gone almost hard, as if steeling yourself for the answer. Bradley shook his head.

“Nope. Stationed here for at least a month to train for a mission,” a gasp threatened to fly past your lips at the revelation. He’d be here. For four weeks. That’s the longest he’d stayed since that first time ten years ago.

“Well, then you’ll catch my last day,” you smiled at him, leaning in closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” Bradley blurted out as your thumb had started to gently caress his cheeks, that warm, fuzzy feeling overcoming him again. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured out that that feeling hadn’t come from the liquor you were serving him, it was just you.

“I’ve only been waiting ten years,” you smiled, clutching his shirt between your other hand. Bradley chuckled, his face inching closer to yours, his breath fanning over your face before his warm lips connected with yours. He felt like home, warm, inviting, comforting. Bradley sighed in content, tightening his hold on you, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“And serve over ice.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #callsign-phoenix’s-1k #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #my writing

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pmitchell · 2 years

Note

god. i love your writing ❤️‍🔥 so heres another request: working out with rooster and you tease him by sitting on his hips when hes doing bench presses

I don't really write for Rooster, but thank you soo much for sending this in! I hope you don’t mind that I tweaked this a little. Please do tell me what you think ♥️

ticklish. | bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

warnings: none, really!

pairings: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader

word count: 620 (3 minutes reading time)

author’s notes: A short and sweet one right here! Tell me what you think but please be nice. hahaha. For some reason I prefer it if reader is a civilian instead of a naval aviator too because I can relate more that way. Just me? Ok :)

Your boyfriend Bradley Bradshaw often gets deployed for a few weeks at a time. So whenever he gets to come home, you try your best to spend as much time with him as possible. Even during workouts. You didn’t like his type of workouts; the kind that involves high intensity, weights, or speed to maintain his figure, so the two of you compromised and made a small home gym where you could do both workouts that you loved.

After about 45 minutes of yoga and cooling off, you decided to lie around on your yoga mat, catching your breath. Rooster had just finished his pull ups and decided to walk over to you.

“Come on, no slacking off,” he said, offering his hand so he could pull you up to your feet.

“No,” you whined in protest.

The man chuckled, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow. He squatted down and left a kiss on your lips before walking across the room to do his bench presses. You could hear his heavy breathing from where you were lying down; you decided to roll over onto your stomach and watch him. On his second lift, you walked up to him and sat on the floor right next to him. Rooster was fully concentrated that he didn’t see you or your index finger coming when you poked him in the waist, causing him to jolt.

“Babe!” He complained, trying to sound stern but really he was struggling to hold his laughs back.

You poked him again and giggled. He was trying so hard to hold the weights up and keep it stable while squirming away from your finger.

“Babe, stop it!” Rooster laughed, trying so hard to balance the weights as he tries to put it back on the power rack overhead. Managing to balance the barbell there, he ducked away from the rack and then proceeded to tackle you onto the floor.

“You wanna mess with me, huh?” Rooster asked, pinning you with his body. He started to tickle you and you shrieked and laughed against him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you gasped breathlessly, roaring with laughter under his torture. “Baby! S-stop!” you begged in the middle of your laughter. Your hands caught his larger one and balled his fingers into a fist, but his other one was still wriggling about your skin.

“Beg for your life,” he threatened playfully, still pinning you down and tickling you to no end.

“Rooster, please,” you begged, suddenly shrieking when he touched a particularly ticklish spot and then laughing again. “I can’t breathe,” you gasped. “Please, please, please, I’m sorry,” you tried to apologize but still having a hard time doing it because of how much he was torturing you.

“Do you admit defeat?” He asked, stopping his tickles to give you space to answer.

“No,” you giggled. He gasped and went back to tickle you. “Yes! Yes! I surrender,” you retracted your words in the midst of your laughter.

“Alright, answer these questions correctly and I’ll stop,” he said. “Are you sorry?” He asked, stopping to let you answer.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Do you love me?” He asked again.

“Yes,” you replied, grinning.

“Do you think I’m handsome?” He asked.

“Um...” you teased, but as soon as he widened his eyes, you immediately exclaimed, “Yes! Yes!” You giggled, hand holding his wrist to stop him from attacking you again.

“Are you gonna take a shower with me after this?”

“Yes,” you giggled again.

“Good answer,” he nodded definitively. “Alright, you’re forgiven, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Rooster said, pressing a quick yet deep kiss on your lips. He moved back and stood up, pulling you up with him, leading you straight to the shower.

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

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sailor-aviator · 1 month

Text

Bubbles

Story: Down By the Bay

Love Interest: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Writing was a noble effort, but very few were able to make it anything other than a hobby. A person needed a story that others could sink their teeth into, really devour.

Bubbles is invited to the island of North Island by her favorite cousin, Skipper. Only a year or two older, the girls grew up thick as thieves, but the responsibilities of life caused the two to grow somewhat distant. After a much needed gab session via phone, Bubbles laments about her writer's block, and is subsequently invited to hang out with her cousin and her friends over the summer. Needing a vacation, how was Bubbles to say no? Renting a cottage just outside of town, she searches for inspiration in the small, coastal town.

However, she may have gotten more than she bargained for when her cousin's friend, Bradley, starts acting weird around her and there's an FBI agent poking his nose around asking about mermaids of all things. What on earth is going on in this town?

A/N: Here's Bubbles!! The long awaited and much requested spin-off is coming soon to a blog near you!

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onlyvrse · 2 years

Text

new tactics

“is this some kind of new flirting tactic no one gave me a heads up about?”

“i'm sorry?”

summary: rooster catches you staring.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: unprotected seggs (be safe kids), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, handjob, soft!dom rooster, very subby reader, very fluffy smut, aloooot of pillow talk (the good kind though), rooster is whipped within 3 hours

a/n: i'm feral for this man, and deeply, deeply in love with him. that is all. very mildly proof read

word count: 3.9k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you trace your ring finger over the rim of your bottle, biting at your bottom lip as you watch a man with a pornstache, that surprisingly does wonders for him, break out into a child-like dance after his performance, shuffling and spinning with a stupid grin on his face. you watch as he fixes the aviators that had slipped to the tip of his nose while he was singing, giving everyone a stupidly gorgeous smile as they chant his name.

rooster! rooster! rooster!

you’d been gawking at this man the moment you realised you were in the same vicinity as him. ever since he’d drawn the entire bars attention to himself by playing a rendition of ‘great balls of fire’- you’re fairly certain your panties weren’t the only pair that had dropped for him. unbeknownst to you, however, he always noticed when you’re eyes were on him. he’d catch you just the millisecond you look away, and his ego grew mountains everytime you were unknowingly caught ogling. a dark-haired girl stands beside you, asking the bartender for a beer. “his name’s rooster,” she chimes, and you make eye contact with her, visibly confused. “what?” “the guy you’ve been drooling over, name’s rooster.” fuck. “was i that obvious?” she giggles, thanking the bartender before sipping at her beer as she nods. “you picked probably one of the best from the lot, though, so props to you.” she motions her beer at the other men in uniform, watching as a blonde haired man smacks one of his friends in the abdomen. before you can ask anymore questions, she’s gone- presumably rejoining her uniformed group after grabbing another drink.

