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vivwritesfics · 25 days

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Her Seat

Bradley's girl had her Seat. It was his lap.

Warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum eating, unprotected sex, she is Bradley's pillow princess, marking

The movie was playing, but neither of them were paying much attention. Bradley's attention was focused on her. He held her, his large hands holding her ass as he stared at her.

Sat on his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the short hairs at the back of his neck.

The movie, something front the 90's, was long forgotten as he touched her. His hands were warm against her ass and he slipped his hands beneath her gym shorts.

A smile played on his lips, his moustache twitching up ever so slightly.

She looked so perfect sitting on him, her smaller frame on his larger one. They were chest to and Bradley leaned forward to kiss her, his large hands squeezing the flesh of her ass.

She knew why he was called Rooster, could feel why he was called Rooster pressed against her gym shorts. She moved against it and he gripped her tighter, stilling her.

Bradley was in charge and she loved it.

He pulled down her gym shorts and dropped them onto the floor, leaving her in her shirt, one of Bradley's, and her underwear. His hands returned to her ass, fingers slipping between the waistband of her panties.

"No bra?" He asked as she pressed her forehead to his.

She shook her head. "No bra," he confirmed, pulling her chest away from his own. He could see her nipples now, but it was a wonder he didn't feel them before.

"I love you," he said, capturing her lips with his own before she could answer. His hands travelled up under her shirt, calloused fingers rough against her back.

She arched her back towards him and let out a whine. Anything Bradley did was enough to get her whining for him. Just his skin against her own was enough.

Bradley was like nobody she had ever been with before. When it came to sex, she was his priority. He didn't care how long it took, he'd have her cumming on his face and fingers before he fucked her, his cock splitting her open.

He had barely touched her and she was already a mess for him, but she always was. "Can I?" He whispered against her lips, raising her shirt slightly. She nodded and lifted her arms, allowing him to pull her shirt off completely. Bradley dropped it onto the floor beside her shirts.

He kissed the top of her breasts while she ran her hands through his hair, whining and mewling. Even that was almost enough to push her over the edge, and she hadn't him him yet.

When she felt him again, pressed against her thigh, she wiggled her hips against him. This time, Bradley let her. He kissed down the flesh of her right tit until his lips met her nipple. Instantly, he brought it into his mouth. He let our a cry, throwing her head back. Bradley kept a hold of her, keeping her in his lap.

Her hips moved feverishly against him and Bradley pulled away from her breasts. His eyes locked onto hers as she pulled one hand from behind her back and travelled down to her cunt.

"You're soaked," he whispered, feeling her through her panties. She bucked her hips against his large hand and Bradley smirked.

Slowly, he peeled her panties away from her body and added them to the ever growing pile of clothes. When her cunt hit the cold hair she was desperately searching for him, begging him for some sort of friction.

"I've got you, pretty girl," he said as he brought his fingers back to her folds. He ran his fingers through them, feeling just how wet she was. When his fingers bumped against her clit, she let out an animalistic, inhuman noise.

Bradley eased his fingers into her. Every time they had sex, he had to ease himself into her. His fingers were so thick and so large, he did it one at a time, using her wetness as a lubricant. He pumped his finger in and out of her slowly, languidly, taking his sweet time with her.

Two fingers were already a stretch. But Bradley knew he needed one more to properly stretch her out. "So good f' me," he whispered as she rode his fingers, her forehead against his shoulder.

"Ready for one more, pretty girl?" He asked and she nodded. But Bradley wasn't going to do anything, not until she verbalised what she wanted.

When she choked out a 'yes', he eased a third finger into her. She cried out, stilling her hips and gripping his shoulders. He whispered sweetly in her ear, helping her to ease herself down. "So good," he said and kissed her head sweetly.

Every movement with three of his thick fingers inside of her had her shuddering. Bradley hit all the right spots inside of her, until she was shaking as she came, clenching around her fingers. "That's it," he praised, his cock straining against his trousers. "So fucking good."

He pulled out slowly and brought his cum covered fingers up to his lips. Bradley licked them clean. As soon as they were, he gripped her chin and pulled her closer, kissing her. At the taste of herself on his lips, in his moustache, she grinned. She cupped his face as she pulled away and began kissing down his neck.

Bradley loved to leave his mark on her, love to leave dark bruises down her neck so that everybody knew who she belonged to. But he loved it when she marked it, laying her claim on him.

