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laaundromat · 3 months

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Comfort Back Home, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Summary: As strong as Bradley can be, he feels miserable from time to time. This is the first time he crumbles in front of you.

Short (900ws), cute drabble for baby Bradshaw

Being the best upcoming aviator in the Navy has to be stressful, you think, and yet Bradley had handled it like a champ up until recently.

He’s always done everything by himself, and although behind closed doors he would let frustrated tears out, around people he would always show the confident and happy side of himself.

If not, he still kept himself relatively calm for when he was alone, not wanting to come off as vulnerable to others (mostly Hangman).

But, there’s always a breaking point. Since you had been around him during the deployment at Top Gun with Maverick, and you’d seen him react fairly well (apart from some quieter days and a snapping attitude from time to time), you’d think it would take him a bigger obstacle to completely break down.

And yet, all it took was a minimal fuck up in the air during training, and he’s now knocking on your flat looking like a beaten up puppy, blood-red eyes and shuffled hair. You heart tightens in concern gazing up at him, usually big and strong, looking small in an oversized hoodie that was his father’s.

“Baby…”, you whisper, a hand slowly rising for the instinct of giving him a comforting touch, but stopping midway to check if he’s okay with that. He has the strength to smile at your respect for him as he nods.

When your warm hand makes contact with his burning cheek, he takes a few seconds to close his eyes and the moment the irises disappear, a tear runs down his cheek.

You move in a heartbeat and yet somehow still slowly to not startle him from the bliss he’s feeling now. You keep one hand on his face, while curling the other around his waist to move him inside, and then close the door.

“Bradley,” you try, now both hands on his neck, thumbs overlapping a few stressed veins there. He opens his eyes, and you’re met with a thunderstorm of emotions that make you want to cry out in agony.

You recognize all of it. The pain, the worry, the bad thoughts, the lack of strength, the fear of being so lost and powerless all of a sudden. You know because you’ve experienced that as well. And seeing it on him, recognizing how much pain he’s in right now really destroys you. It’s the last thing you want for him. You want him to be the careless side of him all the time, cocky smiles and silly chokes. You try your best to do your side of what you can, and although you knew at one point it had to happen, it still grumbles your grounds.

You try to think fast, and doing that you can feel a hint of panic starting to make its way inside you. Fearing you’re not what he needs right now because you’re incapable of helping him in this situation, when he needs you the most. You can feel all your insecurities trying to take over you, but Bradley is your priority, his desperate eyes begging you to gain the power he's lost right now. All your memories with him calm you down and, at the same time, give you strength, and you know what to do.

You take off of his shoulder the training bag from work, and then slot your fingers in his hand and slowly, carefully, you bring him in front of the couch and staying there as he sits. He goes to drag you down with him but you restrain, silently asking him with your eyes to trust you with your thing.

You nudge his legs open with your knee and slot in between them, standing a few feet taller in front of him, his head leveled with your chest. Smiling reassuringly, you embrace his neck with both arms and lay his head on your chest, right between your breasts, his nose nuzzling on your right one, and eyes closed in bliss.

You whisper sweet nothings to him. Words of affirmation you know he needs. You tell him how much you missed him during the day. How much you thought of him. How needed he is in your life, how essential he is. You lightly sway left and right, in a silent lullaby, while calling him pet names you know he loves. He takes a few minutes to connect fully after a well deserved, love-ignited black out, and moves fast to wrap his arms around the low of your thighs. You feel his gratitude in the kiss he gives your breast followed by a content smile.

"My Baby," you say blissfully and, at one, he lets all loose.

He cries, tears damping your shirt and you couldn’t care less. you're cooing at him in understanding, though you know they’re not sad tears. They are of relief. He feels like all his worries just disappeared under those words, and he can’t believe it happened after a whole day they weighted on his shoulders.

You both don’t make a sign to move.

“Whenever I am sad, feeling you caging me like this brings me back to Earth. Makes me feel safe, knowing there’s someone bigger than my insecurities believing in me, helping me take those away. I wanted to do it for you too, baby. I’m sorry today was stressful, but I’m bigger than the bad things you thought of yourself throughout today. I am here always, at the end, and I’ll remind you of all the good things you’ve done and felt. And I’ll be with you when you feel like crying to fight for you, yeah?”

He nods against your body, arms tightening around you as few more sleepy kisses are left on the valley of your breasts.

#miles teller x reader #rooster top gun #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick fluff #top gun maverick #comfort #bradley rooster x y/n #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader

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ruerecs · 2 months

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𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑤 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑠 𝑣.

seeing double

wildest dreams

by @sometimesanalice

bookmark my heart by @startrekfangirl2233-writes

uptown girl by @seresinsbrat

the over/under by @beyondthesefourwalls

i'll be home for christmas by @callsign-venus

there are 15 people in this house, you're the only one that has to made trouble by @jupitercomet

somebody to love by @withahappyrefrain

cinnamon rolls & christmas lights by @littleenglishfangirl

that's my man by @greymoonfeelings

hold me while you wait by @goldustwomun

you look good by @callsign-fox

truth or dare you to make a move by @imjess-themess

long day by @winchesterandpie

miss you when i'm gone by @gloryofroses19

fallen angel by @lostplacid

wrong number by @roosterforme

it's cold without you by @killthewhisperingart

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic recs #miles teller #miles teller x reader #miles teller fic recs #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun fic recs #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fic recs #x reader #fic recs #ruerecs

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spacecaravan · 1 year

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Short Stack

pairing: rooster x reader word count: 4.8k 🥞☕🥓

"You're driving me crazy over here, honey," Bradley said with a pout from his spot in your kitchen, whining as he stared at you, your back to his front as you stood at your spot in front of the gas stove.

It was a picturesque Sunday morning, the air was warm and sweet-smelling as the wind floated in from the open window, dainty linen curtains blowing enchanting shapes in the breeze. You had asked Bradley if he wanted to eat breakfast outside today since, as you had put it, it would be such a waste if we didn't.

"Hm?" you hummed in response, resting your cheek on your shoulder as you craned your neck to glance over at the pilot, your hands busy tending to pancakes sizzling away on the stovetop "what'd you say, baby?" finding it a little hard to hear him over the speaker you had playing next to you on the countertop.

"You expect me to just sit over here while you're over there looking like that?" he questioned in an incredulous tone, his legs were wide open, palms splayed over his bare thighs while he watched you, his pajama shorts riding high on the tan skin underneath.

You raised your eyebrows, eyes glinting curiously in his direction before you bent over at the waist to check the bacon crisping up in the oven. Old sweatshirt riding up just enough to drive Bradley wild as you batted your lashes at him, stoking the flames you loved to be warmed by.

"What's that, Bradley?" you said, dimples threatening to break through the coy smile you were trying to hide, "don't you want me to take care of you like I promised?" you teased, reminding Bradley of the moments that had transpired not too long before he was sat sipping coffee in one of his favorite places in the world, your kitchen on a lazy Sunday morning.

"Sleepy girl,"

His favorite way to wake you up on Sundays was to whisper in your ear as he snuck his hand up the front of whatever soft top you happened to fall asleep in. Warm hand reaching for your breasts, but wanting you to be awake before he teased you so he could listen to you react.

"Good morning, baby," he rasped in your ear, his eager fingers ghosting over your bare nipples after he felt you stir, relishing in the pleased little sound you made in the back of your throat in response to his touch, nipples pebbling immediately under the tips of his fingers.

The night before you promised him you'd wake up early and make him a nice breakfast: fluffy buttermilk pancakes, perfectly cooked bacon, coffee the way he likes it — the works — he deserved it, you'd said.

You spent that night cooing in his ear about how he worked so hard on base, pressing wet kisses across his bare chest as you praised him, moaning desperately into the air as he pressed his thumb softly on your clit as you rode him—couldn't stop telling him how desperately you wanted to make him feel good.

"You deserve to feel so fucking good all the time, Bradley Bradshaw," you said, your skin hot and flushed as you fell apart on top of him, "and I'm going to make sure you do. I'm going to treat you so, so good, baby." you moaned into his ear before you felt him filling you up in your favorite way.

So blinking your eyes open, to see your bedroom bathed in the hazy morning glow while Bradley's hard cock pressed firmly against your ass, was not what you needed to have the productive morning you'd promised.

"Bradley," you forced out in your rough morning tone, a warning, at least that's how you intended it to sound.

"Mhm?" Rooster grumbled from behind you, pulling you tighter to his sleep-warmed body as he pushed his wet lips and scratchy mustache into your soft neck. "love hearing you say my name," he mumbled, "lemme hear it again, sweet girl," a tiny kiss pressed into the back of your hairline, "y'smell so good by the way, always do." he said, his tone laced with affection as he inhaled your scent, pressing tender kisses to the sensitive skin of your throat.

"Bradley," you repeated, placing your hand on top of the one he had resting on your hip, managing to flip yourself so that you were facing him, staring directly into his eyes. "good morning."

You kissed him softly on the lips before taking both of his hands between your bodies and pressing them above your breast, inhaling deeply and letting him feel your heartbeat. Rooster was strong, there was no denying it. But, for all that strength, Bradley was also putty in your hands, made utterly helpless at the site of your eyes on his. His body went completely pliant the moment you locked eyes with him and put your hands anywhere on his body.

"G'morning," he sighed, losing his train of thought in the way the sunlight made your skin glow. Bradley pressed a soft kiss onto your nose as he breathed you in, his chest pressing against your joined hands as he moved closer, tangling your feet beneath the soft blankets.

"Remember what I promised?" you reminded him, taking in his dreamy expression, keenly aware of how shallow his breaths were as he gazed at you, "I gotta start cooking, honey. Wanna treat you to this."

His mouth parts, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he watches you speak. Leans in closer to listen to you whisper sweetly about how you wanted to take care of him.

"Or," he started, mustache quirking slightly as a smirk took over his features, "you stay here," he paused for a moment, his larger hands overlapping yours to bring your knuckles up to his warm lips, "and you let me take care of you — let me make you feel good."

Hearing him say that made your heart pound, made your entire body tingle all over and tempted you to no end. But you wanted, no needed, to do this for Bradley. You had been planning this ever since the last time you cooked for him and he wouldn't shut up about how he loved watching you in the kitchen.

Went on and on about how he was ready to be a stay-at-home anything if it meant getting to watch you act out all the fantasies he held deep inside, close to his heart. Fantasies of domestic bliss, of a life with someone who cares for you, who adores you, and in return, someone to make it all worth giving a shit about.

And as much as you loved taking care of Bradley, you could never get enough of the way he would playfully nudge you away from the sink the moment he saw you starting to wash up after a meal. He always wanted to help, wanted to be involved, wanted to fill you up with the same type of affection you poured into him.

"Excuse me miss," he would start, his hip bumping yours as he came to stand at the sink, "what do you think you're doing over here?" his smile was always infectious at this point, his large hands coming in to pluck the sponge straight from your wet fingers, "go relax, go get comfy. I'll do the rest." and with that final word, he would kiss you into total submission and send you on your way with a tap to your bottom.

"Later," you whispered, "stay in bed. I'll bring you coffee in a bit,"

You freed your hands from his grip and gently brushed your fingers over his cheekbone. He immediately leaned into your soft touch, allowing you to rise easily, his lips forming a pout as he watched you move to exit the bedroom.

"You're torturing me," he said, propping himself up on his palm, elbow digging into the mattress as he shifted, his other palm coming out to reach for you in a desperate final attempt to get you back under the warm sheets.

You couldn't help the grin that blossomed on your face as you basked in Bradley's warm gaze.

"Lucky for you," you started, cheek pressed to the door frame as you watched him, "you're trained to handle tough situations like this. Aren't you, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you slipped out before he could give you a response.

Walking down the hall you heard him groan and flop back down onto the mattress, could clearly picture him running his hands over his face and through his sleep-mussed hair as he shook his head with a smile.

And that's how you ended up here, sunshine coming softly through your kitchen window while Bradley sat wide-legged at your breakfast nook. His large body settled into the cushion you and your friends had DIY'd one Friday evening, after two bottles of chilled red wine sat happily in your stomachs and shared laughter lit up the room. It's how you ended up with Bradley practically white-knuckling his mug as he watches you cook and fawn over him, sweetly asking him, "Can I top off your coffee, baby?" while you stroke the back of his neck, backing away before he can get his hands on you.

"Honey," Bradley had moved from his spot, taking a few short strides to stand behind you at the stove. His hands coming to rest on your hips as he drags you back to him, "I can't sit there anymore."

"No?" you question, your gaze on the cast iron skillet on the burner, the final pancake was cooking away on its shiny black surface as you feigned nonchalance. "What's got you so worked up, Bradshaw?"

Once he heard his last name leave your mouth he knew you were teasing him, and god was he ready to tease you right back.

"I don't know," he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, "maybe just a pretty little thing making me breakfast," another kiss below your ear, "my girl taking such good care of me,"

Bradley moves his right hand to take the spatula out of your grip, meeting no resistance as you melt into the heat radiating from his naked chest, getting lost in the words coming out of his mouth as you lean into his onslaught of kisses.

"I'll tell you what's got me worked up, baby."

You feel him inhale deeply behind you, the music playing from the speaker filling up the otherwise quiet room as he deftly flips the pancake on the pan, somehow knowing it was the perfect time to turn it as its golden brown surface shows itself. Soon after his perfect pancake has been flipped, he places the tool down, and using his now free right hand, turns off the stove and the oven, signaling the end of that—kitchen closed.

Every nerve in your body was lighting up now. You could feel the excitement building in your marrow as he stood calmly behind you.

"Turn around, and I'll tell you," he whispers in your ear, "lemme see your pretty eyes."

There was no other option but to listen, no choice but to turn around and stare into his lust-filled eyes.

"So, what is it, Bradshaw?" you practically sigh, turning to him as you try to calm your breathing, willing yourself to fill your lungs slowly before he pushes you over the edge with just his words.

"It's you," his voice still low as his as he reaches his hand up to brush over your lips. The pad of his thumb swipes back and forth gently over your pouted bottom lip, "it's you in this fucking kitchen looking like a dream. It's you saying my name while you pour me coffee," he pauses briefly, "it's that I know you slept in my sweatshirt last night to drive me fucking crazy this morning."