“is this some kind of new flirting tactic no one gave me a heads up about?” a deep voice rattles you out of your thoughts, and you turn around to see your eye candy from before.

“i'm sorry?”

“you’ve been staring at me all night, any particular reason why?” you curse yourself in your head the second he says this, but, there’s no turning back now. “you’re an attractive guy, no?” he seems taken aback by the remark, like he hadn’t prepared for that sort of answer, he tilts his head slightly. “that so?” you hum in response to his question, taking the last sip of your drink as he sits on the stool beside you. “you’re fairly straightforward, uh,” you smile, “y/n.” “you’re fairly straightforward, y/n.” you nod as he leans the tiniest bit closer to you. “i mean, you already caught me staring, would you have preferred me to act all innocent, mr?” he shrugs, contemplating on what to say. “name’s bradley bradshaw, but my friends call me rooster- and uh, i'm not sure actually. honestly i thought you’d have told me to piss off the second i walked up to you.” you laugh at his revelation, he smiles at the sound. “well. what did you want to happen when you walked up to me, rooster?” he smirks at this question, shit-eating-grin on display as he shuffles in his seat. “well of course, i’d have swept you off of your feet and we’d be back at my place by now, darlin’.” he says, a playful lilt in his voice. your eyebrow quips at this, accompanied with a small smile, and he reads your expression- slightly worried for your response.

“i’m joking by the-” “are you asking me to fuck you, bradley?” you cut him off, and he’s taken aback for the second time tonight. “i mean, if you want i was kind of like joking and all but if you want to that’d be cool too like-” his rambling’s cut off when your lips meet his and he gasps against you, taken aback for the third time tonight. his left hand lands on your waist and he kisses back, softly- like he’s making sure you want this. “you’re very straightforward, y/n.” you place a hand on his thigh and feel him tense under your touch, “that a good thing or a bad thing, bradshaw?” “it’s making it very hard for me to try ‘nd be a gentleman.” he speaks softly, thumb drawing circles on your waist. “asking me to fuck you, was being a gentleman?” you joke and he throws his head back and whines- “i genuinely wasn’t serious, i hope y’know. m’ happy to sit here and get to know you.” you gulp when he throws his head back, watching his adam’s apple bob when he speaks, too enticed by his physique to note the genuine confession. “you’ve charmed your way past drinks and chit-chat, rooster. we can do that after.” you don’t know where the sudden burst of confidence came from, maybe it was the growing heat in your core but nonetheless, you smile and extend an arm. “after?” he quips.

“fuck being a gentleman, just for tonight?”

he beams at this, gladly taking your hand and fiddling with his pocket to fish out his keys. you giggle at this, and he looks up at you, “what’s so funny?” you smile. “you being excited for a fuck.” you sing, swaying in your spot. “s’not just gonna be a fuck, i hope you know that, doll.” it’s your turn to question, “what’s that supposed to mean?” he grins, widely, tilting his head to watch where he’s going as he guides you out of the crowded bar. he looks over his shoulder, grin still beaming, he winks. “s’gonna be a lot more than just a fuck.”

the drive there is unbearably long, you can already feel the wet patch in your underwear growing at the thought of what would happen when the two of you arrived at his place. it’s mostly quiet, the sexual tension so thick you were so close to straddling him while he was driving. you watch as one of his hands let go of the steering wheel, taking its place on your bare thigh, you shiver slightly at the feeling. you watch as he smirks, noticing your reaction but eyes still on the road. his thumb begins to drag up and down your thigh, his hand shifting up closer to the hem of your dress. you’re about to jokingly ask him how good he is at multitasking- but you pull into the driveway.

once he’s stopped the car and taken the keys out of the ignition you’re on top of him, ignoring whatever you bumped into on the transition from the passenger seat to the drivers, and you’re kissing him desperately. “fuck, someone’s keen,” he breathes out between kisses and you bite at his bottom lip as you pull away, “just shut up and kiss me rooster.” he grins. “yes ma’am.” he slides his tongue in your mouth and you whine at the feeling, unknowingly grinding against his crotch as you do so. this elicits a deep groan from the man under you, both of his hands on your waist as you tug at the hairs on the back of his head. his hand wraps around your throat gently as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, your hands clutching at the button up shirt he’s wearing- you feel the outline of his hard on against your clothed cunt and you grind against him, slower this time as you look at him. his grip on your neck tightens slightly.

“fuck, keep going like that and i’ll cum here like i’m fucking sixteen again” he mutters out.

“been high and dry for a while, have you?” “you’ve no idea.” you giggle before his lips crash onto yours again, both of his hands resting on both sides of your face as you moan into the kiss, desperate for any sort of friction. he bucks his hips up slightly and you moan as you feel his erection against your growing arousal, “inside, now- please.” you mumble out and he chuckles, “so polite, darlin’.” he opens the door for you and you manoeuvre your way out of his lap, stumbling slightly when your feet hit the ground. he’s not far behind you, you almost jump hearing the click of the bronco locking behind you. he motions for the door, “ladies first,” he mumbles and you nod, giggling, “why thank you, bradley.” walking towards the front of his house.

once his front door is locked, his hands grab for your ass as he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he leans you against the door- kissing you like a man starved. he’s getting rougher- not that you minded. he kneads the fat of your ass in both of his hands as your left hand is on the side of his face, the other tugging desperately at his dark hair. he licks, bites and sucks his way down your neck, no doubt leaving a constellation of purple and red in its wake. he walks you both towards the couch, laying you down softly. he’s on top of you now, both of you grabbing for anything you can reach, heavily panting. he slides a finger along your clothed core and you moan, “fuck, you’re soaked. i haven’t even done anything.” he mumbles out and you grind against his hand. “ah ah,” he says before sitting up straight. you send him a confused look and he pats his thigh, motioning for you to sit. you straddle him and he laughs, you frown. now you’re even more confused. “not both, just the one, darlin’.” “huh?”