Bradley freed himself from his trousers. He held himself as he helped her to sink down onto his cock. She let our a whine as she stretched around him, a sound he could have listened to on repeat for the rest of his life.

She tried to move, but Bradley held her still. "Hang on, Pretty girl," he said and quickly kissed her. "Just sit here with me."

So she sat there, incredibly full of him. She whined as she leaned forward, her head against his chest. Bradley kissed her, wrapped his arms around her as he held her tight.

His attention went back to the movie they had forgotten about. She cried out in desperation, desperate for his attention.

He didn't give it to her, not right away. Every time he shifted slightly she cried out, but he kept her on the tantalising edge of pleasure.

Bradley did everything but fuck her. He held her so sweetly, kissed her softly and played with the ends of her hair. But then his hands slid down to her ass and she couldn't hide her excitement.

"You ready, Pretty girl?"

Desperately, she nodded her head. Bradley kept a tight hold of her as he bucked his hips towards her, fucking up into her. He snapped his hips towards her in quick thrusts as she cried out, his name leaving her lips again and again.

His breathing deepened and Bradley gripped her tighter, sure to leave bruising handprints. Handprints she would wear with pride. His pretty girl didn't have to do anything, not while he was taking care of her.

His name tumbling from her lips turned into incoherent babbling as she got closer and closer. She hissed out a string of curses, tears springing to her eyes as Bradley pushed her over for the second time.

His thrusts had grown slow. They weren't exactly sloppy, but they were slower, mindful of her overstimulated cried.

He pulled out, shooting his cum onto her stomach. As Bradley placed her on the sofa beside him, she scooped some of the cum from her stomach onto her finger. She placed it in her mouth and sucked it off, all while staring at him.

Fuck, he wanted to run a bath for her, but now he was ready to go again.

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

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sunflowersteves · 1 year

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another day, another dollar || b.b.

pairing || bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

summary || Is Rooster jealous that some random aviator won't stop looking at you? Definitely not.

author’s note || i'm so glad you guys enjoyed my last rooster fic!! i have so many ideas for rooster and i hope you guys enjoy this one! <3

warnings || jealousy, misogyny (not from rooster), fem!reader, some mention of violence, smut, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, a little sub!bradley, [18+ only]

“Getting pretty busy, huh?”

You turned your head around to the unfamiliar voice. You almost raised an eyebrow—he looked smug. “Yep.” You replied, short and sweet.

You gave him a strained smile in hopes to keep up some customer service facade. You whirled back around to continue to pull the tap and fill up more beers.

He decided to talk to you again. “Think you can handle all this by yourself?”

At the Hard Deck on a buzzing Friday night, you were the only one tending to the bar. Ever since dusk peaked at seven-thirty in the evening, you had been busy refilling beers and taking orders—then occasionally ringing the bell when someone couldn’t pay their tab.

Penny asked you for a favor when Amelia came home from school with a really bad case of the flu. You knew she felt bad enough leaving you alone on the busiest night of the weekend, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You had wished Amelia a speedy recovery.

You were doing pretty well from the rush of Navy officers, lieutenants, captains, and everywhere in between asking for ales and lagers.

It had actually been somewhat fun chatting up conversations with people. Out of nowhere, though, this lanky twenty-something man stationed himself right in the front of the bar.

He had been staring at you for more than five minutes, and when you paid him no mind—since you were quite frankly busy with customers—he decided to strike up a mundane conversation. It was almost nauseating.

When you had turned your head the first time, he had his elbow resting on the bar and twirled a pint of beer in his hand. He had a fresh face and flirty twinkling eyes that almost made you gag a little. You knew exactly what he was doing, and you weren’t interested.

You could tell he was a Naval Aviator with the whole khaki color suit and hat on his head. You could also tell that by the looks of it that he’s new.

You didn’t spin back around, though, when he asked you that question. You didn’t want to give him any attention—hopefully, he will get the goddamn hint.

“Think you can handle all this by yourself?” Gross.

“I’ve been doing this for a while. I think I can handle it just fine.” You then turn to Coyote with the four beers he asked for—a genuine smile on your face. He thanked you kindly before sauntering back off to your group of friends by the pool table.