"Am I in trouble, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you say coolly despite the blazing inferno ripping through your entire being, despite his finger still resting on the plush of your lip.

Bradley doesn't answer, simply pushes his thumb past your lips and onto your waiting tongue. He loves the way he can make you mush under his touch. But you never let him have the upper hand for long. He groans and squeezes his eyes shut as you gaze up at him, sucking harshly on the digit and wetting it with your eager tongue. He pulls the finger out of your mouth, hand moving to grip your cheeks in a manner that made your panties flood with wetness. Bradley was practically panting — trying so hard to keep his cool, trying so hard not to spin you around right here and fuck you against the oven.

“Breakfast is gonna have to wait, pretty girl,” he declares, “should have never let you get out of bed this morning.”

After that it's a blur of warm hands grasping for bare skin, a symphony of moaning into open-mouthed kisses and when Bradley moves his hands down your thighs, pulling in a signal you've come to know well, you jump. His capable hands immediately come to your ass as you wrap your legs around his middle. You're nose to nose with him as he walks you back to the bedroom.

"I've got you, baby," he whispers, "gonna make you feel so good."

He's dropping you onto the bed before you know it, towering his body over yours to kiss every inch of skin he can touch. He's pushing up your (his) sweatshirt to reveal the soft skin hidden underneath, stopping to bite and lick your exposed breasts, taking extra care of each nipple as he nips and pinches.

Rooster tosses away the article of clothing, leaving you lying in the morning light in just your underwear. He takes a single step back, leaving you panting on the bed as you stare up at him. He's obviously hard, his pajama shorts tented and hands flexing at his sides as he looks down at the way your almost naked body is being illuminated by the golden light.

"You look too fucking good," he whispers mostly to himself, "god damn."

He drops to his knees in front of you, hands coming to wrap underneath your knees as he drags you to the end of the bed, bringing your covered cunt to his waiting mouth. Rooster immediately presses his nose and lips onto the sodden fabric of your panties, his tongue coming out to taste the wetness soaking the cotton. You could come just from this, just from Bradley Bradshaw breathing into your pussy while he presses his perfect nose against your puffy clit.

"Want me to taste you, honey?" he whispers into your cunt, and you feel like you're burning alive, "cause I wanna taste you real fuckin' bad."

He pulls away from you again, and it really isn't fair that he looks like that right now. His skin is radiant and ethereal, he smells divine and he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. Before you even have a chance to answer, Rooster is gripping the fabric on your underwear tightly, increasing the friction on your clit. A little tease. Maybe a little mean—or even a little needy.

"Talk to me, baby," he says, fingers still pulling the fabric taut against your dripping center.

"Please, Bradley," you whisper desperately, chest heaving as you look down at him. "Need you," you add, yes because you mean it, but also because you know he loves to hear it.

With that, he is swiftly pulling the soaked panties down your legs, flinging them somewhere to be found later while the two of you laugh and make the bed together.

His palms come back to separate your thighs and you could die. You feel like you're about to plunge into icy cold water—the shock of adrenaline as your body adjusts to the frigid temperature. Warmth overtakes every cell in your body, as you gaze down at him. Bradley is staring directly into your wet pussy with a lust-filled glaze in his pretty eyes. With every inhale and exhale you feel more obscene, more spread open.

"So wet," he observes, his voice deep and gruff "you showin' off for me? Gettin' nice and wet just for me, baby?"

He runs his thumb up and down your slit, taking one pass to tease at your aching clit. His thumb is bringing you a pleasure that is making your back arch off the mattress, it feels like he is taking you apart piece by piece. His face is still so close to your pussy you can feel his breath fanning over you. His warm breath is a sharp contrast to the wetness of your weeping hole.

"Oh, honey," he coos, as he dips his middle finger into your soaked cunt, "bet you were wet this morning too, huh? But my good girl wanted to treat me to a picture-perfect Sunday, didn't she?"

He wants you to answer, you know this.

"Want you so bad, Bradley," you whimper into your palm, having pressed the side of it between your teeth to keep from yelling out, "want you always. Wanna take care of you all the time."

When his mouth finally comes down, it makes you weep, makes you cry out in a tone you've never heard leave your body. His supple mouth and tongue are bringing you so much comfort as they simultaneously send all-encompassing shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You’re bucking into his mouth, unashamed in your want for him, unabashed in the way you spread your wetness over his gorgeous face. You bring your hands away from your fluttering chest and gasping mouth to pull his hair, hard. He moans loudly when you do, making your tummy do backflips as he feasts on your cunt. Breakfast be damned.

"My perfect girl," he whispers against your clit, "tastes so good. Such a sweet pussy."

You groan at his words, reveling in his praise and storing it away to replay at a later time. No one has ever made you feel the way Rooster does, no one has ever been able to make you completely unravel in the way he can.

"Need you, baby," you whine from your spot on the bed, "need to feel you inside me, please. Please, Bradley."

He pulls back enough for you to see his face—lips shining, mustache obscenely wet and it makes you dizzy just to look at him like this. His hands are still gripping your thighs, his touch burning the area his palms are claiming.

"Can't wait for me to finish?" he taunts, mocking you as he smiles into your wet cunt.

That's when you move to sit up, propping yourself up on your elbows to get better leverage. Wordlessly you slip back away from him, sliding back on the soft sheets to rest your back flat against the headboard. Creating enough distance between the two of you to keep him out of arms reach, the only touch he could lay on you now is a soft graze to your ankle with his fingertips.

"Come here, Rooster," you say, your sultry tone sounds unfamiliar to you, coated in want and lust, "come and take your pussy, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

A beat passes. You hear him curse under his breath. He's so solid when he comes to stand at the end of the bed. Doesn't take his eyes off yours as he rids himself of his soft shorts. Doesn't make a sound as he palms his erection, stroking the length once, twice, three times before he descends upon you. Once again he's flexing that Navy-earned strength of his to drag your body flush against the mattress. His arms coming to frame your head as he brings his mouth down onto yours, soft and kind, kissing you so sweetly as he leaves the taste of you behind on your tongue.

"You're gonna be the death of me, baby." he moans into your mouth.

"What a way to go," is all you say before you reach down to rub his cock up and down your wet slit, taking extra care to rub his sensitive tip over your clit driving you both wild in the process.

He's gripping your wrist tight, halting your movement on his length. His eyes are half-open as they peer into yours, his bottom lip lodged in between his perfect teeth as he places your hand back on the soft sheets below you.

His plunging inside you so suddenly it pushes all the air out of your lungs. His breath hitches as he settles into the deepest, warmest parts of you—his hands coming up to keep your supple thighs snug around his waist as pleasure rocks through your core. Sometimes he moves so fast you can't keep up, can't keep up with the pillow being shoved under your ass as Bradley strokes deep inside of you.

“Oh, honey,” he moans, “god that pussy is perfect.”

Your skin sizzles at his praise, pleasure is working itself down to the very tips of your toes, making you shiver. You're gasping for breath as he pushes himself impossibly deeper inside of you, eyes falling shut as you chase the pleasure he is eliciting from you. Your pussy is clenching around him, he feels so thick and perfect inside you it makes you want to cry. Your hands are gripping the sheets so hard your fingers are cramping.

"Look at me, pretty baby," he whispers, "let me see my girl."

Your eyes snap open, but your head tilts back with pleasure at his request. You feel so close. You don't know how he gets you teetering over the edge so fast. Maybe it's the husky sound of his voice as he calls you a million different lovely names. Maybe it's the way his tan arms look caging you beneath his body. Or maybe it's the way he gets lost staring in between your bodies.

Rooster is obsessed with the way he looks sliding in and out of you while you cry out underneath him. But he can never look away too long, always needing to see the look in your eyes as he fucks you in a way that makes you whine and beg for him—makes you desperate for him in his favorite way. He never gets tired of the shock on your face when he whispers filthy words into your ear as he touches parts of you no one ever has. And you hope to god that no one but him ever will again.

Did Bradley love seeing you act out his domestic fantasies? Of fucking course. The pilot could hardly keep his hands off you most evenings, barely getting the chance to say hello before he was winded at the sight of you floating around the kitchen. Always humming along to a tune he liked — or at least he liked the sound of it coming sweetly from you — before you noticed he was in the room. You were always stirring this, or chopping that. Asking him to taste this for salt or, like most times, you simply said "sit and relax, Rooster, let me take care of you." like you did this morning. He loved the way you took care of him. You did it without pretense or motive. Just did it because you loved to see him loved. You adored doting on Bradley Bradshaw because you knew he deserved it. You knew how he craved it.

But, for as much as Bradley liked you sweet and delicate in the kitchen, he loved you fucked out and messy more. He went crazy over the way you'd suck his fingers into your mouth while he was fucking you, doing anything just to feel fuller. Loved the way you teased—all half-lidded eyes and parted lips, walking around half-dressed with an innocent smile on your face as you stepped in front of the TV, interrupting whatever college football game he happened to be watching with a simple Hi, Bradshaw. He lived for the chase and would do stupid, dangerous things for the reward.

“Bradley,” you whisper, and it elicits another moan from him, one that is throaty and deep, "Make me cum, please,"

He wants to keep teasing you, wants to make you wait so badly, wants to make you yell out his name desperately as he edges you. But he can't—not this morning—not when you look so, so pretty laid out underneath him, like a fucking angel, he thinks to himself.

"I've got you, pretty honey," he leans down to press his chest into yours, relishing in the feeling of your hard nipples pressed into his heated skin, "don't have to do a thing, sweet girl, just feel how deep that cock is inside you, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Oh, Bradley," you whine, crying out at the feeling of his shaft hitting parts of you that hurt so goddamn good. Parts of you that made tears prick at the corners of your eyes, made your toes curl and your heart pound out of your chest.

He's close too, he can never stop talking the closer to release he gets. "That's it, baby, tell me who's making you feel good. Tell me whose cock is gonna make you cum." his words are filthy as he chases his orgasm alongside yours.

You would tell him anything he wanted to hear right now, confess your deepest darkest secrets if he asked.

"It's you, Rooster" you moan. "Always you, only you. No one else can fuck me like you Rooster, please. Please." you plead desperately, you're so close to cumming and it's driving you insane, making your skin tingle all over as you stand over the edge waiting to jump.

Bradley's mind goes blank at your words, he can't do anything but continue to fuck you deeper, soaking in your praise before it shoots straight into his pelvis and grips him tight.

You hold on to him tightly as you cum, holding him as close as possible as you grind against him, body moving instinctually at this point to chase the most pleasure possible, to milk every last ounce of euphoria you can from him.

Bradley's own gratification is close, he knew it was the moment he felt your pussy start pulsing around his cock as you came. He was absolutely basking in every little noise coming from as you came undone underneath him, he loved watching you come apart, loved that he was the one doing it.

"I want it, baby," you preen underneath him, shocking him out of his reverie and snapping his attention to the fucked out expression on your face, "need to feel you cum inside me Bradley, please, baby. Need it so, so bad, honey."

He growls and you know that did it. The deep, raspy noise coming from him as he spills inside you makes you clench down on his shaft, hard. The feeling of your cum soaked pussy clenching around him makes Bradley curse into your ear. Makes him thrust hard into your sensitive hole as he groans out your name.

When you still, the two of you are slick with a fine layer of sweat, bellies moving in tandem as you fight desperately to fill your lungs and steady your heartbeats.

If there's one thing Bradley loves, it's the afterglow. He could lie on top of you with his cock soft inside your velvet walls for hours. Wouldn't move if he didn't have the unfortunate human need for food and water. On rare occasions, Bradley would be so relaxed post-orgasm, he would doze off on your chest, his breath coming out in gentle puffs over your skin as you pet the top of his head, basking in the sight of him bare and malleable underneath you.

"I think breakfast might be a little cold, baby," he says with a smile, gazing up at you with a look you could only describe as smitten.

"Shame," you tut, and your hand grips his hair a little tight, nothing that hurt, nothing that no one but a top naval aviator would notice, a little twitch as you considered what to say next. "can I tell you a secret?" you're grinning now too.

"Spill it," his expression is giddy as he waits for your confession.

"I love doing this with you," you didn't mean to be earnest. You meant to say something witty, something funny.

But you couldn't, honesty pouring out of you like a tub overflowing with water. Like someone had turned on the faucet and walked away.

You see his expression soften before he's rolling the two of you over, his eyes never leaving yours as he brings the both of you to lay on your sides, mirroring the position you were in earlier this morning. Hands gripped tightly between each other, chests moving in tandem as you bring your faces impossibly close together. "Me too, baby," he's smiling so sweetly it's making your stomach fill with butterflies "you have no idea."

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year

Note

Heyyy I was wondering if you could do a rooster x reader where the reader and rooster have like 8 kids and the rest of the dagger squad meets the reader and roosters kids and are all shocked at how many kids rooster has? Maybe 7 boys and 1 girl who’s his absolute angle btw just something very soft cute and sweet

Aww that's such a cute idea! Thanks for the request, anon <3 Hope you like it!

Rooster's Brood

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Summary: The squad gets a little surprise in the form of Rooster spawn.

CW: fluff, dad Rooster, Rooster loves his hot wife, some Hannix vibes, Hangman may actually be the superstar of this drabble..oops

Masterlist

“Uh, Rooster.” Jake furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “There’s a kid behind you making faces. No, scratch that,” he adds, a look of concern washing over his features. “There are two of them. Or am I seeing double?” He blinks several times and rubs his eyes.

Bradley grins at Jake while the rest of the squad gathers around to investigate the situation. When Bradley turns around, the two boys rush at him with open arms. Bradley squats down to gather them up.

“Rooster, I don’t know how to tell you this,” Natasha says warily. “But there are more of them coming your way.”

The group of aviators look down the beach to see five more boys of various ages gunning for Rooster.

“Maybe he used to be a kindergarten teacher?” Bob says hopefully, brushing sand from his shorts.

“Either that or he’s finally found a likeminded group of individuals who share his level of intellect,” Jake says with a grimace.

“Why would you insult the children like that, Hangman?” Javy says with a smile. Jake chuckles while Natasha rolls her eyes at them, shaking her head.