“you said fuck being a gentleman, so, doll, why should i have to do it for you?” you shudder when you realise the meaning of his words. “i can wait here all day, sweetheart.” he speaks out, leaning his back against the couch, an arm resting over the top of it as he makes himself comfy. you look at him, anxiously gnawing at your bottom lip. he laughs softly before giving in and sitting up. “d’ya want some help, baby?” he coos, smiling at your nervous figure. you nod shyly, and a hand meets your hips, pulling you closer to him before pushing you back. you whine at the friction, not expecting it to even feel good when you’d sat on his right thigh. “there you go,” he whispers, guiding your hips as you gain rhythm. “wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” you hum a “nuh uh” in response, his hand resting on the side of your face while the other guides your hips- he smirks, watching the way your face scrunches up in pleasure everytime your clothed clit gets enough friction against the denim. “y’look so pretty like this, y/n. doing so well, love.” you moan at the praise, grabbing his face to kiss him as you continue to selfishly grind against the fabric of his jeans. you fumble for the zipper of his pants and he smiles against your lips, “so needy.” he untucks himself from his pants and you begin lazily stroking at his already hard length, then it dawns on you that you can barely wrap your hand around it.

you halt your hips movements, and he quips an eyebrow at you, watching as you marvel over his dick. “is it that impressive, doll?” he chuckles, guiding your hips to start moving again, “it.. it won’t fit?” you say, voice barely a whisper as you continue to stroke up and down his length. “it will sweetheart, don’t worry m’gonna take care of you.” you nod before continuing to get yourself off on his thigh, both of your moans filling the room as you throw your head back, he takes the opportunity to latch onto your neck again, sucking and kissing. you feel him smile against you when your breath shortens at the feeling, his hand reaches up to grope your breast and you whine when he takes your nipple between his fingers. “m-more, roos please.” he looks up at you when you call him that, and you swear you could cum just by the look he gives you. “cute.” he murmurs before helping you out of your dress, halting your movements so you can hold your arms up while he undresses you. “so pretty,” he mumbles before gliding his hands up and down your bare waist, you continue your movement- desperately trying to reach your climax as he sucks on your nipple. you let a combination of a yelp and a moan out when you feel him bite down slightly, dragging his tongue along your chest until he gets to the other breast.

you tease the slit of his dick with your thumb and he groans, tensing his thighs which causes you to whimper at the new angles to get yourself off on. you’re going much faster now, hand lazily stroking him as you aim to release your pending high, “m’gonna, fuck.” he smiles softly at your dazed state, helping you get off on him by moving your hips at the same pace you were at before you began to falter. “s’okay darlin’ i got you.” and you let yourself come undone. your thighs tremble against his and you feel a hand wrap around your waist to stable you, your head falling onto his shoulder as you let out a string of broken moans, wincing at the sensitivity of your core. when you catch your breath, you let your gaze trail to the wet patch of his jeans and he grins, grabbing your chin so you look at him. “look at the mess you made sweetheart, so needy for me.” he taps your chin teasingly and you kiss him softly, planting open mouthed kisses from his jaw to his neck, before grabbing at his shirt. “off, please” you mumble out and he laughs against you, stripping himself of his hawaiian shirt and the white tank underneath, “so polite, darlin’.” your breath hitches at the sight of him, hand tracing over his toned abs, you feel him tense slightly at your touch. you halt your movements, letting your hand back off and he grabs it, “sorry- no one’s touched me like that in a while, s’all.” “no?” you quip, and he shakes his head. “the last few before you just wanted a quick fuck, you’re more, gentle? i guess? i’m not sure.” he speaks, letting his hands wander down your sides, and you resume tracing over the ridges of his stomach. “mm,” you hum, “y’gonna take me out for dinner, roos?” he smiles at this. “‘course, baby.” you kiss him, and you whine when you feel him hook your underwear to the side, gathering your slick with his fingers.

you reposition yourself to straddle him now, hovering above him slightly as he teases your entrance with the tip of his dick, and you’re bracing yourself for the stretch. “we don’t have to, you know that right?” you smile at him and shake your head. “i wanna.” you mumble before slowly lowering yourself onto his length, you whimper when just his tip is inside, already stretching you and he holds your hips in place so you don’t sink any lower. “s’okay darlin’ i got you, take your time.” he coos, brushing a hair out of your face as he watches your breath quicken, you lower yourself a little more, getting accustomed to the unfamiliar stretch. you place your hands on his shoulders, feeling the muscles under your fingers as you fully lower yourself onto him, the two of you moaning at the feeling. you sink your nails into his shoulder, hearing him hiss quietly at the sensation, he rubs circles on your back, soothing you as it takes all of his control to not rut his hips into you relentlessly right here, right now. you breathe out, “okay, m’okay- i think,” you whisper out before lifting your hips and dropping them again slowly. rooster throws his head back onto the couch at this, feeling your walls around him and your pretty sounds driving him insane.

he kisses your cheek, letting his hand rest on the side of your face as you continue to bounce on his length at a slow pace, feeling the ridges of the veins going in and out of you. “how’s it feel, doll? you’re okay?” he asks, tenderly rubbing circles on your lower back. you nod, broken moans leaving your mouth as you struggle to maintain a rhythm with your hips, gripping tightly onto his shoulders as he places kisses along your collarbone, mumbling little praises every chance he gets. “fuck, y’so big roos.” “that’s okay, baby, want me to do it?“ he quips and you nod, watching as he smiles softly at you before repositioning the two of you so your back is against the couch and he’s on top of you. he reenters you slowly and you gasp, getting used to the way he fills you up to the brim, “you alright, love?” you smile in response, reaching your hands into his hair and tugging when he hits a certain spot inside of you. “you were so confident before, doll, what happened?” he smirks when he asks this, thrusting into you painfully slowly before pushing the last of his cock in abruptly, you moan at this- loudly, “too fucked out to talk, huh?” you whimper at his words, gripping tighter on his hair as a response. “m-more, please.” “you sure you can take it?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, and you nod a little too enthusiastically.