“Really? I’ve never seen you in here before.” He locked eyes with yours before trailing down your figure and admiring the curves of your hips in tight jeans—a shudder of disgust ran through your body. “I would’ve remembered someone like you.”

Yeah, he was definitely new because if he saw the six-foot-four Top Gun aviator—the top one percent of fighter pilots in the world—that was glaring daggers into him, he would have shit his pants on the spot. You were sure he would never set foot in the Hard Deck again.

You were Bradley’s, and Bradley was yours. Everyone in the vicinity of the bar knew that. You were always perched on his lap while he spread his skilled fingers across the piano. His arms were always wrapped around your waist as you destroyed Hangman in darts. You two practically couldn’t get your hands off of each other every second of the day.

No one in their right mind would disturb the pure, raw love between the two of you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you were forced under the confinements of the bar area, giving this newbie the perfect opportunity to try and stake his claim.

“Maybe you’re the forgetful one, kid. I’m here every weekend.” You fought the urge to smile in victory when he gave an annoyed expression as the word kid left your mouth.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

“You gonna do something, Rooster?”

His eyes never left your cute irritated face. He watched you give the guy a one-worded answer with a mundane expression. As much as he wanted to give you the kiss of a lifetime, he stood back. “No.”

With Bradley’s answer, Jake was even more amused. “No? I’m surprised. I’d figure by now you’d be trailing over to her like some lost little puppy.”

Bradley bit his cheek to keep from snapping back. He knew that Jake was just giving him shit. He knew that he was just trying to get him all riled up.

It’s what Jake does. But he couldn’t let anything get to him, or he would trail over to you like some lost puppy. Hangman was undoubtedly and stupidly right.

Jake’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the brooding silence. He expected some little quip and then a smack upside the head from Phoenix right next to him.

Damn, this must be really grinding Bradley’s gears. Jake almost felt guilty for his friend sulking in the corner of the Hard Deck.

“Don’t let Bagman get to you, Rooster. He’s just jealous that your girlfriend rejected him first.”

Phoenix grinned with a teasing smile, and Jake just grumbled to himself. At that, Bradley snorted and shook his head. He was still silent, but his demeanor had at least changed. All of the pilots smiled at Rooster’s shoulders relaxing just a smidge.

Bradley hated feeling jealous—the angry green monster that sprouted in his chest and sat home in his head was relentless in its hold on him.

His heart always throbbed in his chest, and anger bubbled through his veins when some guy or girl gave you a bashing smile and feather-light touches to your shoulder.

He always stayed silent—brooding—as he watched you from afar. He never wanted you to feel like he didn’t trust you because he did. Oh, he did. He trusts you more than anyone else in the room, and he flies life or death with some of them. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to.

He figured it is most likely some unresolved tension from the tragedies that have struck during his thirty-five years of life, and anyone that wanted to take you away from him burned a hole in his chest.

So, to combat these ingrained feelings, he sat idly by as that guy’s hips were attached to the bar and watched you dodge every single flirtatious glance and awkward pick-up line. He knew you could handle yourself, and there was a whole gaggle of naval aviators that would stop at nothing to make sure you were doing okay.

“Need another beer?” A peace offering. Jake was already standing up from the bar stool and about to make his way over to you.

He nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Bagman.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

You looked bored. You looked so absolutely uninterested in this guy still speaking to you, and now, he was over-explaining how F-18 engines work and fly. You were a mechanical engineer. You knew how plane engines work.

You tried to tell him you did, but he was quick to interrupt to continue telling you about how F-18s have more than one-hundred thousand horsepower.

If you didn’t respect Penny’s establishment and reputation, he would’ve been thrown out of the bar by now. Typical men with their typical egos. Though now that you think about it, you’re sure Penny would have encouraged it.

Your eyes locked with Jake’s, and your eyes lit up at the familiar face. Finally, someone you actually enjoy talking to. Not that you would ever tell Jake that.

“Need savin’ over here, hot shot?” Jake had interrupted the aviator and ignored the very irritated look that was sent his way. It was almost like the guy was insinuating that he had caught you—that you were going to be his tonight. The feeling of possession he exuded made you want to gag again.

Jake could tell you wanted this shift to be over as soon as possible. Your eyes glanced at the random man staring at you before turning your attention back onto Hangman. “Nothing I can’t handle. How many beers?”