Mickey steps forward, squinting into the afternoon sun. “There’s a girl too.”

At this point, the rest of the boys have crowded around Bradley’s legs, fighting one another off as they try to climb up his body. Despite the ruckus, Bradley seems to be having the time of his life, holding a twin boy in each arm as the rest of the brood takes turns trying to tackle him to the ground.

“Seriously, where the fuck are all these little people coming from?” Jake mutters as a little girl runs barefoot across the beach toward Bradley.

Natasha gives him a hard smack on the shoulder. “Bagman, language!”

Jake looks over at her with a shocked expression, rubbing his arm in bewilderment. “Phoenix, you can’t just go around hitting people. What kind of example are you setting for the juveniles?”

Phoenix shoots him an annoyed glance as Bradley crouches to set the twins down. He’s got one knee on the ground and a huge grin on his face as he stretches his arms out toward the little girl. Meanwhile, the rest of the kids are vaulting him tirelessly. Bradley laughs, bracing himself to stay upright.

The little girl finally arrives and Bradley scoops her up into his arms, standing up and holding her tightly against his chest. She lays her head on his shoulder and he rests his cheek on top of her hair. “Hi princess,” he says, swaying back and forth as he cradles her against his body.

“Hi daddy,” the girl says sweetly.

Jake’s eyes widen as he glances between Natasha and Mickey. “Daddy?” he mouths in utter shock.

Natasha can’t formulate a response because she’s just as surprised as Jake is.

“I missed you, daddy,” the girl says.

“I missed you too, angel,” Bradley mutters softly, squeezing her tighter as the boys bounce around the two of them, goofing off in the sand.

“I count twelve,” Jake says, his eyebrows scrunched up. “You?”

Natasha looks over at him with a grimace. “There are seven. No, wait. Eight, with the girl.”

Jake nods with his jaw jutted out musingly. “I may have counted some of them twice. They move so fast. And they all kind of look alike.”

“They all kind of look like Rooster,” Mickey points out.

Bradley strokes his little girl’s hair as he cranes his neck to observe a figure walking in the distance. He smiles as you approach, your long sundress flowing in the breeze. You’re carrying tiny sandals in your hand.

“Is that the wife, Bradshaw?” Reuben calls out as Bradley’s kids begin to circle his legs. Reuben cups his hands over his package protectively, wincing as they swarm around him.

“Are you kidding?” Jake says. “He wishes; that woman is way out of his league.”

Bradley turns to give Jake a smirk. “I agree.”

You smile at your husband, having heard the latest interaction. Bradley glimpses back at you, squinting slightly from the sun, and holds out his arm toward you with your daughter still on his hip. You lean into his side and he instantly pulls you closer, kissing you passionately on the lips.

“Rooster, there are children present,” Jake says, cringing.

“And very immature adults,” Natasha adds.

Jake gives her a pointed look. “At least you’re self-aware,” he retorts.

Rooster ignores his friends’ exchange, giving you some additional kisses on your lips, and then peppering the rest of your face with quick kisses. You laugh and his hold tightens around your waist as he continues kissing you over and over again. You feel his lips spreading into a smile as he chuckles over your temple, but he doesn’t stop kissing you until you finally pull away.

You look at the stunned faces around you with a sheepish grin as Bradley watches you with a mixture of pride and admiration on his face. He kisses your daughter’s head and sets her down gently. Then, he approaches you with a mischievous look. His shirtless body is glistening with sweat and you struggle to not objectify your husband. But you haven’t seen him in weeks and he looks so good that you find yourself failing miserably at this task. Bradley’s smirk indicates that he’s amply aware of just how much you’re craving him and, once he’s close enough, he wraps both arms around your waist and tugs you forward.

“Looks like we’ve got some babysitters,” Bradley says in a low voice.

You chuckle. “I don’t know, eight aviators versus eight of your kids? I’m not optimistic.”

Bradley laughs. “I have faith in my squad.” You look around his massive shoulder to see Jake pick up one of your boys and flip him upside down. Your son screams with glee while the rest of your kids rush toward Jake to get a turn. Natasha is watching on with a small smile, her arms folded over her chest. Before you can respond, Bradley leans down to place his arm under your legs. With his other arm supporting your back, he swiftly lifts you off the ground as you yelp in surprise.

“Alright, kids,” Bradley says. “We’ll be back.”

“Just to clarify,” Jake says, now holding two of your children by the ankles while they wriggle in his grasp. “We’re the kids you’re referring to, right?”

Bradley nods at him. “Children, keep an eye on Uncle Jake, he can be a handful.”

Jake scoffs with a laugh. “What about you, Phoenix?” Jake turns to look at her. “Ever think about having little crotch goblins of your own?”

Bradley shakes his head at Jake. “That is possibly the worst pickup line I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

You laugh, hiding your face in the crook of Bradley’s neck. As he carries you away, you hear Natasha say, “Not until today.”

Read Part 2

Rooster Tag List:

Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in future Rooster fics/if you no longer consume Rooster content <3 My Rooster tag list might be overflowing 😅

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

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@wintercap89

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@peoniarose

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intoanotherworld23 · 9 months

Text

Feel The Vibrations

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD NSFW 18+ ONLY, there is smut and sex in this, consensual sex, use of sex toy, use of vibrator, mild choking, smidge of fingering, swear words

Summary: Bradley always has a way of surprising you with new things in the bedroom

Ignore the woman in the GIF, and imagine it’s you instead cause that’s exactly what I did! Enjoy my loves! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

Laying on your side with Bradley behind you as he was holding your leg in the air. Your arm gripping his thigh hard as you felt him going in and out of you. His arm underneath your head giving it something to rest on.

“That’s my good girl.”

Feeling every thrust pushing in and pulling up driving up a rhythmic beat. Loving the thickness of his cock stretching out your inner walls. He was guiding you to the edge of pleasure. Feeling him pulsing inside of you both of you pushing each other into a frenzy.

"Oh fuck." You cried out as he slid his cock easily in and out of you.

"You are absolutely soaked." The sounds of your wetness echoing around the room.

He was breathing heavily into your neck as he continued to pump his cock inside of you. You felt so incredibly full, and you didn't know how you were going to take anymore.

"That feel good baby?"

"Mhm." Nodding your head unable to find the words to speak.

"Aw did you forget how to speak?" His tone condescending.

The scruff of his mustache was scratching against your neck, and he whispered dirty things in your ear. Your head thrown back so he had easy access to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the skin. Your eyes closed in pure ecstasy you didn't want this feeling to end.

You could feel the juices from your pussy slopping against your thighs every time he drilled into you. Your ass cheeks slapping against his pelvis with each movement he made. Your pussy making a squishing sound that made you feel flustered.

"Hold on."

He mumbled against your ear as he stopped thrusting inside of you to reach into his drawer digging something out. Trying to look over to see what he was exactly up to.

“Bradley what are you doing get back over here and fuck me.”

“Patience baby I got something for you.”

You cried out at him to continue having been close to your orgasm you didn't want to lose it. Whining when he was taking a little longer than you would have liked.

Looking over quickly to see what he was doing then leaning your head back down. Feeling a cold object touch your wet folds, and then a high vibration buzzing against your clit making you squeal.

"Shit just like that Bradley." You moaned out your pussy clenching around his cock.

Bradley has always talked about using a toy on your during sex. He just never expressed when he wanted to do that. Now here he was deep inside of you while rubbing a vibrator against you.

"I can feel you squeezing my cock baby."

Lifting his leg up even higher so he could get in a deeper angle. His cock slamming into your sweet spot making you see stars. Sweat was forming around your back and forehead. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours making your cheeks heat up.

Both your bodies rocking back and forth clashing into each other. The bed was shaking underneath you hearing then creak from the bed springs. If he kept going like this you were worried he was going to break the bed.

"God you drive me so fucking crazy." Growling in your ear as he nipped at it.

He moved the toy around your clit harder and harder. That fire was forming in the pit of your stomach and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Your legs were shaking feeling yourself getting closer to release.

"Stretching this tight cunt out."

"Bradley." Whining pathetically with your mouth wide open.

"I know baby I know I'm gonna get you there."

Not even knowing what to do with your hands either having them on his body, or in your hair. At one point while his one hand was moving the toy against you, his arm that was underneath you moved slightly. His hand reaching up to grab you around your neck lightly choking you.

A smile appearing on your face making him rut into you even harder. He loved seeing you like this and what a desperate wild animal you were becoming. He's never wrapped a hand around your throat, but he was just living in the moment.

Applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to your throat so you could still breathe. It was overstimulating but absolute fucking bliss. Bradley could see it written across your face, and he wanted to keep that image in his head.

"Fuck you look so good like this sweetheart."

Both your bodies were rocking back and forth together in unison. The smell of sex and sweat was filling your nostrils. Moans and groans echoing across the room. Bradley was straining himself waiting for you to reach that sweet release.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum Roos." You whined pushing your head back Bradley growling at the use of his call sign.

“Call me that again.”

“Rooster.” Drawing out the name.

Bradley was a complete sucker for use of his call sign or rank being cried out in ecstasy. Driving him wild with lust whenever you did it. Whether it was by his command or not. It made him weak in the knees.

"Such a good girl for me."

Bradley groaning as he felt your pussy squeezing his cock. Your hips began to move in the rhythm of his cock. Still continuing to use the toy against you egging you on. Stopping for a quick minute, before his wrists would start snapping the toy against your clit and folds.

Your breathing was becoming heavier by the minute. His hand using the toy kept the tip of it against your clit pressing down harder so your back was arching against Bradley. He was always one to tease you, and bring you to tears when it came to sex.

"Cum all over my cock baby."

That was all it took before you felt your toes curling in the air, and you pussy squeezing him so tightly as you came around him. The pit of your stomach coiling as a wave of warmth rushed over your body.

"Oh fuck I'm there sweetheart." He warned you through his teeth.

Your body slumped against him as he pumped into you a couple more times. Groaning loudly as his cock twitched inside of you before squirting his warm load into you. The both of you out of breath after your kinky lovemaking.

Leaning his head forward so his forehead was pressed up against your shoulder. Giving you little tender kisses his hand running circles on your thighs in a soothing way. Feeling your eyes becoming heavier as you strained to keep them open.

There was no way your body was going to be able to move. Your legs felt like cooked noodles, and your hands were lightly trembling. It was an intense feeling almost like a rush of excitement or adrenaline.

"I hope I wasn’t too rough with you." His soft hands touching your neck.

Bradley turning into a soft lush when everything was over. You were a priority to him, and he always wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, or push you past your limit.

"No it actually felt really good." Confessing as you looked away feeling slightly embarrassed for liking it so much.

"Good cause we are definitely doing that again."

His hand reaching down between your legs to your raw cunt. Gasping as he gently pushed a thick finger inside of you. Your inner walls spreading open around it as you selfishly lifted your hips it. Feeling like you didn't know if you'd be able to handle anymore, but Bradley knew you could.

Bradley grinning as he watched the expression on your face. Knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. He wasn't exactly done with you yet, and had more in store for you.

"Get ready for a long night sweetheart."

#miles teller #miles teller smut #miles teller x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #miles teller fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagines #miles Teller imagines #miles Teller fic #Bradley bradshaw fic

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melwilson · 2 years

Text

flustered and bothered

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x f!reader

rooster can’t help being so attractive and you can’t help but to admire him.

bradley bradshaw was a sight for sore eyes. and most of the time, even before you started dating, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter if he was cooking, working out, sleeping, or just simply talking- he was captivating like that. and he knew it.

whenever bradley walked into a room, he had your full attention. it was annoying really, how much he had you wrapped around his finger. people would point out his tan skin, or his whiskey colored eyes, or his smile, or his too tight wife beater that left little to the imagination. the physicality that was rooster bradshaw was enough to grab anyone’s attention, but for you it was his presence. knowing that roos was right there with you brought you peace you thought you would never have because of your association with the military.

however, his physical features did play a big part.

like right now.

you’re sitting in penny’s semi-crowded bar with pheonix as she gives you the inside scoop on this weeks edition of navy aviator gossip. you’re supposed to be listening because, truly, you love good drama. however, your pilot boyfriend looks too damn good. he’s at a table with fanboy and coyote, a beer of his own in his hand. he’s wearing one of his dad’s old tee shirts in that dark blue color that seemingly accentuates his tan. his aviators hang loosely on his wife beater, hair perfectly imperfect.

“y/n, you live with that man,” phoenix says in playful disgust. at the same time, your boyfriend sends you a sly smirk holding your gaze as he takes a drink of his beer. damn him. “you could be less obvious in how obsessed you are.”

you shoot the brunette a glare. “i’m not obsessed.”

she scoffs at that. “okay, you’re just overly committed to watching your boyfriend exist.”

you shake your head in disbelief looking over to see that rooster is no where to be found. maybe you are obsessed? “you’re unbelievable, phoenix.”

she smiles. “unbelievably making my exit.”

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion until a familiar pair of hands find your waist.

“ladies,” rooster greets.

“lieutenant bradshaw,” phoenix salutes. “needing a little aloe vera, now are we?” she gestures to the top of his chest, noticeably red.

rooster flips her off, one of which she returns happily before heading over to grab another drink. he spares no time stealing her seat and your attention.

“someone’s being not-so-subtle tonight,” he says tugging your stool between his legs.

you can’t help the embarrassed heat that crawls up your neck and makes your breath hitch. “stop being so damn fine.”

“you and i both know that is an impossible request.”

you groan in annoyance. “i know. i know. it’s just people keep saying i’m obsessed-“

“you are.”

“no, i’m not,” you argue. “i just- i just like admiring you.”

rooster chuckles, leaning over to kiss your pouted lips. “no one said it’s a bad thing, baby. i like having your eyes on me. and you wanna know what like more than that?”

you sigh, gaze on your intertwined fingers. “what?”

“having my eyes on you.”

you scoff, shoving the whiskey-eyed man away gently. “you’re such a flirt.”