this is all he needs to start rutting into you relentlessly, it takes you a second to process, but soon you’re cursing out and letting out a string of broken moans and whines as he continues at a pace that’s so incredibly new to you it makes you see stars. “look at that, baby, m’filling you up so well.” he traces a hand over the bulge on your lower stomach, you look down to see it as well and you throw your head back with a moan, his lips attaching to your neck the second you do so. you’re dragging your nails down his back, surely leaving some sort of mark as he continues to abuse your already sensitive heat. “how’s it feel, doll? talk to me,” he groans out, and you can barely utter a word. “s’good, fuck- feels so good, roos.” he moans lowly at the nickname, peppering kisses anywhere he can reach, forehead, temple, cheek, shoulder. “you look so pretty like this, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.” you whimper at his non-stop praise, the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone every time his dick hits the right spot inside of you, you dig your nails into his skin again and he breathes out heavily. “so close,” you cry, “fuck!” is the last thing that leaves your mouth when your body begins to shake uncontrollably, your second orgasm taking you by complete surprise, back arching off of the couch as your vision blanks for a brief second, the only thing you feel is rooster’s thick length thrusting in and out of you. you’re panting now, so overwhelmed by your second orgasm you don’t notice his hand is on the side of your face again, “you alright, love?” you nod, biting your lip to suppress another moan as his pubic hair brushes against your sensitive clit when he pushes inside of you.

his pace starts to falter slightly, deep grunts coming from the man above you and you kiss and lick at his neck, continuing to play with his hair. “shit, where do i-” “inside, roos- please,” you whine out and he curses under his breath when the words leave your pretty little lips. thinking about how they’d feel around his cock, but that’s for another time. “i can take it, promise,” you whisper out and that’s all it takes for him to come undone, seeing you all pretty and innocent under him, while being the complete and utter opposite. a string of profanities leaves him as he thrusts into you as deep as he can, making sure you take every last drop. “holy shit,” he breathes out, as if comprehending what exactly had just happened. “thank fuck i walked up to you.” he says, rather breathlessly, actually, and the two of you laugh as he collapses on top of you, although consciously keeping the majority of his weight off of you with a hand on the couch. both of you wince slightly when he pulls out, and you giggle to yourself watching him half jog to another room shirtless and sweaty. you raise an eyebrow when he comes back with a damp towel, and you gasp when he presses it to your core, “what’re you- oh. you really are a gentleman.” “what? guys don’t clean you up after sex?” “no? i mean you’re the first in a while but still, no?” he seems baffled by this as he continues to gather up the mess as best he can before returning your underwear to its original placing. he returns after putting the towel away somewhere, extending a hand to you as you’ve sat up on his couch, gathering the fabric of your discarded dress to cover your bare chest.

he grins before talking, “can ya stand?” and you shoot him a glare, wanting to prove him wrong. but the second your legs straighten up above the hardwood floor you stumble into the man in front of you, astonished that your legs felt like jelly. you look up at him and he’s still smiling like an idiot, “oh shut up.” “i didn’t even say anything!” “yeah but you looked at me funny!” he throws his head back in laughter, and you join him. but suddenly you’re thrown across his shoulder, ass sticking up in the air as you flail in his grasp, “rooster!” you cry out and he laughs, smacking your ass playfully while you do the same shortly after, you did have the best angle for it after all. he almost stops walking when your hand meets his behind and you cackle at the confused reaction. he shakes his head with a smile before continuing to walk, placing you down on the bed while he rummages through some drawers, handing you a shirt. you thank him with a kind mumble as he changes out of his jeans, opting for a pair of sweats as he climbs into his bed with a dramatic groan. you giggle as you glance over at him, face planted in to the bed as you move yourself closer to him, looking at him amused when he lifts his head to smile at you lazily, “oh, hello.” he mumbles and your laughter continues, softly rubbing his still sweaty back as he abruptly grabs you by the waist, turning around so you’re laying in his arms. “hello,” you mumble back.

in a half dozed state, you learn through conversation that he’s a naval aviator, much to your surprise. he tells you about his missions and his pain-in-the-ass comrades that he deals with on a daily basis, the story behind his callsign and the fact that his parents have passed. in return, less interestingly you tell him about your studies and your less-than-average job. you’re running your hands through his hair, his head on your chest.

“so, was it a good tactic lieutenant?”

“very, but you don’t have to be too worried about using it on anyone else, sweetheart. i'm not letting you go anytime soon.” you giggle at his response, continuing to play with his hair in a soothing manner. he lifts his head up, kissing you again.

“fuck, c’mere- i cant get enough of you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

pfff it’s finally here! sorry it took so long, likes and reblogs appreciated :)

tag list: @luckyladycreator2

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster smut #top gun maverick #rooster #top gun 2022 #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic

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disturbedbeautywrites · 2 years

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Routine - Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw Imagine

A/N: so I’ve had rooster brain rot for a few days now and decided to type up this cute little blurb. Hope you guys enjoy it! ❤️

Living with a naval aviator meant that almost every day had a routine. The day started the same way and usually ended the same way at the same time. Unfortunately, for you, this even included weekends.

You had been living with rooster for a few months now, your relationship becoming close to the 2 year mark and the routine felt normal now. It was Saturday morning, the sun wasn’t even up yet, but you found yourself rolling over in bed to check the time on the alarm clock. It was 6:30, which meant Bradley would be waking up any minute now.

You say there for a few seconds, arms soon wrapping around your waist as you got pulled into your boyfriends strong chest. “‘Morning gorgeous.” The sleepiness in his voice was evident as he buried his face into your hair, leaving little kisses down along your neck. Man, he sure knew how to give you goosebumps and butterflies, even after 2 years together.

You smiled, your arms snaking over his as you let out a content sigh. “Good morning, handsome.” You managed to wiggle in his grip, turning around to face him. Your eyes met his, his arms holding you close as you moved your arms up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He had a lazy smile on his lips, your eyes running over every feature on his face. “What time do you have to meet Mav today?” The two of them had been working on fixing up an old plane Maverick had in his hanger, and it had become one of Bradley’s favorite parts of the week.

Bradley thought for a moment and you could see the thoughts turning over in his head before he had an answer for you. “10:30, oh and Penny was wanting you to have a girls day with her and Amelia if you aren’t too busy today.” His lips found your forehead before he carefully rolled away and from you and started to get out of bed. “Meet me in the kitchen for breakfast, my love?”

Saturdays and Sundays were usually your school days, seeing as you were in school and working full time at the Hard Deck Monday through Friday to make enough to get by. But, a girls day did sound fun. Of course, you sometimes hung out with Phoenix and the rest of the dagger squad when they all decided to get together. This would be different, though. “I can take a break from homework today and go hangout with them. That sounds fun.” You soon followed him out of bed, stretching as your feet made contact with the wooden floors in your bedroom.

As you were making your way downstairs, you could already hear the radio in the kitchen playing music and you could hear your boyfriend singing along. You giggled as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him gather ingredients to use to cook. “Enjoying the show?” His voice made you absolutely grin as you nodded, walking towards him.