“Two, please.” Jake smiled—cocky little shit. “I think you should go talk to your boyfriend over there. He’s been stewin’ for quite a while.” He paused, eyes sliding over to the stranger. “I could even help ya with the bar.”

You turn around to fill up the empty glasses that he handed to you. “Don’t I know it, Bagman.” It was like the aviator that had been hitting on you all night had disappeared—though, you wish. Just you making drinks while your friends entertained you. It was nice for a moment, actually. “I’m due for a break soon enough.”

Jake spoke too soon, though, because Bradley was already making his way over to the bar. He couldn’t help himself when he saw the guy stare straight at your ass and bite his lip. The action made his blood seethe with vexation, so his feet started walking before his brain caught up.

“Boyfriend?” The guy looks shocked. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. “What the fuck? I’ve been trying all night, and you didn’t say a fucking thing?”

You pursed your lips. Irritated. “I did.”

“Huh?”

Rooster stood tall near the bar, watching the scene before him. He studied the menacing glare you struck at the guy and a hand resting on your hip.

“I told you multiple times when you were talking about damn plane engines that I have a boyfriend—who’s a naval aviator by the way. I’ve made it crystal clear.”

He didn’t miss a beat. The stranger’s eyebrows were furrowed in rage. He stood up from the bar in an irate stance. “You’re a fucking bitch. Do you go around eye-fucking all the guy's then?” His eyes move over to Jake’s.

“You allow your slut to do this, man?”

You, Jake, and Bradley all froze. The whole bar dulls out into silence from his loud gestures, and all eyes are on you four now.

The audacity of this kid to insult and degrade you when all you were doing was listening to this guy talk and talk. You gave clear signs of being uninterested. Clear. Not to mention he also had the sheer audacity to make a scene in Jake and Bradley’s presence.

“The fuck did you just say?” You were almost in his face as you leaned over the bar—a hard glare set on him with your fueled anger. The grip you had on the bar counter was starting to ache, but you didn’t care.

“Tame your fucking girl, would you?” Jake’s hands clenched by his side at the comment.

Bradley’s chest heaved up and down, and he could feel the burning emotion consume his entire body and soul. His hands were almost trembling by his side as his thoughts of tearing this asshole to shreds simmered inside his head.

The guy scoffed. He tried to turn around to leave but was met with Bradley’s hard chest. Clearly, he had no idea what was coming.

Bradley was sweet—a kind, gentle soul. He has picked you up from your lowest and drew you back up. He has told you things about himself that not even he understands. Bradley Bradshaw was a good man—one of the best, you would even argue.

However, he had a temper. Call it the jet fuel that was practically injected into his veins, but when that temper was pushed to the brim because someone fucked with you? Yeah, they should hope to be six feet under before Bradley could get to them.

Bradley towered over him, almost making the guy tower down. He was seeing red—fully unsaturated rage at the disrespect toward you. The guy tried to regain some confidence, oddly enough. “Move out of my way.”

Bradley didn’t move—he didn’t even blink. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His eyes bore into the stranger to assess him. His hand twitched at his side as if it was gearing up to make a move.

“Apologize. Now.” His voice was deep—it was gruff and hollow that immediately went straight to your chest. He didn’t look like the Bradley you knew, the Bradley that would carry you for three miles from a sprained ankle.

This Bradley looked menacing. This Bradley looked deadly. And you weren’t going to lie, it was hot as fuck.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bradley’s eyes flashed with something you were unfamiliar with. He has been jealous before, yes, but it has mostly been the reassuring kind. This was pure seething rage. His eyes were almost red from the amount of anger that pulsated through his body.

“Apologize.” Bradley breathes out, but his eyes are digging into the man in front of him. “Or I will rip your fucking kneecaps off.”

Jake stood tall—back stretched out as he watched the interaction. He would spot for Bradley any day, especially to assholes like this random guy. He wanted to be ready for anything that could come Bradley’s way.

The guy opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut as Bradley took a step closer if it was even possible. He almost dared him too—almost wanted him to so Bradley could get in some punches that this guy deserved.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The guy tried to take a step back but was met with the bar counter. “I didn’t mean—”

“Not me.” Rooster pointed directly at you. “Her.”

He spins around faster toward you than you had seen a person spin in your life. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looks up to your boyfriend for approval, but Bradley’s eyes locked with yours. You nodded as a signal to your boyfriend that you were okay—things were okay. All you wanted was for this guy to leave and Bradley to be by your side again. It’s all you could think about.