“yeah, for you,” rooster teases, “i like getting you all flustered and bothered.”

you roll your eyes for seemingly the thousandth time in an hour. “i hate you.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” he replies standing to his feet. he moves between your legs, hands cupping either side of your jaw to tilt your head back to look at him. your hands instinctively find his waist, fingers gripping loosely at his shirt.

“i know,” you say under your breath. you take a moment to really look at him. his skin is glowing in the yellow bar light and he’s adorning that soft, goofy smile with a childlike glint in his eyes. his lips are a little chapped because he never wears the chapstick you buy him, but you know they’re still soft regardless. “you look really good right now, roos.”

he hums, thumb running along your jawline. “oh yeah?”

you nod tugging him closer. “you gonna stand here and keep teasing me or are you gonna kiss me?”

he shrugs weighing his options. “i don’t know…teasing you happens to be my favorite pastime.” he laughs when you respond with an impatient huff. “i’m kidding. kissing you is definitely my favorite pastime.”

“then prove it.”

so he does. he’s aware of his surroundings and the fact that his fleet is going to be making fun of him the next morning, but that doesn’t stop him from taking your breath away. he kisses you deeply, lips settling your impatience. when he pulls away, you kiss him once more. twice. three times.

and then he says, “just so you know, you make me all flustered and bothered too.”

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #miles teller top gun maverick #miles teller #miles teller x reader

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warnersister · 16 days

Text

Newborn Days

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Moments with his wife and newborn son

Bradley looks out through the window in front of him, sat upright in the bed, back against the headboard as he watches the sunrise. The two of you had booked a small cabin on the beach for a few weeks, just while you got your feet here in Miramar. Bradley’s grasp held you closer, he drew his eyes away from the growing horizon and down to where you were sat in his lap. Your head was dipped as you allowed your little baby boy to have his breakfast; eyes closed while he nursed gently on your swollen nipple. Bradley’s heart swelled with love as your tired eyes looked back at him, rocking gently to soothe your new son. He offered a small, loving smile as he leant to kiss your forehead.

He could get used to this.

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feralforfrank · 8 months

Note

hey ☺️

the only thing on my mind is rooster shaving his mustache for whatever reason and gf reader is upset ! silly little blurb i luv ur writing muah

the stache incident.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW X GN!READER

cw fluffy drabble ig :) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

a/n ANON!!! ILY THANK YOU FOR READING MY STUFF <3333333 much love to you, MWAH!

masterlist | taglist

You're shocked, heartbroken, in shambles, you name it. The grocery bag almost slips from your fingers when you hear the horrid sound of the electric razor from the bathroom. You place the bags on the counter before practically running inside.

You want to douse your eyes with gasoline when you see the damage. Bradley had been mentioning here and there that he wanted to shave his moustache just to see how he'd look without it. You'd forbade such talk inside the house, and he chuckled before dropping the subject.

But what seemed to be your biggest fear was becoming your new reality. With your keys clutched in one hand, the other holding on for dear life at the door frame, you watch your dear boyfriend shave the last of his moustache over the sink.

He hasn't noticed you yet. Music is playing from his phone, but you can't bring yourself to recognise the tune. This situation is way too tragic. When the buzzing sound stops emanating from the vile machine, Bradley finally turns around, having heard your panting.

"Babe, this isn't what it looks like." He speaks with hesitation and guilt.

"What did you do?" Your every word is punctuated.

Bradley opens his mouth but closes it, and you shake your head expectantly. "Well?"

"I-I was trimming it, and Din here," he looks at your cat, laying on the floor as if he's the criminal here, "came between my legs and scared me, and I moved my hand, and I shaved more than I should. It didn't look good anymore."

You scoff, pushing yourself off the doorway and turning to walk to your bedroom. Not once did you believe Bradley.

"Babe? Baby, c'mon!"

"I am not talking to you, hairless cat."

You hear him chuckle. "Hey, it's not that bad!" Bradley follows you into the bedroom.

"Never said it was." You shrug, taking your shirt off.

He's behind you in seconds, kissing your neck, his hands encircling your waist and pulling you closer. "You called me a hairless cat."

"Don't have a problem with cats. I own one." You pause, looking up. "Now, I got another one! Hm! Look at that!"

"Hey!" Bradley blows a breath where your jawline meets your ear, causing you to shiver.

You spend a few seconds like this, his hands around you, your back pressed against his smooth shirtless chest, face buried in your neck. Feels weird without the stache.

"So, you don't like it?" You realise you've spoken aloud when he questions you.

You shake your head. "I think you look attractive either way." You turn to Bradley, never escaping his grasp.

"I'm only joking. You look like a baby. It's adorable!"

Bradley looks offended. "Well, in that case, I am letting it grow and never shaving it ever again."

You grab the back of his head, kissing where he used to have perfectly trimmed hair. The spot is soft and smooth as a baby's butt.

You can't help but smile.

[ taglist @roosterschanelslut @maverick-wingman @amnmich @mattyskies @wildcole @gretagerwigsmuse @bespinnn @oikawasblueearbud @rip--tide @barryswifey @fanboyluvr @spookys-girl @lonelywitchv2 @j-deimos @heywheresemily @avengersfan25 @piceous21 @sarahjoestewy-blog @n3ssm0nique @mouseymagines @xx-kate-xx13 @vaporub4ever @reading-rosa @marie1115 @dxvanadeline @plaboneruda @awesomebooklover17 @mxlsmith @mak-32 @torresbarnes @depressed-focker @kwanimations @magicstrengthandcourage @graysondanvers @danielmarie @giuliamunson @bordelhoe @studentville-struggles @melody-death @desert-fern @marvelsimps @darling-seraphina @erinnn-brry @mvnsons-slvt @darklordofthesimp @eberles ]

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun: maverick #tg:m #rooster top gun #miles teller #miles teller x reader #fluff #top gun fanfiction #fluff and romance #frank's asks #frank writes

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oncasette · 2 years

Text

𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗬 𝗗𝗔𝗬

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: 1.3k.

“Honey, baby, sweetie pie. Light of my life. What were you expecting? No panties and my academy shirt?”

or the one where bradley comes home to find you washing some clothes. literally this is just smut babes.

warnings: smut, literally pwp, oral (f! recieving), short n sweet n to the point baby

masterlist | taglist

You were out of clothes. Totally, completely, out of underwear, out of clothes.

The only clean thing you could find was a pair of plaid pajama pants you’d stolen from your roommate in college and one of Bradley’s old naval academy tees, and while it wasn’t your most fashionable combo, it would have to make do for the couple hours it was going to take you to do laundry.

You’d just gotten your first load—of five, you’d already separated them—in the wash when you heard the key turning in the front door down the hall.

Odd. Bradley’s never home before five on weekdays. And it was one.

“Sweetheart?” you heard him call out. Yeah, it was definitely Brad.

“Mud room!” you replied before tucking the detergent back onto the shelf.

You heard him drop his keys in the bowl, his duffle by the door. His shoes must’ve been kicked off, too, because you hadn’t heard them clunking down the hall before he snuck up behind you.

“Don’t you look sexy,” he whispered, mustache brushing against your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You can feel his flight suit bunched up around his waist, tied there to give his torso more direct contact with you through the thinner fabric of his t-shirt.

“Shut up-“

“No, I’m being serious,” he chuckled. His thumbs are hooked into the waistband of your pants. Before long, all of his fingers are pushing past the elastic.

He’s not even trying to get in your pants, really, he’s just always had a fixation with skin-to-skin. Whenever possible, he’s pushing your clothes out of the way to palm at your skin.

“You’re home early,” you hummed, relaxing back into his embrace.

“Training got rained out,” he said, punctuated by a distant crackle of thunder. Huh, you hadn’t noticed it was storming. Probably due to your dirty laundry debacle.

“Good day, then?” He was always a little more chipper when it stormed. He loved flying, you knew that, but you also knew those bonus days off didn’t hurt him, either.

“Better now that I know you’re not wearing any panties,” he said, his lips catching the edge of your jaw. You can already feel the semi he’s rocking against your ass.

The washing machine shook violently as Bradley slowly walked the both of you forward until your front was pressed against it. His right hand had shifted, now fully on track to cup your bare heat with his calloused fingers. He was nothing if not efficient

“Bradley,” you panted. God, you forgot how big his hands were sometimes. His index finger just barely brushed your clit on its journey down, sending your hips jolting forward into them.

“Just be good for me, honey,” he murmured.

“Fuck me,” you groaned. He dipped two of his fingers down into your slick, spreading your essence so that he could circle your nub with ease.

“Trust me. I’m trying,” he mumbled, hips jumping to push you further into the vibrations of the machine.

“Don’t get all smart with me,” you said.

“Don’t act like you don’t love my mouth,” he said only to then attach said mouth to the hinge of your jaw. His other hand slips out of your waistband to push the thin fabric of his old shirt up your body until it's bunched above your bra-less tits.

His thumb replaces his index finger as he slides the rest of his digits lower until they’re barely brushing against your entrance. You can practically taste the whine that was building up at the base of your throat, but God if he doesn’t move his fingers, you might actually implode.

It was unfair how quickly he was able to work you up, if you were being honest.

“Don’t be mean,” you whimpered as his fingers dipped back up to circle your clit once more only to abruptly rip his hand away from your core completely a second later.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he pulls back from you enough to spin you around, lips finding yours the second you were facing him.

You’re still being pressed into the washer, legs caging you in as his hands find solace against your hip bones and he licks into your mouth. He’s so warm, even with the storm raging outside and the rain having dampened his hair slightly. Always running hot.

“You’re such a tease, you know that,” you breathed against his lips.

“Says you,” he said, shuffling the two of you over to the inactive dryer before tapping his hand against your hip. “Jump for me, baby.”

It takes him a second, having you up there and slightly above him, before he’s dropping to his knees and tugging your pants down. It isn’t as sexy as you know he wanted it to be. It takes a good bit of fidgeting and adjusting for you to get the damn things over your ass enough to pull them down your legs, and you wonder, for a second, if it would’ve just been easier to take them off when you were still standing. But, he’s so eager the thought flits out of your head before you have time to pay it any attention.

“Please,” you exhaled as he inched closer to you. Lips on the bend of your knee, hands atop of each of your respective thighs to keep them separated.

“What do you want?” he asked as he trailed his lips further up your thigh. So far you could feel his breath fanning against your weeping slit only to skip right over it and descend down your opposite leg.

“You know what I want,” you said. His stalled, breathing hitched as he adjusts himself on his knees.

“Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say it for me,” he mumbled as you threaded your fingers through his hair. It was so pretty like this, all sunkissed and blonde.

“Want you to touch me. Eat my pussy, fuck, anything you’re willing to give me,” you said finally.

Instead of responding, he fully leaned in to lick a stripe up your cunt with the flat of his tongue. God, he’s so good with his mouth. His nose catches your clit, bumping it as his mouth moves down to probe your entrance like his fingers had not even five minutes ago.

“Bradley, please.” His hands are anchored to your thighs, thumbs rubbing absentminded circles onto the exposed skin.

“Got you, baby, promise,” he mumbled, sending a pulse of vibrations through you.

He gave in then, delving into your pussy with his tongue. He’d never been able to deny you for very long. Not with the breathy moans you let slip when he kissed you, or the way you always twitched against his fingers when he touched you. Not with the way you begged him so prettily.

He brings his left hand up to rub your already throbbing clit with his thumb, the poor thing feeling abused with how hot and cold Bradley had been with it since he walked in the door. It doesn’t take long for that burning wave to start building in your abdomen, not with the way he’s drinking you in, tonguing at your spongy walls.

“‘M gonna cum,” you whimpered. He groans in reply, not daring to pull his mouth away enough to actually answer you. And you’re glad. You think you would’ve killed him if he pulled away, now.

It’s a couple more seconds–maybe, if you’re being generous–before you’re spilling onto his tongue, clenching and drooling and fully melting into him.

“So good for me,” he exhaled, panting as he pushed himself up from the ground to stand between your sticky thighs, jaw shiny and slick with your release.

“It’s a good thing I’m washing my clothes right now, or I’m sure I would’ve had to throw out another pair right then,” you said before he leaned in to peck your lips.

“Hmm, clean underwear is overrated,” he hummed as you mindlessly fiddled with the hem of his black t-shirt.

“You’re insatiable,” you say, not even sure you’re completely sated on your end.

“Honey, baby, sweetie pie. Light of my life. What were you expecting? No panties and my academy shirt?”

“It’s laundry day!”

tags-- @zeldaknight @scoopstrooop

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #top gun #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #miles teller x reader #rooster smut #bradley rooster bradshaw

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vintagemulti · 2 years

Text

rainfall

pairings: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x pilot!reader

desc: you’ve always had a thing for your best friend. this mission didn’t help.

warnings: this is quite long😵‍💫, swearing, sex references and innuendos, alcohol and drunkness, death and family member loss, dissociation mentions, i know NOTHING about pilots/flying sorry, this WILL be a series !!!

a/n: someone tell me to stop making series. i beg. this is my little writer brain not being able to watch anything without making a character WHOOPS. anyways, i’ve not seen the first top gun. so. cannon? who? we don’t know her. also i hate called bradley rooster i can’t work out why but i’ll only refer to him as it when flying. soz.

series masterlist

masterlist

you had been in bali when you got the call. you and bradley, in bali, relaxing. but who ever said naval pilots get to relax?

it was something you had gotten far too used to, having to pack up your things and get the first flight back to the states. sure, you had been the one to chose this career and the disruptions you faced were consequences of your own actions, but you had really - really, really - hoped that you didn’t get called up when you did.

two weeks in bali with bradley bradshaw, the highlight of your year. it had been planned for almost a year, which was saying something. normally you and bradley would say you’d do something, and it would never actually end up happening. but no - this vacation had went ahead, and you’d had six days of utter bliss before the dreaded number showed up on your phone.

bradley had been phoned right after you, his reaction being about the same. annoyed, upset but somewhat excited. what the fuck was all this about? both you and him being on the same mission?

and so you had packed all your stuff and made your way back to california, dropped your bags off at your separate apartments and rushed to put together an emergency bag, with your uniforms and workout clothes inside.

that took you up to now, sat in the passenger side of bradley’s new range rover, forty minutes into the drive back to the naval base on lake tahoe. it wasn’t far away now - only ten or so minutes, but the sun was beginning to slowly dip it’s head, ever so slightly.

you were still dressed in your summer clothes, a tight, black dress with white lining and held up by a strap around your neck. it was low cut, a little lower than you’d like for the first time meeting your other teammates, but there wasn’t any time to get changed.

bradley was dressed in the same way, tight white tank top covered in a hawaiian shirt, nude-coloured cargos covering his thighs. and, of course, his aviator glasses. was it really bradley without them?

he turned into one of the roads leading to the hard deck - a bar frequented by everyone within a mile vicinity - and you turned to look at him, right as the sunlight hit him. golden rays washed over his skin, his collarbones shining and under his sunglasses you could see his brown eyes - turned like honey in the light.

you thought he looked beautiful, but you’d never tell him.