He sat the ingredients down, taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers through yours. He started to dance with you around the kitchen, your laughter overlapping with the music as his big t shirt swayed around with you. Rooster flashed back to Maverick saying that the two of you reminded him of his parents, always happy and unafraid to be yourselves; no matter who was or wasn’t watching. Hell, he remembered on your second date, the two of you danced like this on the patio of the hard deck. It was your favorite part of your relationship.

“I can’t wait to marry you one day.” The words came out of Bradley’s mouth as easily as he thought them, causing you to smile up at him. It was the first time he had ever actually vocalized the words, and it made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Well, whenever you’re ready for that, Bradshaw. I’ll be here saying yes.” He leaned down and captured your lips in a fiery kiss, breakfast temporarily forgotten about as he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter.

#bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw imagines #Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagines #Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagine #top gun imagine #top gun imagines #rooster imagine #rooster imagines #rooster fanfic #rooster fluff #rooster fanfiction #Bradley rooster Bradshaw fanfic #Bradley rooster Bradshaw fanfiction

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promisingyounglady · 1 month

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bradley bradshaw. | TOP GUN MAVERICK

oneshots:

stranger.

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valhallaas · 1 year

Text

How Sweet It Is (to be loved by you)

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni) oral (female receiving)

Summary: Bradley teaches you a lesson about patience

A/N: i’m back. i don’t know what this is, but i kind of like it lol feedback is appeciated, and as always, enjoy!

It’s your idea to invite everyone over. To set out finger food, soda and beer. Even the liquor cabinet is unlocked. Maybe that’s what’s gotten into you. You’ve downed three cranberry vodkas already and the night is still young. Bob and Natasha are setting up the karaoke machine in the living room. With this much liquid courage running through your veins, there is no doubt that you’ll be the star of the show. You sway to the music in the kitchen, no one notices your absence. You were the resident lightweight, one of Bradley’s favorite things about you. It makes you fun, you’re always so serious, mama. Sometimes you need to let loose. Your gaze drifts over to the said man occupying your mind. He’s sitting at the dining room table with the others playing a game of poker. From what you can tell, Jake is wiping the table. It isn’t your game–terrible poker face, but you could always call someone else’s bluff.

Tilting your head, you stare at him. Bradley, Rooster. The only person you allow to call you uptight. Because, well, maybe you are. Maybe he needs to fuck it out of you. You don’t know how long you’ve been staring, but it’s long enough for him to feel it. His eyes snap up to yours, an easy going smile taking up his face. You do your best to smile back, lifting your glass to your lips and downing the rest of it. Bradley’s eyebrows raise at the action, a knowing look passing his eyes. Shit. Shit. You’ve been found out. If you’re good at calling people’s bluffs, Bradley is good at calling yours. He doesn’t have to look so cocky about it, though. You huff, biting your lip as your husband pushes back his chair and makes his way to you. The guys shout in protest, but you both ignore them, too caught up in each other.

You watch as he rounds the counter, arms snaking around you, caging you in. Melting into his embrace you rest your head on his chest. Sea salt and bergamot. A soft whine escapes you when he kisses the top of your head, his cinnamon flavored breath fanning over you. Tilting your head back up, you don’t make it to his amused gaze. Sighing, your hands run up his arms, rubbing at his shoulders, scratching up the back of his neck. One hand trails back down, index finger catching the chain hidden under his shirt. You thumb at the dog tags, the imprint of his name against your skin. It’s the silver band that has your attention. It used to bother you that he never wore it on his ring finger. Used to make you not want to wear your own. But you understand now; feeling Bradley’s heartbeat under your hand as you fiddle with the ring.

"What's gotten into you?" he grins, taking you by the chin. Taking in your flushed cheeks and pouty lip, his grin only grows. "Jesus. Baby, don't you go looking at me like that. It'll do things to a man."

You crinkle your nose, jutting out your lip even more. You don't even have to say anything, he knows exactly what your look means. The effect it's having on him is obvious. Bradley groans softly in his throat, readjusting himself in jeans. His gaze lingers on you before moving to the rest of the table. "Mama, please. Can't you wait just a little longer?"

With the eyes of the dagger squad still on you, you decide it best not to make a scene. Lord knows they’d never let you live it down. Begrudgingly, you sigh and allow Bradley to free up a second chair. Falling into the seat given to you, a polite smile flashed at Jake and Javy. Everyone here is family, a family built on trust and mutual respect. You aren't a pilot, and have no desire to live in the clouds. But everyone loves you all the same, and because you’re Bradley’s wife, they care for you just the same. They learned to read you and your moods just as they had with Bradley. Jake grins at you, but doesn’t say a word. The other three watch you, but they keep most of their conversations directed towards Bradley.

Their chatter drags on for close to an hour, occasionally rising to an ungodly loud volume when they roar with laughter. You don’t know what’s funny enough to have Jake about falling out of his chair, as long as he’s having a good time, you suppose. Chin resting against your palm, you listen with mild disinterest. Another ten minutes passes by until you decide that you have been patient long enough. Discreetly under the table, you nudge Bradley’s calf with your foot, trying to get his attention. When he moves it away, unaware of your intentions, you huff in annoyance. He’s too caught up in his conversation with Mickey to notice when you kick your sandal off. While keeping a bored face, you slide your toes up the inside of one of his spread thighs, stopping when you reach his crotch. That gets his attention.

Grunting at the contact, Bradley plays it off the best he can. His hand grabs your foot under the table, squeezing it in warning. You’ve never really been good with subtle clues. Pursing your lips, you tug your foot back and he releases it. You wait for their conversation to go on a while longer before trying again. This time you will succeed.

Bradley doesn't release your foot. His grip is firm, but not hurting you. Thumb rubbing up the arch of your foot and digging into the sole. It makes you jump hard enough your knee whacks the table. It makes you want to moan. Fuck, it doesn’t matter where he’s touching you, he’s always good with his hands. When a shaky sigh leaves you, he scoots out his chair and turns to you.

“Is there something you need from me?” he murmurs low in your ear.

Eyeing him up and down, you slowly pull your foot away from him and stand to your feet. His hands are grasping your hips, keeping you from escaping. Shaking your head, your teeth bite at the inside of your cheek as your thighs rub together.

“Don’t need anything that you’re not willing to give, Bradshaw.”

His eyes darken, the hazel being drowned out. He scoots back, allowing you to pass. He’s on you within seconds. In your bedroom, the door shut, he’s flush against you. Nose bumping against yours, he's holding you to him, and you whine, because god, this is all you’ve wanted. It’s all you’ve thought about all day. You tried to be good, really, you did. But Bradley is a goddamn drug and so, so good to you.