Bradley’s eyes retreated back to the stranger, and you could have sworn that the guy almost flinched. “If I ever see you in here again, I will not hesitate. Do you understand?”

The aviator nods vigorously and tries to ignore the deadly glare from Bradley. His hands picked at his sides in nervousness. “Do you understand?” Bradley repeats.

The aviator’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes. I understand.”

Bradley’s posture somewhat succeeds back into a relaxed form, his eyes already returning back to you in comfort and warmth. Every tipsy person located in the bar had shouted in celebration for kicking out the guy that ruined all the fun. Coyote and Fanboy unkindly escorted him out of the bar and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “Don’t fucking come here again.”

In the bar, everything and everyone had gone back to normal. People started laughing and smiling once more—shoveling more drinks into their mouths. Some even started racking the balls on the pool table and throwing darts.

For you, though, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley.

He was on you in less than a second, taking two full strides around the bar in desperation. His hands gripped your hips harshly and his lips collided against your own. Your back bumps into the bar, which causes the bottles of booze to rattle against the glass.

His tongue is shoved into your mouth, and he groans deeply at the taste of beer. His nose harshly bumps against your cheek—messy and harsh with every swallow and molding of your mouth.

You almost whined into him. “Bradley.” Your breath fanned up against his cheeks, and his knees felt so fucking weak for you.

His body starts to sloppily drag you away from the bar and into the back corner of the Hard Deck. His lips never once left yours in a fury to feel you—to be inside of you at any and all cost. His hands make their way down the back of your thighs, and you instinctively jump. Your legs wrap around his torso as he continues to walk backward.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Go fuck like bunnies. I’ll man the bar, I guess.” But there was a hint of a small smile on his face. Finally, you two could cut the shit and fawn over each other once again.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Bradley pulls you into the supply closet near the break room at the back of the bar. His back hits one of the shelves, and you could hear the sound of cleaning bottles falling onto the floor.

Neither of you could stop your fluttering hands that followed each other’s curves. Bradley’s lips trailed down your jaw and neck, which left you breathless and aching for more. Your body feels hot—and elated—from his calloused fingers digging into the flesh on your stomach.

“Bradley, please.” He thinks he knows what you are begging for. He wants to taste you on his tongue. He wants you creaming into his mouth until you’re so dumb that you don’t even remember your own name.

To his chagrin, though, you stop the trailing hand that is trying to make its way between your thighs. “I wanna taste you, Bradley. I wanna swallow your cum.”

His eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell—” Bradley breathes out, fast and light. He watches you sink down onto your knees and clumsily drag his shorts to pool around his ankles.

You weren’t very graceful from your pure desperation to have his cock in your mouth. Bradley didn’t mind, though.

His cock jumped from the sight and thought of you in such a state of yearning. “Pretty baby.” He whispered, but it sounded more like a whine.

Your lips trailed kisses around his thighs. “Do you know how hot it was to see you almost lose your shit on that guy?” Your words slurred together from the intoxication of his broad muscles and lips that were sucked in between his teeth.

You pull down his boxers and almost drool from his ruddy tip dripping in pre-cum. You lightly graze your fingers across his shaft and your mouth waters from his shaft twitching. Your eyes flickered up to see his reaction, his hooded eyes watching you pump his cock.

“You had been watchin’ me all night, Roo. I could feel it.”

He licked his lips. “He-He—” He moans your name. “F-Fuck. He-He can’t take you. I–” God, you’re so hot from your lust-filled eyes racking over his hopelessly hard cock. He withers in your grasp, and he couldn't help but say your name over again.

“Oh, Roo, no. He can’t take me, hmm?” You hum out the last part of the sentence so your mouth can gravitate to the bulging vein on the side of his cock. “I’m fucking yours, Roo. I’m yours.”

You swirl your tongue and suck your lips around his tip. His hands latch themselves into your hair, and he tugs and tugs. How is he already so close to the edge?

You’re barely touching him, but he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and the knot in his stomach twists and pulls.

“F-Fuck, pretty baby, yeah. You’re mine. You’re mine.” He repeats the saying as his hips involuntarily hump your mouth. You gag around him and his cock shoves further deep into your throat.