“this better be good,” he spoke, breaking the moment of silence. “that hotel cost a fuckin’ fortune.”

rolling your eyes, you nodded. “you’re lucky i remembered we get travel insurance. who was it that was determined we didn’t, again?”

“oh, shut up,” bradley said, but you could see the outline of a smirk on his mouth. “no one ever told me we get that.”

“lies!” you laughed. “they put it in the ads, that if you get called up while away, they pay you back whatever you lost.”

it was bradley’s turn to roll his eyes. “alright, miss ‘i always read the fine print’.”

“at least i can read,” you joked back.

electing to ignore the snide comment he made back, you reached into the passenger side compartment, searching for your own sunglasses - feeling nothing. you looked around the car, sighing in defeat as you realised you must have left your pair at home.

spotting another pair of aviators on the dashboard, you picked them up. “can i borrow these?”

bradley looked at what you were referring to, almost laughing when he saw his spare glasses in your hand.

“go ahead, sugar, i won’t need ‘em.”

putting the sunglasses on, you pushed down the butterflies in your stomach that flew around with the pet name.

the hard deck came into view, looking busy already. it was so loud - you could practically hear the music playing from the jukebox all the way out here.

“takes you back, huh?” you asked.

“that it does,” bradley pulled into a parking spot. “feels like yesterday we were here last.”

“wrong,” you undid your seatbelt. “yesterday we were in a five star villa in bali.”

opening the car door, you stepped onto the concrete, your heels clicking against the ground. why did you wear these again? good god, it would be a long night. bradley joined you, walking towards the front door of the bar. it was so loud now - it was like you were already inside.

he pulled the door open, letting you in first. fireworks exploded all over your body as his hand moved around your waist, letting him manoeuvre himself to be standing next to you. you let him take the lead to where the rest of your team appeared to be, and you watched him walk - his swagger that was just so fucking hot almost making you forget you were stood completely still.

most of the faces you recognised - actually, you recognised all of them. pheonix, hangman, fanboy and payback we’re speaking to bradley, and someone you had recently been introduced to was the first person to notice you.

“rainfall! hey, how’s it going?” bob smiled at you, the other people snapping their heads to look at you as well.

“yeah, alright, how’re you?” you answered, him nodding a reply.

“wow,” hangman spoke first. “both rooster and rainfall arrive late, not in uniform? been busy, you two?”

“about as busy as your mum, hangman.” you retorted, those around you letting out a surprised laugh.

“that’s not the most important question,” pheonix tilted her head. “what the hell is this? what can they possibly be trying do here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, prompting her to go on; “well, we’re the best there is. who the hell can teach us?”

the question took you by surprise - but it wasn’t irrelevant. the only briefing you had was this was a training program for an intense mission, and only those who had came top of the top gun class would be accepted, so, pheonix was thinking right. who could possible teach the best pilots out there?

a bell rang throughout the bar, interrupting your thoughts. everyone cheered, knowing exactly what the bell meant.

“poor guy,” rooster mumbled. “i’m going to the restroom, get me a drink?”

you nodded, walking over to the bar.

he wasn’t recognisable at first - he looked so different. but it was the eyes that gave it away, he was still young behind the eyes.

“it’s you, then.” you mumbled, taking the empty spot next to him at the bar.

maverick looked at you, realisation hitting when he clocked who you were. “nice to meet you, rainfall. i’ve heard lost about you.”

“so have i.” looking at him, he wasn’t the man you had built up in your head. he looked nicer.

sighing, maverick nodded slowly. “i thought that’s who you came in with.”

“he won’t want you to teach him, you know that, right? you… you ruined his life, maverick. his mum’s, too.” you said, although you knew it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard a million times already.

“yep,” maverick clicked his tongue. “i thought that would be an issue.”

“he hates you.”

“i know.”

bradley might have hated maverick, but you didn’t. sure, he was an arrogant ass from what you had heard and he destroyed your best friends family, but you personally had nothing against him.

penny walked over to you, interrupting your conversation with her greetings.

“wow, y/n, you’re here too? damn, what a mission.”

“hey, pen,” you smiled. “i know, i know.”

she raised her eyebrows. “must be serious, huh?”

you raised your hands in defence. “i have absolutely no idea what this mission’s about, swear.”

humming in response, she changed the subject; “what’re you for?”

“uhh, a blue WKD for me and the house beer for brad.”

she nodded, looking at the man next to you. “he’s paying, by the way.”

you almost laughed, turning to maverick. “unlucky son of a bitch. you better take a loan out, maverick.”

“how was i meant to know the rules, huh? i’ve not been here in god knows how long.” he grumbled.

both you and penny chuckled as she served your drinks, taking one in each hand and moving away from the bar, you turned to look at maverick again.

“mav,” you called, and he looked around. “good luck.”

he smiled, nodding. you would admit it would be hard work for him, and it must be difficult to teach the boy who’s father you watched die. but then again, he could have declined the job.

spotting bradley, you walked over to him and handed him the glass of beer. he thanked you, face contorting in disgust as you noticed what you were drinking.

“i don’t know how you stomach that stuff, sugar, it’s all sweetener.”

“says the man who threw up after three of them. they’re only like, three percent as well.”

bradley narrowed his eyes. “all sweetener.”

laughing, you walked with him to join the rest of the group. your feet already began to ache with every step you took, straps digging into your ankle. god - it would be a long night.

if you were counting how many drinks deep you were, you’d have used up all your fingers. you’d been here for a few hours, at least, the sun was almost setting now.

you could see it from the small window in the bathroom, the blur effect on the window turning the sunset into just colour. you didn’t need to pee or anything, just a minute. it was a fair assumption to say you were an extrovert, and loved to be around people, but the noise of the crowd in the bar had become slightly too loud, especially as maverick had just been thrown overboard.

the sound of a piano playing came muffled through the door, followed by a familiar singing voice. it made you smile; hearing bradley drunkenly scream out ‘great balls of fire’.

washing your hands and quickly drying them, you walked back out of the bathroom and into the crowd, thanking the girl who had been holding your drink for you. you walked towards the piano, seeing bradley completely in his element.

“kiss me baby, ooh! that feels good, good!” he sang, everyone joining in.

leaning against the piano, you joined in, the lyrics coming as a second language, this song was practically indented into your brain.

as you sang, you watched bradley’s hands hit every note perfectly, his fingers tracing the keys with a gentle-harshness, something that just about set you off. a man who was good with his fingers? lord have mercy.

he looked at you, as if on cue, smiling as you sang out the words. bradley took a spilt second to remove his hands from the keys, gesturing to his lap.

you tilted your head. he can’t be serious, can he?

“sit!” he called, hands going back to playing the instrumental section.

maybe it was the drinks you’d had, influencing your system. but it took you the whole of two seconds to decide to follow his order, slipping under his arm and placing yourself down on his lap. people around you whooped, especially the ones in your team. had this happened before? you couldn’t remember through the tipsy-horny-lovesick haze that had clouded your vision.

bradley’s leg bounced, making you laughing against his chest. when he started singing, you joined in with him, your voice coming out as more of a tuned shout compared to bradley’s angelic singing voice.

“kiss me baby,” you looked up at him. that second you made eye contact - that whole second - felt like an eternity. it felt like no one was watching, thay for once the love that remained behind your eyes finally appeared behind his, too.

or maybe that was the vodka shots talking.

“ooh! that feels good, good,” he sang.

you looked away, staring at his hands once again while you sang the words. if you had kept staring, you would have seen the way he looked at you while he sang; “i’ma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine!”

if you had seen that, you probably would have melted on the spot.

the song came to an end, everyone cheering for bradley’s fantastic piano performance, yourself included. you fell against his chest, laughing like a schoolgirl. he laughed too, taking his hands off of the keys to embrace you.

was this normal for best friends, you wondered? did everyone do this when they were drunk? the answer: wait and find out.

“i’m gonna get a drink,” you smiled at him, finally standing up.

“alright, darlin’, get me a beer?”

“god,” you feigned annoyance. “one day you’ll pay for your own beers, bradley bradshaw.”

you walked away before you heard his mumbled comeback; “yeah, our wedding day.” but, even if you hadn’t walked away, what would you have done?

walking to the bar, you leaned against it, ordering with penny for the god-knows-how-many-th time that night.

“thanks,” you smiled.

“is that a tan line i see?” penny asked, pouring out a beer.

“yep,” you popped the ‘p’. “i was in bali with brad, was supposed to be there until next week.”

“oh,” she sat down one of the glasses. “but you got called up?”

nodded, you took a drink of bradley’s beer, instantly regretting it. “fuckin’ hate the navy sometimes.”

penny stopped in her tracks. “oh, y/n, did i just hear what i think i did?”

your eyes widened. “no, penny, please, i’m seriously broke right now, i’m begging-”

the bell ringing cut you off. hanging your head, you felt multiple people clap your back.

“oh, no, what do we have here?” bradley appeared at your side, laughing.

“this one,” penny giggled. “was insulting the navy.”

bradley exaggerated a gasp, putting his hands over his mouth. “no!”

“yep!”

“tut, tut, tut, lieutenant l/n!” he joked.

you raised your middle finger in response.

“honestly, rooster,” penny was half way away, walking to serve another customer. “get your girlfriend under control!”

the heat rose to your cheeks, head snapping up. luckily for you, you were ninety-nine percent sure that bradley didn’t hear her, but when you were sober, you’d have to tell her off about almost spilling your decade long secret.

“my god, brad,” you walked away from the bar. “i’m gonna be so broke tomorrow.”

he giggled, a sound your drunk mind would have registered as the trumpets of heaven, the best music in the world - every lovely sound put together. god, how in love were you?

“come on, rainfall,” bradley led you to the table the group were all sat at. “the night is young!”

there’s a saying, if you had a dollar for every time this happened, you’d be rich. well, if you had a dollar for every time you’d gotten blackout drunk the day before the first day of training and had to get up at the crack of dawn, you’d have slightly too many dollars. every time, every single time.

as you sat, shoulders straight and hair tied ever so slightly too tight, the commander speaking about something you weren’t properly listening to - the thought of about seventy aspirin was popping into your mind, almost soothing your headache with the sheer thought of it.

footsteps came from behind you, but you didn’t turn around. you knew who it was. instead, you looked at bradley, who was sat in the chair next to you.

as his eyes fell on maverick, you noticed the way his whole smug demeanour fell - for just a moment. you then noticed how he put those walls straight back up, clenching his jaw and shifting in his seat. he cleared his throat, making eye contact with you and raising his eyebrows.

looking away, maverick started speaking.

you must have been truly hungover, because from the second maverick opened his mouth to right now felt like it went by in a blink - you couldn’t tell if you had dissociated the entire time or if you weren’t interested enough to actually pay attention.

zipping up your flight suit, you smiled to yourself. this was your first training exercise for what seemed to be an impossible mission. getting in and out of a thin passage within a minute and a half seemed unrealistic, but compared with the insanely low hard deck and the pull up? you’d be lucky if you made it out alive.

a few planes were already in the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, helmet in hand. looking to your right, you saw two planes, to your left; pheonix and bob doing push-ups.

the exercise was simple; don’t get caught. if you do, you have to do two hundred press ups.

you had almost laughed when maverick set the exercise, how insanely easy it sounded. unfortunately for maverick, he had never flown with you before - he hadn’t quite learnt the meaning of your call sign.

radio chatter sounded from your headset as you climbed into your plane, spotting bradley on the tarmac as well. everyone had insisted you two went last - the top two of the class. even hangman bit back his ego for two seconds to admit that you had finished top of the class, so you should go last.

that’s right, you came top of your class. one of the best pilots of the last decade, apparently. it had earned you quite a reputation, pilots almost always recognising you wherever you went. you were some kind of a legend.

buckling yourself in and triple checking your belts were secure, you pulled your helmet over your head, and your ears were filled with radio chatter. bradley got into the plane next to you, doing the same thing.

“when are we ready to take off, mav?” you asked, closing the top of your plane.

“any time now, rainfall.” he replied.

it was a feeling you always craved, taking off. as a little girl, you used to love going on holiday, just because when the plane would take off and your stomach would turn, it made you smile. from that moment, and from the moment you saw the pilots in all the different documentaries, you knew you wanted to fly planes.

just in a little more extreme way. a way, way more extreme way.

gaining speed, you clicked the needed buttons and flipped the right switches in order to take off, and the tarmac got smaller and smaller as you flew higher into the sky. hearing bradley take off a few moments later, you knew the game was about to begin.

you knew this would be personal for bradley - getting beaten by maverick. anything maverick did to him, it would be personal. you prayed he would be able to separate the pilot from the person, just for a minute.

“good morning aviators,” maverick spoke. “ready to play?”

“oh you are on,” you smiled, still gaining height. “old man.”

bradley laughed over the radio, making you smile even wider.

“for everyone listening over the radio,” you spoke. “get ready to listen to the best flight of your life.”

down on the ground, the rest of the team laughed.

“ready?” maverick asked. “three, two, one… the game has begun.”

you understood the purpose of this exercise - dogfighting. to watch out for yourself while attacking at the same time. playing both offence and defence.

seeing bradley slip into your peripheral, you looked around for the other plane. still gaining height, you hoped to god that your technique would stay reliable.

everything felt like a blur - you were flying so fast, so high, nothing felt real. keeping your eye out for maverick, you swerved through the clouds.

“all alright, rooster?” you hated calling him by his call sign. if felt so… impersonal, weird.