He takes your face between his hands and slides his tongue into your mouth. Sighing, you count one, two, three steps before he has you pinned against the wall of your bedroom. Shaky hands slip underneath his cotton shirt, sliding your palms against the expanse of his abdomen. You grin when his muscles clench at the light touch. You trace the line of hair that disappears into his jeans, and when you reach for the button of his pants, he bites down on your lip.

A gasp at the silent reprimand, and before you can run your tongue to sooth the bite, he’s already on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties down and tossing them over his shoulder. Bradley kisses your thigh when he hoists a leg over his shoulder. He gives you no time to process in your slightly drunken state what’s happening before he uses his thumb and forefinger to part you and drags his tongue up to your clit.

Gasping, your knees buckle and you reach for a handful of his hair to steady yourself.

“Bradley,” You moan, hips already moving to match the pace of his tongue. “I—” Your eyes roll back and your head drops against the wall, the muscles in your thighs already beginning to shake in anticipation of the orgasm coiling tightly in your stomach.

The creak of the hall bathroom door sounds, echoing through the silence of your bedroom. Your eyes open, tilting your chin to stare down at Bradley. His eyes are hard, wild, dangerous. Everything you’re wanting and there is no stopping, there is no slowing down. No one can see you in here, they’d have to walk in. You lick your lips, eyes flying to the door right across from you. Bradley, well aware of the situation, only adds more pressure to the quick flicks of his tongue on your clit, you squeak in warning as a set of footsteps pass right by the door. You inhale a shaking breath, doing nothing for you as the voices of Natasha and Bob ring out over the music. Fuck, you forgot about karaoke.

“Come on, mama,” he murmurs against you, and you catch a flash of his smile as he looks up at you. “Count. Let's see how long it takes.”

“Are you insane?” you hiss, eyes darting to the door once again.

A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you glance down to see a red mark in the shape of his teeth on your inner thigh. “Did you just fucking bite me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it. Now count.” There’s no denying the threat in his voice. The threat of him keeping you away from your release until you do what he says.

His lips find your clit again, and while there's a part of you that knows that this isn’t a good idea, you cannot bring yourself to care. He wanted you fun, he wanted you loose. So here you are bearing it all. If his friends just so happen to be witnesses to it, well, that’s on you. He told you to wait. No, this isn’t a bad idea, not when you lace your fingers through his hair and start to count.

“One, two, three…five, seven, um…” You swallow back a moan and clench your eyes shut trying to focus. “ I lost count, do I have to start over?” His teeth graze your clit and you jump at the rush of pleasure that shoots through you. “I’m not starting over— fifteen, sixteen…oh god, Bradley.” You grind yourself against him, digging your fingers into his shoulders. “Oh, my god. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty…twenty-seven.”

Your eyes close, letting your body lose itself to the rhythm of his tongue. To the feel of him slipping a thick finger inside you, to the heightened sensation of goosebumps racing up your chest.

“Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty, thirty— oh —” you give up on counting when your stomach tenses. Your legs nearly give out, and you tug on his hair so hard you're surprised it's not ripping out of his head.

You moan his name. Loud.

Right before you have the sense to be embarrassed, your orgasm floods you, setting your body on fire and lighting up every nerve in its wake. Bradley jumps to his feet, your shorts already in his hands, he’s holding you up while dressing you. Your legs shake against him. Your knees buckle a bit when he finally pulls back. Your head rolls against the wall until your cheek presses against the cool surface and you moan softly with each after shock pulsing through you, quaking through your trembling body.

Bradley smooths out your shirt, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He takes your chin and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You sigh, tasting his cinnamon gum and you mingled together. It was a heady mix. He wraps his arms around you and opens the door, leading you down the hallway. It’s the flood of music and the mental haze of your orgasm leaving that reminds you that you just came. You came loudly with your house full of people. You freeze, bare feet sliding against the hardwood floor as Bradley keeps you forward.

“Do you, do you think they heard?” You whisper, tilting your head up.

“Oh, they one hundred percent heard. Bob might be nice and pretend that he didn’t.” There is no mistaking the air of satisfaction radiating from him.

“Oh my god.”

You bury your head in your hands as you round into the kitchen. The poker game has been abandoned. Everyone is in the living room, picking out their choice song for the singing competition about to take place. Bradley clears his throat, making everyone turn and stare. You’re sure you could fry eggs from how hot your cheeks are. They know. All of them. Poor Bob can’t meet your eyes. You sigh, flopping down on the couch.

You didn’t feel like singing anymore. Not that it matters, everyone knows you’re the real winner tonight anyway.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw one shot #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfic

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stargazing15 · 1 year

Text

When I'm not around

Rooster x AFAB! reader

Summary: You and Rooster had been hooking up for a while now, only thing no one could know. You had your pleasure and he had his. That was enough, right?

Warnings: Bradley is an asshole, angst, smut, 18+ MDNI

A/N: inspired by Jessie Murph’s When I’m not Around

Everywhere Rooster went, you were there too, after all you were his technician. He only trusted his precious bird with you, and those couple others he had to accept working on his plane. But you were not only his technician, also his dirty little secret.

It has always been special, during work the aviators had respect towards you and vice versa. But once off base, things were differently, the respect for technicians had faded and the aviator's ego's took over in public. You got labeled as 'just a technician', they were doing all the cool and important work.

Ever since Rooster saw you taking care of his plane with so much love and passion after a scare, not minding how dirty you got or how long it took, only eyes for his plane and asking him about the behaviour of the plane and some additional info so you could fix it, not just patch it up. As if you could feel all of the plane. He was amazed and in trance seeing you work so passionately on his precious baby that he got very excited in a place he never expected. He had never been this hard in life without being touched yet.

With you and your working uniform completely covered in grease and oil, Rooster unexpectedly joined you in the shower helping you clean up and thanking you in other ways you never imagined. At first you were surprised he would want you, you were not as pretty as the girls he took home from the bar, but you weren’t ugly either, you were … rather average.

From that day on you got assigned as Rooster’s technician, as he didn’t trust his plane in the hand of any other technician anymore. And something else, Rooster would fuck you after debriefs, after your last check-up on his plane of the day and eventually after his hookups weren’t satisfying him, because he knows you always would.

Things became so regular he even had spare clothes and a toothbrush at your place. You knew he was never going to look at you when you were at the same bar. But deep inside you started longing, longing for him to stop sleeping with others, longing for him to hold you, not to keep you a secret, not to talk low of you once you left base, you knew the chance was very big that before a hookup he had talked badly about you. He always had to mention you to his hookups, why you didn't know, but it the words were never pretty. You desperately wanted him to admit he needed you.