“all good here, rainfall. you?”

you nodded, even though he wouldn’t see it. “no sign of him.”

looking down, you could see bradley underneath you and to the right. he wouldn’t even notice you, if he hadn’t learnt to always look up.

“oh hello, you,” he said, the smugness seeping through the radio.

“hello, rooster.” you smiled.

as you stared down at him, a second plane came into view, far enough away that bradley wouldn’t notice him.

“rooster, on your left!” you called, swerving away as soon as you said it.

“shit,” he mumbled, and you could see him fly away.

“language, folks, come on.” maverick laughed.

“alright grandpa.” you joked back.

looking below you, you could barely see the two planes dogfighting, but from the small glimpse you got, it wasn’t looking great for bradley. maverick was too fast.

“hurry up, rooster,” you spoke your mind. “he’s faster than you.”

“yeah, thanks for that observation.” he grumbled back.

“cheeky.”

from your point of view, the dogfighting was getting even more intense, bradley constantly being tailed by maverick. you hoped once again, that bradley didn’t take this too seriously.

a dial tone broke your thought.

“and rooster, you are out.” maverick spoke over the radio, making you sigh.

“fuck you.”

and there it was; all of your proof that bradley had taken it personally. fuck, this would be a hard one to calm him down from.

“ready to fight, rainfall?” maverick said, and you could almost see his smirk.

pushing everything else in your mind to the side, you let the calm, slightly arrogant side of you take control.

“do you know why my call sign is rainfall?” you asked, already spotting maverick below you.

“i suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”

you let a beat of silence pass, making sure you were in the right position. it was obvious maverick was looking for you, but you were at least fifty feet above him, slightly in front of him. why did no one ever look up?

“or not?” maverick added.

“because,” you paused, gripping your gearstick a little tighter. “rain always comes from above, and you don’t see it until it’s on you.”

with those words, you descended with absolutely no warning. as you came closer to maverick, he seemed obviously surprised, fumbling for a moment to move out of the way so you didn’t fall straight into him.

“jesus, kid,” he mumbled.

“did you know that i came top of my class?” you pulled back up without hesitation, g-force pushing you back ever so slightly.

“yeah, i read it somewhere,” maverick was flying parallel to you. “i wasn’t too of my class.”

“oh, i know,” you somehow managed to keep your tone casual. “iceman, right?”

maverick hummed over the radio, obviously too focused on getting you out.

but your technique was working perfectly. descend on them, climb up, and when the least expect it….

pulling away, you circled around maverick, seeing the outline of a target appear in your helmet. he hadn’t even realised what you had done.

a dial tone sounded through the radio silence, everyone on land holding their breath - even bradley.

“you,” a voice cut through the radio. “are out. good game, maverick.”

the people on ground cheered almost loud enough for you to hear all the way up in the air.

“what the hell?” maverick was in disbelief. “what?”

“i’ll see you on ground, mav.”

the sun was already setting by the time maverick had finished his press ups. he must not have taken in personally, offering to buy you a drink for how well you had flown.

but you didn’t want a drink, you were too concerned with other things. it had been hours since the training had ended, and bradley was still outside, doing press ups.

you walked onto the tarmac, out of your flight suit and in casual clothes, the figure of bradley noticeable - everything still apart from him.

he was shaking, sweating, almost sunburnt. the most noticeable thing was his red eyes, they were so red you thought he must have burst a blood vessel.

“bradley?” you called, getting closer to him. he didn’t answer.

walking right next to where he was, you sat down. sat, right on the hot tarmac - it heated up your legs. “bradley, please,” you called again.

this wasn’t new - for him to do exercise until he just about burst. some people punch walls, some people drink - bradley worked out. maybe it was just as unhealthy as every other coping mechanism.

his arms were so shaky, he almost couldn’t even keep himself up right. you wanted right then and there to take him into your arms, let him cry his heart out and tell him that one day - one day in the future - it will get easier.

as if he could hear your thoughts, he stopped. collapsed onto the ground, arms finally giving in. you could hear him, choking out sobs between breaths - it just about broke your heart.

“come here,” your fingers brushed his arm, and it was like he just needed the instruction to do so, because he moved into your arms and clung onto your shirt, just like a baby.

you didn’t care where you were. no one was looking, anyway. everyone went home or went elsewhere hours ago, you and bradley were most likely the only two people left there.

“what is it?” you cooed, gently running a hand through his hair.

“he- my dad, he- maverick-” and that was all he had to stutter out for you to understand.

“i know, i know,” you bent over him, almost encasing him in your body. kissing his head, you repeated the phrase over and over again.

it was in that moment that for the second time in twenty four hours you thought to yourself - is this normal for best friends to do? it is, right? like, you would do it for any of your other friends?or maybe that’s what you liked to tell yoursef to deny the simple fact;

you were in love with bradley bradshaw, your best friend.

4K notes · View notes

cherryblossom-enthusiast · 2 years

Text

Thunk! (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

I watched Top Gun: Maverick. Need I say more for the motivation to write this short little fic? If I continued this short little fic, would be people be interested in reading it? Let me know! Otherwise, pour in some requests for me. I’ve got the rare motivation to actually write.

Summary: You’re dying from the heat of the sun, but some are worth the burning feeling. One of them is Bradley Bradshaw.

In other words: You’re hot and sweaty, but so is Bradshaw and it may just be the thing to make you go haywire. That and the football he accidentally hit your head with.

Fluff(?)

Words: 1.1k

Part 2

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

The heat was sweltering and that was putting it mildly.

“Beer?”

You look up from your book as a cold bottle touches your cheek making you flinch a little. Way too eager to get any sort of salve, you take the bottle quickly almost spilling it. “Don’t mind if I freaking do.”

Penny, your aunt Penny that is, slides onto the bench chair in front of you, a similar drink in her own hands. Taking a small swig of her beer, she nods at the paperback in your hands. “How is it?”

You shrug as you take your own slow sip. “Decent.”

A small but all-knowing grin slowly etches itself on her lips. “Hm, okay.” Her tone sardonic. It makes you want to wipe the expression off her stupidly pretty face, but you hold off on saying anything else. Anything, and you mean anything is ammo for teasing when it comes to this woman and she’s been going strong for the past couple of weeks.

“Spend the next couple of months with Penny.” Your mother had almost ordered you to do. Fresh out of university in the standard 4-year period time-frame. You weren’t one to take breaks, never have been. Throwing your body into lectures, your student life flew by and before you knew it, that part of your life was over.

No parties, no hangouts, just you, your copy of Pride and Prejudice, and your cat Judy.

In a brief, terrible miscalculation of saying your thoughts out loud in front of your mother, she then pushed you into taking a couple months off from looking for a “forever job” and booked you a plane ticket straight to this beach instead.

And that leaves you here. 2 weeks later from flying in an airplane by yourself for the first time.

Almost hurling the contents of your stomach in the process.

You were definitely not looking forward to going home.

You both fall into comfortable silence for a small while until you pick up your beer bottle and put it to your sweaty, otherwise blotchy cheek once more. Not missing a beat, Penny comments on it immediately. “You know, the bar has a multitude of problems, but the AC is not one of them.” She places her elbows on the table and rests her chin on one of her palms. “ I know you get hot easily kiddo, why don’t you read inside?”

Tapping the bottle, you instantly avoid the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Uh- just,-“ shit. You thought. This woman was good, too damn good at getting under your skin. “Just wanted some fresh air?”

Why’d you fucking question yourself?

“This the same girl who hates hiking, biking, running, and otherwise any other activity that ends with “ing” that happens outdoors?”

“I don’t hate them, I’m just not very good at them.” You defended, eyes still averting all over the place.

Another swig of beer as she raises her eyebrows. “Riiiight,” she elongates her speech, making it sound as sarcastic as possible. She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before another, much huskier voice screams at the both of you.

“Heads up!”

Oh boy you thought. Here we go again.

The football slams against your head, hard enough that an audible thunk! rang in your ears. Your shoulders tense and letting out an “ow” you palm against your skull to rub at the site of impact.

Penny puts the teasing on hold and immediately scans you over for any injuries. “Oh shit, are you okay?” She asks, voice dipped in worry.

You manage to say “All good.” With a small grimace, eyes still squinted.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m really sorry about that.”

It was like alarm bells rang in your head. That voice you thought. God, it was pathetic it affected you that much.

Completely forgetting about the aching for a brief while, you turn your head to the new figure beside you and sweet mother Mary, you almost regret it on the spot.

You come face to bare-chest with Bradley fucking Bradshaw.

You quickly avert your eyes once more. You’d been doing that a lot today and it was kind of getting tiring if you were being honest with yourself. Just getting attacked on all fronts you supposed.

It’s like he covered himself in baby oil or something.

There’s a hitch in your breathing that you really hope Penny doesn’t notice. “I’m uh- I’m fine-“you stutter “I’m just- I’m good.”

Nice. Great job.

“You sure?” He asks, moving his head to try and catch your gaze. “Is there any way I can say sorry or make it up to you?”

Honestly, just stand there and look pretty.

“No, I’m good, it’s no problem.”

The man was not taking that as an answer. “Look, I think we’re about done anyways, and getting a couple of drinks after getting changed- That is to say Penny’s open tonight.” He directs his question to your aunt with a hopeful smile and she just nods her head with that sly glint. “Can I repay you with some drinks?”

You weren’t a drinker and it was for good reason. Just as you were about to tell him not to worry about it once more, your aunt beat you to a reply. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it Bradshaw.” She answered for you. “As long as you don’t cheap out on her drinks.”

He just let out a scoff and rolled his eyes in amusement. “Pen, I know I can be an asshole, but I don’t think I’m that much of an asshole.”

You finally meet his gaze and he lifts the corners of his lips into another apologetic smile. “I guess I’ll be seeing you at 9 tonight.” This man is putting his full sincerity into his apology and you’re only hearing words buzz. Half of the reason being your head was still kind of aching and the other half because his sweat-slicked abs were still on full display in front of you. “Sorry again, about that.”

Not being able to come up with any other intelligible reply, you simply purse your lips and nod.

Bradshaw finally leaves your vicinity and it feels like you can breathe again. You let out a sigh and blow a piece of your hair away from your face. You notice Penny’s signature smirk and your mouth turns into a flat shape. “You knew didn’t you?”

“Anybody would know in 2 seconds.” She shrugs . “Also, your paperback’s been upside down the whole time you’ve been out here.”

You groan, slamming your already injured head onto the table in hopes that it would just knock you out cold. “He’s just stupidly hot.”

“And I just got that stupidly hot guy to buy you drinks so I deserve a thank you.” She states proudly as she finishes her beer. “Now go home, get changed, consume alcohol, and live a little.”

You hear her rise up from the bench in front of you, probably getting ready to handle her rowdy bar for the night. Before she leaves, you can’t help but make a small jab of your own. “Yeah, well take your own advice and screw Mitchell already.”

“I already have, and I’m not planning to again” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Yet.”

“Ewww.”

“Hey, you serve snarky, you get snarky.”

#top gun maverick #top gun #miles teller #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #Tom cruise #x reader #top gun fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #fanfic

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Faking It | Part III

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Ahhh you guys! Thank you so much for all the love on this story! Your comments truly make my day! Here is Part 3.. I actually had to split it up because it was too long.. oops XD

Hope you like it!

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: swearing, clingy ex, and a bit of protective Bradley for you (just a taste of what's to come, really)

Start from the beginning: Part I

You douse your face in one final misting of setting spray and, with your eyes closed, fan yourself with your hands.

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes fly open and, in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, you see Bradley standing in the open doorway with a curious expression on his face. “Setting my makeup,” you say matter-of-factly, as if you’re surprised that he’s not familiar with the practice.

He nods slowly. “Are you almost done in here?” he asks. “I was going to take a shower.”

“I’m done,” you say, zipping up your makeup bag. You squeeze past him in the doorway, careful not to let any part of you brush up against any part of him.

Bradley lifts his eyebrows, watching you squirm, and then narrows his eyes. “Everything alright?” he asks, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tries to suppress a grin.

You glance up at him just as you clear his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He surveys your face suspiciously. Though, after a moment, he seems to reconsider interrogating you, turning and disappearing into the bathroom. Before the door is fully shut, however, he opens it again, sticking his head out and asking, “Will I see you before you go?”

You meet his gaze as you lift your bag onto the bed. “Depends on how long you’re planning on showering,” you respond.

Bradley purses his lips, but you can still detect the slim smile playing on his face. “I won’t be long,” he says. “Will you wait?”

You blink at him. “I’ll wait,” you say, suddenly curious as to why he’s insisting on seeing you again before you leave.

Once he’s gone, you dig into your bag to pull out the sparkly, black dress you purchased for the occasion. You slip into the outfit, adjusting the twisted straps and pulling on the hem that had not appeared as short in the store’s changing room as it does in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the paneled wall of the chalet. It will, without a doubt, be riding up your thighs all evening. Nonetheless, the dress looks stunning on you, and you turn to the side, admiring your figure in the reflection.

You’re just touching up your hair when Bradley walks out of the bathroom, pulling a tank top over his head. When he sees you, he stops abruptly at the foot of the bed.

You look at him questioningly. “Am I in your way?” you ask, shifting closer to the wall.

“No, no,” he says, still staring at you. “You can stand anywhere you like,” he adds, waving his arm to indicate the entire space of the room.

“Thank you?” you say.

He lets out a resolute sigh and his expression darkens slightly. “Thanks for waiting,” he says, walking over to his bag.

You follow him with your eyes, but he seems distracted and isn’t looking at you anymore, so you bend down to slip on your heels. They are extremely high and extremely uncomfortable but, most importantly, they are extremely sexy. So, in summary, they rock. You straighten your back just as Bradley returns, his eyes sweeping over your face as he nears.

“You’re getting there,” he says, holding his hand over your head and measuring your new height against himself.

“Fuck off,” you say, laughing and giving his shoulder a hard smack, which sends you stumbling backward.

Bradley’s reaction is instantaneous; he steps forward, his arm sliding behind your waist before you fall to the floor. “Well, that was an overreaction,” he says, a lopsided grin on his face.

He helps you regain your footing but, with his hand still on your back, you are unquestionably at risk of losing it again. “Shut up, Bradshaw,” you say, ignoring the literal sparks set off by the friction of his fingers as they trail down to your hip. “You want me to hit you again?”

Bradley chuckles and you realize just how close he is when his breath washes over your cheek. “Kind of,” he admits. You glance up at him and he sucks in his cheeks, fighting to keep a straight face. “But you should probably pick on someone your own size,” he adds, his smirk widening.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. Bradley’s hand is slowly sliding down your side and you wish he would release you already. At the same time, you wish he would take a hold of you somewhere between your waist and your hip – you’re not too picky – and yank you forward unceremoniously, without any regard for the delicate material of your dress or the unpredictable nature of the situation. He could bring you in right up against his body and you could look up into his eyes and – fuck.

No, not that. No, you wouldn’t fuck. Yet.

You let out a sigh, realizing that the two of you have been staring at one another for the entire time you’ve been picturing him –

“I have something for you,” he says.

You break eye contact first. Because the tips of his fingers still lingering on your hip send wave after wave of exhilaration through you that you have intended to repress for the remainder of the trip. And looking at him only seems to be making it worse. “Okay,” you say, taking a step back.

He holds out his hand and you reach for it instinctively. He drops a small cannister into your palm.

You raise your eyebrows. “Pepper spray?” you ask. “Where do you think I’m going?”

“Just take it,” he says. “You never know.”

You take the bottle from his hand. “This is such an eyesore,” you say, stuffing it into your tiny purse and trying to zip it up over the bulge it’s created.

“Do you know how to use it?” he asks, ignoring your grumbling.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“That’s not good enough,” he says. “Let’s practice.”

You scoff. “Are you kidding, Bradshaw? I have to go.”

“This isn’t the same as setting your makeup,” he says, reaching for your purse and extracting the cannister.

“You mean I don’t aim it at my own face?”

He gives you a humorless look as though he’s severely unimpressed. Then, he holds the bottle out in front of himself. “You want to hold it against your palm,” he says.

“Is that what I want to do?” you say mockingly.

Bradley looks over at you crossly. “This is serious.”

You watch him with a small smile. “I know, okay? Safety off, press the red button.”

Bradley hands you the cannister. “Show me.”

You sigh audibly, making sure he’s amply aware of just how annoyed you are. You hold your hand out straight in front of you and pretend to push the red button with your index finger. But before your finger even touches the button, Bradley grabs the spray right out of your hand and points it at you. You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “You did not just do that,” you say.

“This isn’t a joke,” he says. “You’re holding it wrong.”

“Bradley, I am late. Come on!”

“You want to keep” – Bradley starts, then pauses, giving you an irritated look before rewording his instructions – “you’re going to keep the cannister closer to your body, while holding your other arm out to make sure your assailant can’t get near it.” Bradley demonstrates the position as he walks you through it. “You’re going to hold down the actuator with your thumb. That will make it easier for you to aim and harder for someone to grab it out of your hand.”

“Look, I don’t have time right now for a lesson in self-defence,” you say. “Maybe tomorrow during the wedding speeches, alright?”

He watches you coolly. “Try it again,” he says.

“For fuck’s sake, Bradshaw!” you groan. “You know, I have gone out before. This isn’t my first time –”

“Humor me,” he says, holding the cannister out. “Please.”

You take the cannister from him and bring it to your chest, holding out your other arm with your palm facing out just as he’d demonstrated.

Bradley walks around you and places his hand over yours on the pepper spray. “That’s a little too close,” he says somewhere in the vicinity of your ear.

A little too close, indeed.You hold back a shiver, looking up at him as he lowers his face to examine your grip on the bottle.

He brings his hand up to reposition your arm. “Hold it tightly, like you’re making a fist around it,” he says. He squeezes his fingers around your hand while you try to contend with your galloping heart as it knocks around inside of you as though it’s determined to break free of your ribcage.

You close your eyes when his chest brushes your shoulder. “I think I get it, Bradley,” you say quietly. “Thanks.” You step away and drop the cannister into your purse. Swinging your purse over your shoulder, you look back to see him watching you soberly. “Have a good night,” you say.

He nods. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You step outside and close the door behind yourself, letting out a long sigh. But your hand doesn’t even release the doorknob when it turns in your grasp and the door is pulled open. You look up at Bradley, who nearly runs into you trying to get outside.

He presses his lips together into a smile. “I, uh, forgot to say have fun,” he mutters sheepishly.

You stare at him in a daze. He’s backlit with the warm lamplight coming from inside the room and his stupid, lopsided grin is summoning more butterflies than your stomach could handle. “Yeah,” you respond, tapping on the bulge in your purse. “So far, so good.”

He chuckles lightly. Then, his eyes drop momentarily before meeting your gaze once again. “You look nice,” he says.

You roll your eyes and start to turn away. “There’s nobody around, Bradshaw,” you say, making your way toward the road. “Who’re you trying to impress?”

“You?” he calls.

You laugh, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you shake your head. “Have a good night,” you call back after looking away. You raise your arm over your head to wave goodbye as you walk.

…

“What is he doing here?” you say when you spot Steven making his way through the crowd to get to your table at the club.

Your sister, who is already heavily inebriated, blinks in the direction you are looking. “Aww,” she says. “Are you guys back together?”

You roll your eyes at her and glare up at Steven as he slides into your booth.

“This is a private party,” you say incredulously. You’re a bit concerned that your first thought upon seeing him is to reach into your purse for Bradley’s pepper spray. Unfortunately, wiping the idiotic grin off Steven’s face is not exactly its intended use.

“How private are we talking?” Steven wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Your fingers curl around the cannister in your purse. “You need to leave,” you say.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says. “I just need a minute.”

“Give him a minute!” one of your sister’s friends chimes in.

“He’s so romantic!” another girl squeals and you throw her an annoyed look.

“Why aren’t you at the Bachelor party, Steven?” you ask, shoving him out of the booth to avoid further mediation from the other well-meaning bridesmaids.

“Let’s dance,” he says, pulling you to your feet.

“I’m not dancing with you!” you say through gritted teeth, wrenching your hands free of his grasp.

“Y/N,” he says. “We don’t have to get married, okay? I’m over it.”

“Oh, you’re over it?” You let out a spiteful laugh. When, two months ago, Steven had proposed to you and you insisted on taking some time to think about it, he blew a goddamn gasket. Now, apparently, he’s over it.

“We can do whatever you want,” he says, his hands curling around your arms to bring you closer.

You struggle against his grip. “I don’t want anything,” you respond in exasperation.

“I love you, okay?” he says forcefully, pulling you closer so that he can nudge your head with his. You detect the alcohol on his breath. “Why do you think I came to this stupid wedding?”

“Let go of me,” you say, ripping his hands off and backing away. “You need to leave,” you repeat threateningly.

He shakes his head. “You know you still love me.” He watches you levelly as the girls in the booth make whooping and kissing noises.

You continue glaring at him angrily. “I’m dating Bradley,” you say.

“But you’re not in love with him,” he says confidently. You wish you could slap him.

“He’s a good guy,” you say, trying to justify yourself even though you don’t owe him an explanation.

“If you say so.”

“If he finds out you came here –”

“He doesn’t have to find out,” Steven says, stepping closer to you again.

“Steven, I don’t want to be with you!” you yell. “I’m over it. Over you.”

He narrows his eyes. Then he laughs derisively, shaking his head. “You’re making a mistake.” He turns to leave.

You let out a breath, your body shaking with anger as you watch him disappear into the crowd. Then, you rejoin the girls at the table and pick up the bottle of Grey Goose out of the ice bucket. “Let’s do this,” you say, nodding at the shot glasses on the sparkly tabletop.

You’re done thinking about Steven. You’re done thinking about Bradley. What you’re going to do now is get wasted.

Read Part IV

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments.

You guys, I'm sorry to say this but these tag lists are getting a bit out of control haha I'll also be closing the Rooster one shortly. I *might* re-open it in the future, possibly with some sort of automation so that there's less room for error XD

I'll add the first few tag list requests on this post as well but I'm really sorry if I don't get to you. Please know that I love and appreciate your support! Feel free to follow my blog or check back for updates if you don't end up on a list <3 I update my stories fairly often!

Story requests are still open for Top Gun and TGM! I'm trying to practice the art of the short story (which truly is an art!), so please feel free to contribute a prompt!

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2K notes · View notes

intoanotherworld23 · 2 months

Text

Porn And Play

Summary: Bradley comes home to find you touching yourself while watching porn, and instead of stopping you he wants you to continue

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Word count: 2.5k+ words

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Warnings: there is smut, sex, masturbation, mention of porn, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, spanking, dirty talk

A/N: If you like this please let me know in the comments and be sure to reblog it would be greatly appreciated! My tag list is always open all you have to do is ask! Thank you so much everyone for your continued support! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Turn it on."

"Bradley please-"

"I said turn it back on now." Bradley says sternly his eyes squinting at you on the bed.

Feeling like you were going to throw up as your hands shook turning on the laptop to the video you were watching before he came home. Bradley smirking as he watches you then get comfortable on the bed.

Of all the intimate things that have gone on in this bedroom something like this has never happened. Not once has he ever seen you touch yourself, and he was getting excited at the thought.

Soon as you press play on the video you were watching minutes ago. He gives you this mischievous look that makes you swallow a lump forming in your throat.

"Well," he starts off as he unbuttons his shirt. "Keep doing what you were doing."

Taking a huge intake of breath as your hand drops down between your legs. Touching your incredibly wet folds not sure what to do with Bradley standing basically between your legs.

Moving your fingers up and down to gather the juices on your own fingers lubing yourself up. Gathering up some confidence as you pushed them inside of yourself. Opening your mouth open slightly already use to the feeling of your own fingers.

Hearing the over exaggerated moans on the computer screen. Feeling slightly embarrassed for being caught watching this while Bradley was away. Bradley however was focused on you and not the porn right in front of him.

Looking down to what you were doing ashamed to even look at him. Thrusting your fingers in and out a small moan escaping your lips. Straightening up as you cleared your throat awkwardly.

Quickly glancing at Bradley to see him grinning devilishly. The only clothing he had left on were his underwear. He was eagerly waiting in anticipation to when he could jump in.

He was intrigued watching you like this. It was almost like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to see what happens next. Your cheeks become warm as you hold his gaze.

"Just like that sweetheart." His hand rubbing himself through his boxers hoping to ease the pressure.

Your fingers stopping their movements for the slightest second. Bradley saw this and groaned with disapproval.

"Did I tell you to stop?" Taking another deep breath as you keep going.

Bradley couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore as you feel him grasp onto your ankle. The sudden touch had you jump. That didn't stop him though as he moved his hand up your leg. Massaging the flesh smoothly and in a comforting way that didn't intimidate you too much.

As you looked over quickly to the screen the woman was being fingered by some buff male. Her body writhing on the bed as the camera panned in on his fingers thrusting into her violently.

"I want you to come apart on your fingers." His hand pushed your thighs further apart so he could get a better look. "I know you can do it darling."

That was more than enough motivation for you as your fingers were slamming into you. The palm of your hand smacking against your pelvis. It felt good but it wasn't enough for you, and you needed Bradley.

"Bradley." Whining as you ground your hips into the mattress.

"What baby?" His hands now on your upper thigh so close yet so far away.

"Bradley please." Begging him without saying anything he knew what you needed.

He moves closer to you as his hand touches your pussy. Softly rubbing his thumb back and forth on your clit. The powerful sensation had your toes curling and your back arching off the bed. All you needed was his touch on yours, and Bradley secretly knew that.

Looking up at him to see his jaw clench, and his eyes wide with lust. Seeing this look on his face your now glad that Bradley caught you watching porn otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

"Keep fucking yourself." He grunts as he kisses the top of your knee. "I know you're so close."

You nod in obedience. A soft smile glistening on his hips for your full submission. He could see you like this all the time. It was the hottest thing he's ever bared witness to.

Eyes glancing over at the screen again the man was now thrusting into the woman not waiting or anything. Her moans were turning into wails as he railed her into the mattress. The sounds alone had your ears feeling like they were on fire from embarrassment.

"Is that what you like?" You had to make sure to answer him carefully.

"I want you Bradley." Shaking your head hoping your words would sway him. "Only you."

"Good." The pace of his fingers in match with your fingers inside of yourself.

It felt like your vision was getting hazy between your fingers and his. Any second now you could cum around your fingers, and he knew this judging by the look on your face.

"It hurts." Bradley hums at your words as he licks his lips.

"Does it?" Cocking his head to the side.

"Yes daddy it does." Hearing you call him daddy sends him over the edge. He had a weakness whenever you'd whisper that name. It always did something to him.

Not wasting another second in taking off his boxers tossing them somewhere in the room. Your fingers removing themselves as you laid back legs spread waiting for him with a slight glimmer in your eye.

"Does my baby want me to fuck her?" Bradley says as he waits for your response.

"Yes daddy I need to feel you inside me."

Bradley then crawls up your body his mouth kissing up your trembling stomach. His mustache brushing against your skin making your body jolt. A trail of saliva follows the movements of his mouth. Your hands on either side of your head as your chest rose up and down heavily.

"Are you ready for me?" He asked against your breast biting down on your nipple making you cry out.

"Mhm." Breathing out harshly.

"What's that?" Cocking his head to the side not accepting that reply.

"Yes daddy."

Before you could say anything else his mouth is right on yours. Taking your lips against his like they were the last drop of water. He was thirsty for you, and planned on swallowing every last drop of you.

His tongue feels so incredible against yours. The sensation for both of you is becoming insatiable. He craves every inch of you. His hand reaches up and holds your jaw in his hands. The warmth of his hand pressed against your skin gave you a comforting feeling. Almost like he was telling you that you were safe with him.

"Don't think we need this anymore." Quickly turning the computer off so you could solely focus on each other.

"You won't be needing to watch porn like this anymore." His words more like a command than a request. "I wanna show you how much better the real thing is."

Bradley watches your face as he nudges his cock towards your now dripping pussy, his large and swollen head disappearing between your folds. Finally moving forward even more.