One time you had tried to make him jealous and it worked, but not completely as you hoped. Rooster made sure you screamed his name that night when he was buried deep inside you and that you never ever tried to pull off such a stunt again, reminding he was the only one who could fuck you. You were so mad at him, you want to scream at him and punch him, but as soon as he touched you, you melted. You were too addicted to him.

He had said he loved you, loved how you feel around him, loved how you could make him feel good, loved how you took care of his precious bird. But never ending the sentence after 'you', he loved the things you did, not you.

***

You found yourself at the same bar as Rooster, again. This time you were with a couple coworkers, minding your own business trying to avoid the pilots so your could enjoy your evening. But as soon as Rooster had noticed your group, he subtle made his group mover closer to yours. He had noticed that when you were at the same bar the sex became even more mind blowing when he was rubbing those slutty bitches in your face. He was never going to admit it, not even to himself, but you were the only one able to satisfy him and that first night when he accidentally fell asleep in your bed next to you he actually liked it. You were not whiny like all the other woman in his bed, and your bed was way comfier than his, plus you gave him a sense of safety. So he kept on falling asleep ‘accidentally’ a lot at your place, blaming it on the the sex being too exhausted to drive back home. None of his fellow pilots could ever know, but he was secretly addicted to you too.

“Do you guys ever sleep with one of those dirty skanks? I mean they are obviously only doing that job to sleep with you.” One of the pilot-groupies with one of those too short and very revealing dresses, if you could classify that piece of fabric a dress, asked Rooster.

“No sweetheart, we don’t lower ourselves to them, we have a higher standard.” Rooster replied with a smug face to the groupie. That hurt, every single remark they made hurt.

“We don’t want our dicks to get smeared with oil.” Another pilot added. “But I’ve got to admit Rooster, maybe I could make an exception with your technician, if I wouldn’t be able to find a nice catch here.”

“Dude, you would really lower yourself to her kind, I mean, have you looked at her? Are you running a fever or something? She’s not worth it. I’m sorry man but that would be low, even coming from you.” You heard Rooster’s comment and it came in, hard.

“Rooster, man, you jealous or something?”

“Me, jealous? Over that? If she wouldn’t work on my plane, you can have her. I just don’t want to hear all the whining afterwards when she realizes she's the last option.” The whole group laughed at Rooster’s answer and those groupies kept on adding fuel to the fire Rooster was litting on your heart. It wasn’t the first time you heard these all these painful words slipping from the pilots mouths. But it was starting to get too much. In the past you let the words get passed you, now they started to live inside your head as you grew more and more attached to Rooster.

You still tried to hold up appearance in front of your coworkers, but you felt getting physically sick over the words coming out of Rooster’s mouth. And your coworkers heard it all too.

“I, I think I’m heading home, I don’t feel too well.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve had enough of their comments. It needs to stop.”

“Don’t, please.” You stopped your coworker, “we still work with them, please, just let it go.”

When you got home, you had never felt this empty. You still heard Rooster’s words echo in your head ‘not worth it’. His words cut deep, it felt like they were branded on your body. You needed him say he didn’t mean them, that he needed you, him to hold you, to say he's sorry. But he wasn’t here, the only thing you could feel were the goosebumps on your skin, no arms wrapped around you keeping you warm. Your stomach turning and turning making you feel nauseous, no more butterflies flying inside you. Maybe they died and that’s why you were feeling sick, the aftermath of falling in love with the wrong person.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the tears forming in your eyes until they started to stream down your cheeks.

Realisation hit you hard, you fell in love with Rooster, Lt. Bradley Bradshaw, heartthrob of base and every bar.

Coworkers with benefits was bound to have a bad ending for one of you and of course it was you. It was perfect how your bodies would react to one other, the way they could move in perfect harmony, the way the fitted together perfectly, the way he moaned your nickname over and over again when he was inside you. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted and that was love and that was the one thing Rooster couldn’t give you, love. He was a ladies’ man and he loved that, not one person.

The next two days you managed to call in sick, trying to avoid Rooster and your feelings. Those two days existed of crying and binging some series, of course you were dumb enough to wear one of Rooster’s shirts. Letting his smell linger on you, making it even more painful. But you had made your decision.

***

“Are you sure about this Petty Officer?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Okay, if there is nothing I can do, you are dismissed.”

“Thank you Sir.”

“Oh here you are, where the hell have you been?” Rooster snapped at you. Great, you barely stepped out of your bosses office and you were met with your nemesis himself. He clearly didn’t get off the last few days.

“Stomach flu, did you want to get puked on?” You bit back. “Sorry, plane is okay?”

“She’s been good.”

“Okay, then I’m gonna take care of the girl. If you don’t mind?” You signalled him to move aside to get to work.

“Make sure you ready after you’ve taken care of her.” Rooster growled in your ear.

“Can’t, meeting with my boss and paperwork for parts.” You half lied, meeting with your boss: no, paperwork for parts: also no, other paperwork: yup.

“Be home this evening!” And Rooster was angry, he was not used to you not doing exactly what he said.

***

You had never been contemplating for this long what you were about to do. Go home and let Rooster fuck you over once again. Or stay in the barracks, trying to avoid him forever? Against what your heart and head were telling you not to go, you found your body having moved you to your place. With Rooster already waiting on your doorstep.

The expression on his face was unreadable. There was a hint of anger, definitely lust, relieve and even some sadness. You felt a lump on your throat and let your body do all the work again as you opened your front door. His fingers brushed over the small of your back.

"Four days," Rooster started as soon as you closed your door, "Four fucking days, if you wouldn't have been sick, I would be so mad right now. Do you have any idea how hard that was?" There was something hoarse in his voice. Good thing he didn't know the truth. He gently stroked your cheek. It was gentle Rooster talking right now, but probably still about to fuck your brains out. This Rooster hurt the most, he could be so gentle, so what you two could be. So about to break your heart, again. "Baby girl?" He knew how weak that nickname made you.

Taking his big hand in your smaller one, you guided him to your couch, if this was about to hurt you deep down, why not make it hurt so bad?

You let the back of his knees touch your couch and gently pressed your hand against his chest, applying a light pressure to make him sit. After removing your jacket, you sat yourself on top of him, still not saying a thing as you opened the buttons of his shirt. You dropped your ass on his uppertighs and took his face in your hands. You felt his hands grip the meat of your ass and knead it. His fingers burned through your pants, it was wonderful yet so bitter.

You moved your face closer letting your lips meet. From a kiss started saying 'it has been too long', yes a couple of days was too long for Rooster, to one filled with need and a slight hint of passion, teeth and tongues clashing. Passion is what Rooster never intended to show, he did it once with you and lost complete control afterwards. That was not happening today.