Bracing himself against your hips as the air seems to leave your lungs. Both of you watching as his cock stretches you out. Silently cursing to himself when he sees how you welcome him. Gritting his teeth as his hands on either side of you grip on the sheets beneath him.

Bradley would never get used to the feeling of how tight you felt around him. It was almost like a soft velvety feeling he wanted to wrap himself around.

"No more of this shit I mean it." He growled kissing you hard. "You will only fucking cum for me and nobody else."

Mumbling his name with a whine, but that seemed to only delay his actions.

"Do you understand me sweetheart?" His cock still inside of you as he waited for your response.

"Yes daddy." That was good enough for him.

Moving his hips back as he pushed forward to fill you to the brim. Your head feeling back against the pillows reaching forward to grab onto his butt. His cheeks clenching as they flexed when he pressed into you.

"For now." Mumbling just under a whisper.

"Excuse me?"

Before you could repeat what you just said he's already flipped you over so that your on your stomach. Pulling your hips up so your on your hands and knees. Smacking your ass leaving a slight sting.

Unable to catch your breath he pushes back into you. Without another hesitation he's thrusting with the same rhythm and motion as before. Hands glued to your sides as he pulled you back to meet his hips.

"What did you fucking say?" He hissed each word being spoke along with a thrust.

His hand coming down on your ass again. Your skin felt like it was on fire the way he was controlling your body. He loved seeing you like this though.

"Nothing." Stuttering as you buried your head into the pillow.

"Uh Uh Uh." He tsked at you.

"Nothing daddy." Responding as you wiggled your hips teasing him even further.

"That's what I thought. That's better."

Bradley wasn't going to have that though. He wanted you to know that he was in charge, and wasn't going to put up with your back talking. All he wanted was to hear your words to him, and how badly you wanted it.

"Beg." Was all he said making you whine as he stopped his movements. "Beg for me."

Feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed to know you've gotta beg for him like a pathetic desperate whore.

"Beg for my cock and I'll give you what you want." His voice a touch softer as he pleaded with you. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Bradley I want your cock so badly please." You started off but he wanted more. "It hurts so much please I want you and only you. Nobody can make me feel the way that you do."

He was loving this more than he should.

"Fuck me so hard with your cock I can't walk for a week."

With that he begins such a unmerciful pace that has your body and the bed rocking. He wants you to know he's in charge, and that he's the only man you ever need in your life.

He's drinking in every detail. The way your ass jiggles each time he pushes forward, the way your pussy clenches when he pulls out, and the sounds coming from your lips. He wants to savor each moment like it's the last time.

"Such a good girl for me letting me fuck you like this." He praised sweating dripping down his forehead.

Bradley knows by your body that you aren't far, and your so close to the heavens he wants to help bring you to it. Wants to hear you scream his name as you cream around his cock.

"Bradley." The way you said his name was like a warning.

"What baby?" He made fun as he kissed your shoulder blade. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so close." Is all you can say which is the truth. Any moment now and you'd be drenching his cock with your juices.

Weaving his fingers through your hair slightly tugging pulling your neck back. Mouth hanging open as you waited to see what he would do next. You never knew with Bradley. One minute he could be cool and collected, and then next thing he's red with rage and unable to control his actions.

"Don't you want to cum around my cock?" He questioned with a grin on his face.

"Yes Bradley please so badly." You mewl pathetically.

Your body is beyond spent, and your arms and legs are trembling and shaking to the point you become numb. A tear rolling down your cheek, and Bradley is able to glance a peek.

"So fucking good for me baby." Clenching his jaw as a hand reached forward to grab your shoulder to have more leverage.

You can feel his breath on the back of your shoulder as he hovers over your body. His hips connecting with yours as your cheeks jiggle back and forth with each powerful thrust.

"You can take it darling I know you can take it."

Bradley wants to watch your face. He loves seeing the expression you make when you orgasm. To know that he's the reason behind that gives him pride.

The pressure is building faster and faster. It feel so close yet so far away. Within arms reach and Bradley isn't letting you grab it. He just grins wickedly down at your mewling and pathetic cries to him.

"I'm right there with you sweetheart." A hand slips under your body to attach to your clit.

A squeak slipping past your lips at the sudden and rough touch. It hurts but it a very good way that almost heightens the pleasure you're feeling. Turning your head your mouth finds the pillow and you bite down on it to muffle your sounds.

"You're doing good baby," he coos kissing your shoulder blade tenderly. "You're doing so good for me. You're okay you're almost there."

He pinches your clit between his fingers, and the small action sends you right over the edge. A shock running through your body almost like you were being brought back to life.

"Come for daddy."

He rotates his fingers slowly and gingerly on your clit to help ease you through your orgasm. His thrusting had slowed down, but he hasn't stopped. He simply keeps going and keeps his eyes glued to the side of your face. Spent and fucked.

"Oh fuck I'm right there." Nodding your head back at him as your able to see him from the corner of your eye.

Noticing you were trying to look at him his cock twitches violently as he fills you completely and utterly. His head resting against the top of your back. His arms shaking trying to hold himself up so he doesn't hurt your already sore body.

"That went way better than I expected." He chirps as he pulls out with a hiss your sensitive clenching as he did.

Feeling the mix of your cum and his dribbling out of you and onto the sheets. Your eyes fluttering with relief knowing it was over, but sad that he was done. Bradley could keep going until he passes out, but he didn't want to do that to your poor body.

Bradley's hand massaging up and down your spine all the way to your ass. Hoping his touch would help sooth you and comfort you. He knew you had to be tired, and wanted to help ease you into slumber.

"I'm serious though." He says making you lift your head to fully look at him.

Taking note of how red and sweaty his face is. His lips were swollen from kissing you, and biting down on his lips. His pupils were dilated like he just took something or he was high off of you.

"No more fucking porn. You can watch only my cock." That seemed a little extreme not letting you be able to watch porn. "So I guess we'll just have to make our own."

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #miles teller fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagines #miles teller smut #miles teller x reader #miles teller #miles teller fic #Bradley bradshaw fic

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melwilson · 2 years

Text

can i kiss you?

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x f!reader

lines are meant to be crossed, kissing you is one of them

bradley bradshaw may have been considered a charmer, or even a player to some, but he always had respect for women. it had been ingrained in his mind by his mom that women were to be respected. they weren’t objects or toys. they weren’t required to stay home and be a house wife and wait on their husbands hand and foot. carole preached that women had voices that ought to be heard- they were strong, beautiful, and they were human.

that’s why bradley did not wanna mess this up. the day he met you he thought you were the most beautiful, headstrong woman he had ever laid eyes on. you challenged him. you were confident, but not cocky. quiet, but not necessarily reserved or shy. involved without being overbearing. intuitive and smart without rubbing it into people’s face. you balanced out the aviator perfectly. and bradley was obsessed. like would kiss the ground you walked on obsessed.

you had only been on two dates because of his busy schedule, but he swore no one had ever made him feel the you did. you made his chest tight and his heart stutter, his blush crawl and his knees weak. you had him wrapped around your finger. and he loved it. he loved falling in love with you. but he hated how much you used it to your advantage even if it wasn’t on purpose.

like right now.

you’re on your third date. rooster planned the first two. you were planning the next. you chose your place since rooster had just gotten back from an intense mission and figured he needed rest. you’re sitting next to him on the couch, a glass of bourbon between your fingers (rooster almost fell to his knees when he saw your collection). your’re sitting criss-crossed applesauce, knees pressing lightly into his thigh. his thumb rubs gentle circles on your bare skin as he talks about the mission details that he’s allowed to share. he’s somewhere in between telling a story about coyote and getting to fly an F-14. you were listening, but you were also allowing yourself to admire the pilot.

he’s a little more tan- a noticeable stubble lining his jaw. you’re used to his mustache and clean shaven look, but the five o’clock shadow suits him. the bruise on his orbital (the one he got in a scuff with hangman) is almost gone, just an annoying pink. his eyes hold that childlike glint you admire so much, which causes you cock your head to the side, that soft smile adorning your face.

your gaze causes rooster to stutter in his story, his heart rate quickening. you raise an eyebrow. “you okay?”

he opens his mouth to respond. pauses. puts down his glass. and then asks, “can i kiss you?”

you smile softly. “i don’t think you have to ask, roos.”

he leans in, taking your glass and setting it down next to his own. “no?”

“no,” you utter back, giving in as he tugs you onto his lap. you throw one leg over both of his, fingers dancing along the base of his neck.

his gaze falls to your lips and back up again. “good.”

you open your mouth to respond, but rooster is quick to cut you off by capturing your lips with his. they’re soft and taste of your eight-year aged bourbon. he kisses you until he can’t anymore and when he pulls away, you’re both having to catch your breath.

“roos,” you say breathless, nose brushing against his.

he hums, kissing you again, not as long this time but it’s just as breathtaking. he can’t think clearly, mind clouded by your touch.

“please stop asking to kiss me and just do it.”

he dips his head down to press hot kisses to the smooth skin of your neck. your eyes flutter shut as his lips graze your ear. “you giving me orders?”

you cup his jaw to kiss him again. “you gotta problem with that lieutenant?”

he offers you that small smirk. “not at all, captain.”

#rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller x reader #miles teller #miles teller top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw drabble #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun maverick

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multifandomworldsposts · 5 months

Note

also for kinkmas.... daddykink and spanking or choking with Bradleyyyy 😩😩😩

Day 5 of Kinkmas: Being Rooster’s Bad Girl

KINKMAS ❄️🪩🛷

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

warning: daddykink, blowjobs, spanking, handcuffs, unprotected sex, riding

Y/N’s POV

I get my earrings on my ears and try to adjust my dress until I feel arms around my waist, I turn to see Bradley.

“Can you help me with my tie?” He asks holding his tie.

“Sure Bradley.” I say taking the tie out of his hand and tied his tie.

“Are you gonna behave yourself tonight princess?” He questions.

“Of course daddy.” I pout.

“Good girls get what they want, bad girls don’t.” He whispers in my ear with a deep voice that’ll make me weak.

“I’ll be a good girl baby.” I whisper in his ear.

He gives me a look, a look that says, I don’t believe you.

We go to a restaurant to see some of his friends from the navy, which the restaurant looks gorgeous. I want to tease the living shit out of Rooster, so I touch his leg with mine including touching his crotch. He does this to me ALL the time! So I think I’m gonna do some revenge basically.

I touch his leg with mine, I glare at him, he glares at me, he’s going to kill me in a few minutes. After a while, I slowly grab his crotch, he jumps, Phoenix looks at him in concern.

“Are you okay Rooster?” She questions.

“I’m fine.” He tries to cover his facial expression.

He looks at me with a face saying, you’re dead.

When we got home, I already know, I’m going to get punished.

“I knew you’d do that.” He’s angrily says.

I heavily breathe.

“You were a bad girl.” He rips my dress so my breasts can be exposed.

“You do that to me all the time!” I defend myself.

Bradley gives me the death stare and pushes me up against the nearest wall.

“You want to be punished?” He whispers in my ear in a deep voice.

I whimper.

“Brad-“ I get interrupted by Bradley.

“What’s my name sweetheart?” He whispers again.

“Daddy, I don’t want to get punished.” I say correctly.

“Well then, get down on your knees and suck me off princess.” He demands.

I get on my knees and unzips his pants along with his boxers to see his massive cock waiting for me. I begin to suck, his groans filling my ears, his hand gripping onto my hair, his cum getting into my mouth, and me whimpering, I want him to fuck me so hard so that I won’t be a bad girl ever again.

He lifts my head up to face him and makes me get up.

“You’re still a bad girl honey.” He says.

“What do you want me to do daddy, I rather have you fuck me until you cum inside me.” I pout.

He unzips my dress and sees I have nothing underneath.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, shall we?” He says picking me up and began to spank me.

I scream.

“Count for me baby.” He says still spanking me.

“6!”

“7!”

“8!”

“9!”

“10!”

He lays me down on our bed and undresses himself. I want to touch him, but fuck! I might lose it. He gets handcuffs and locks my hands on our bed backboard, I whimper again.

“I promise I’ll be good daddy.” I whimper.

“Then don’t behave like that again you hear me?” He says straddling my hips.

“I won’t.” I say.

He strokes himself to get cum on my cunt, his moans made me weak, I need him inside me.

“Do you think I don’t need my high heels on?” I asked.

“You’ll look sexy while I fuck the living shit out of you.” He says still pumping cum on my body.

God I wish I wasn’t in handcuffs.

“Daddy just fuck me!” I yell.

He smirks and starts to fuck me. I scream in pleasure, he keeps on going in and out, I wrap my legs around his waist and held him tight so he can be inside me. I scream again, he goes faster which the bed bangs on the wall.

He stops and releases me, I flip us over so I can be on top of him.

“What do you want to do to me daddy?” I hold his chest down.

“I wanna eat you out.” He says.

I make my way to make my cunt to be in his face and begins to eat me out, I moan, I can feel his tongue inside of me doing its job. I feel myself cumming, he licks all the cum and I gasp. I need to be a bad girl more often.

I sit on his waist and says, “You want me to ride you?” I say trying to make my breast look perky.

“You’ve been a good girl. Someone’s waiting for you.” He answers.

I sit on his cock and begin to ride him. He groans fill up the room, he’s so big, bigger than last time. I gasp again. I can feel him cum inside me. He grabs my hips and guides me to go faster, I make him sit up so he could help me. I wrap my legs around him and I continue to ride him once more. Bradley gives me hickeys, which made me moan in pleasure.

“Oh daddy.” I gasp.

“You want me to fuck you again?” He whispers in my ear.

“Just on the carpet next.” I say.

He makes me get off his cock and makes us go on our rug. He fucks me again and I scratch his back which made him go faster. I arch my back and I can feel him kissing my chest. He sucks one of my nipples and makes me sit up, we fuck again.

We lay down on the ground, heavy breathing. That was the best sex I ever had from him.

“I’ll never touch you like I did at the restaurant.” I say out of breath.

“Can we at least do this type of fuck session again?” He says looking at me.

“Bradley, we will but, I won’t touch you like that again.” I repeat myself.

“Just not in public.” He smirks.

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