His hands moved slowly up from your ass to your back so he could remove your tank top. And the fly of your jeans was also open in the next second. Shutting your heart and brain down, you proceeded on autopilot, the only way to get through the night.

Your jeans were off next, so were Rooster's. You started kissing and nipping on the places you knew that made Rooster squirm while he roamed his hands all over your body. The already very hard cock under your ass, indicated it has been four days since Rooster got off. He could go longer without any, only on deployment, never at home.

"Hmm you know me so well, ready for me babygirl?" You nodded and moaned when he removed your panties and bra, immediately inserting two fingers in your wet pussy to stretch you out. Gentleness was over, needy Rooster had taken over.

After a couple of trusts with his his fingers he was satisfied with the stretch and removed his boxers. He took your hips in his hands to align your pussy with his proud standing cock. You slowly sank down on him until he completely filled you up. As always he started kissing your neck at the exact spot that you loved the most, that made you want more.

Once you felt ready, you slowly started to move, eventually bouncing up and down Bradley's wonderful cock. You hated this, how much you loved him filling you up, how you fitted perfectly around him.

He took one of your tits in his hand and started kneading it softly while you were bouncing on him. Moans, skin slapping and squeaking of your couch were filling up the room. You tried to ignore those noises, but you were already too lost in loving them.

To help you both climax, he repositioned his legs steadier on the ground so he could meet the rhythm of your bounces while thrusting up making you scream when the tip of his cock hit your spot harder, over and over again.

"Shit. Close already." He managed to moan, but with lack of your normal 'me too', he started giving your neglected clit attention it needed to get you close too. The moment he managed to reach the right speed of circling motions on your clit combined with his thrusts as your bouncing, you felt your walls tighten and so did he. "Shit, really not going to last any longer. Babygirl. Love your squeeze." The sound of your nickname spilling over his lips made you cum over his cock, making the mistake of screaming his name. Not even a second later Bradley came too, not saying anything about you screaming his name.

"Fuck I needed that." Rooster panted, he looked so perfect fucked out, covered in sweat, even though you did most of the work. You raised yourself up, letting his softening cock slide out of you, to make your way to the bathroom. This time you closed the door. After cleaning yourself up, you splashed water in your face and just stared at yourself in the mirror. The person in front of you looked broken, the emptiness in the eyes confirmed you made the right decision. You couldn't keep up like this anymore. Quickly changing in your pj's, you smacked your cheeks lightly to get you out of your daze. When you opened the door you were met with a still naked waiting Rooster on the other side.

Not having the energy to say anything, you went straight to your bed. You closed your eyes and hoped by that it would miraculously be morning already. But you didn't hear your front door open and close. No, you felt your bed dip, as a body joined you under your sheets. The heat source came closer and wrapped its arm around your middle.

It hurt like hell, but you weren't able to start a fight with him, so you did what was going to crush you. You snuggled closer in the warmth of his body and closed your eyes. After tears streamed down your face and another piece of heart got shattered. He could never say those three words to you, or at least show any respect towards you in public. So yes, him being like this under the sheets at your place made it hard for you to breathe, to think, to sleep, to keep your emotions in check.

When the morning came you had slept a little, Rooster was still draped around your body, but your alarm had woken him too.

"Fuck how early is it?"

"0400, have to be on base in 30. And if I remember correctly, you should be there too." You both got dressed quickly and made a coffee for on the go. Good thing Rooster didn't know what you really had planned.

As the day went on and you had finally finished all the paperwork and your normal work, your coworkers joined you in the break room.

"So, everything done here, you need any help at your place?"

"Uh, I think I need to do that alone."

"Okay, but if you need any help, call." You nodded.

Another coworker joined "How did you manage get this quick transfer?"

"Uh personal reasons and they needed someone urgent with my specifications."

"It's Rooster, isn't it?" Another coworker spoke up.

"I, uh" you were trying to deny it, but to what point? "Yeah" They all hugged you, knowing how deeply you were hurting, not having forgot how he talked about you off base.

"You deserve this second chance, make us proud."

"Have you told him?"

"No, I can't."

"Good, we will."

"Just do not ever tell him where I'm transferring to, please. Here is my new number, so we can still keep in touch." You handed them the paper with your new contact info. "I will miss you guys, all of you. Oh shit, I still have some of his stuff at home." You sighed at the thought of his joggers, toothbrush and other stuff that have invaded your place.

"Sweetheart, now he's really going to regret it, I'll drop by in the morning. I'm going to throw it in his face." They always managed to make you smile.

"Thank you, really, for everything. You are all the best. But I am sorry for Rooster's behavior for the next months probably." The goodbye was incredibly hard, it involved hug after hug, with even tears. But with them the good in goodbye was true. You were truly going to miss them, Rooster not. The sex probably yes, the daily heartbreak, definitely not. You had finally opened the shell Rooster had put around you and it felt good.

After packing all your stuff, you had found the best sleep you had in months. Your closest coworker came to pick up Rooster's stuff as promised. "Oh sweetheart, you fell in love with him, the asshole. Can I please punch him?"

"You have my blessing, I still love somewhere deep down, but I hate him so much, it hurts just to think of him." After a heartfelt talk, you loaded your bags in your car, dropped your keys with your landlord and said your final goodbye to this place.

***

After a five hour plus flight, you landed on the other side of the country. The atmosphere felt different here, someone was waiting for you, they had the keys of your Navy-issued apartment present. You were able to unload your bags already, your other stuff would arrive one of the following days. Next stop was base, they needed you rather sooner than later, so here you were at your new home base, new team, new pilots.

"Hi, you are our new technician right?" You nodded, "hi, I'm one of the pilots, Lieutenant Trace, but you can call me Phoenix, nice to meet you."

Little bonus:

Rooster was pacing around like a wild animal on the loose. You were supposed to be checking on his plane, not someone else. And the answer 'I just got send here, I don't know anything else' didn't satisfy him.

After his shower he got cornered by your closest coworkers in his hangar, he was looking for you, and they looked not amused.

"Here." A bag got thrown in his hands. When he opened it he saw familiar items. A small shockwave went through his body. Your coworkers knew about your arrangement?

"You're the reason she's gone and she's never coming back here!" Before Bradley could come up with an answer, a handpalm collided with his jaw.

"She has a heart asshole and you broke it."

"We didn't just loose our best technician, we also lost our friend, so have a wonderful time." One of them scoffed and they all left.

Rooster was perplexed. You left, because of him. But why? You seemed satisfied two nights ago. You knew what you got yourself into, so why was your heart broken? And why did he feel like something was missing already? There was this more important question, who was going to satisfy him now?

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