You want to guide him to a sweet release for being such a good partner to you. He is yours. He is your Bradley.

“Oh, fuck–fuck baby, please. My fuckin’ girl—yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He lowly groans out—deep, guttural, and sultry—while his cum paints the inside of your mouth. Thick ropes shoot into your mouth, and the salty taste made you salivate even more. Your eyes watch his hung-open jaw and his eyes trailing down to watch you suck around his cock.

You swallow all that he has to offer, and you moan out his name while still stuffed with his cock. His eyes widened slightly at the action, and his heart swirled in his chest. How did he get so lucky with you?

You go to stand up and pull his pants back up, but he catches your hands.

“Oh, pretty baby, you aren’t leaving me so soon, are you?” His palm rests below the back of your neck and pulls you into him. His breath fans up against your cheeks, and he presses sweet kisses on your jaw, working his way up to your temple.

“Roo, if you don’t fuck me right this minute—”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, pretty baby, we’re jus’ getting started.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw smut #smut #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster smut #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #top gun maverick smut

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theharddeck · 11 months

Text

i was supposed to sweat you out (rooster x f!reader)

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: reader is totally not jealous that her FWB is being hit on at the hard deck.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: spitting, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please-- explicit PiV sex, a bit of dumbification, m!receiving oral sex

A/N: help i blacked out and wrote almost 4k of rooster smut who even am i listen, i also know it's not original, but i wanted to write frantic territorial sex and this is where it got us. also...don't think too hard about the parallels between this and can't unfeel that okay i'm too repressed to process tysm also yes title is from glitch by TAS

You weren’t jealous.

Jealous was for people with feelings, and if you had feelings about fucking your team lead, then you were stupid, in addition to giving Uncle Sam everything he needed to court martial you.

So, no, you weren’t jealous.

But the tightness in your stomach as a girl sat next to Rooster on the piano was awfully uncomfortable.

She wasn’t even out of line, that was the worst part. She looked nice, she looked like a decent human, and she was pretty, if you were into the girl next door kinda look.

Which Rooster historically was.

She was sitting at a perfectly respectful distance, her sundress was a perfectly respectful length, her face was open and curious and pure and it made you want to stomp over to the piano in the middle of the Hard Deck, and rub yourself all over Bradley’s hawaiian shirt until he remembered that as pretty as she was, he liked himself around you better.

You made yourself look away, tipping your wrist so the soda water and ice remaining in your glass rattled around.

He wasn’t yours.

You knew he wasn’t, just like you knew jealousy was irrational, but it was hard because sometimes…sometimes he acted like it though.

Like when you nearly passed out from cramps and he’d brought over a spare set of sheets while he washed yours, and then wedged himself around you in your tiny bed, so you could know you weren’t alone in the pain. Or when he left a lemon lavender cupcake in your locker, even though no one was supposed to know it was your birthday, because you hated the way people made a big fuss out of nothing. Or the way he looked up at you, awestruck and beautiful, every time you came on his fingers, sobbing his name.

You set your glass down on the bar, louder than you intended, but suddenly everything seemed loud. You didn’t have to stay here, in fact, you needed to get out. Out of the Hard Deck, away from the bright lights and happy people being happy, and no one moping over their fuckbuddies who definitely didn’t have feelings for them–

When the back door opened, you breathed in deep, cool air rushing off the sea and over you and bringing a momentary reprieve. The door swung shut behind, and as it closed, the din of the bar muted, and you let that breath out slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You just needed a minute, a moment to calm the hell down, and forget about the distracting man at the piano whom you had no business being distracted by.

You heard the door creak open behind you and you tipped your head back to glare at the universe at large, because without turning around, you knew exactly who had come outside after you.

“Hey,” Bradley’s voice was just gentle enough to make your heart clench, because it wasn’t his fault that he was so impossibly kind, it had you falling in love with him, “you okay? You ran out of there pretty quick.”

“I’m fine,” you said, sounding just as prickly as you felt, pushing down any sense of flattery that he’d been aware of your presence, and your leaving.

“You sound fine,” Bradley said cheerily, coming to stand beside you. You wanted to laugh with him because you both knew you were being dramatic, but you also wanted to shove him like you were 5 on a playground, too full of big feelings to know how to handle them.

“I said I’m fine, Bradley,” you bit out. “Go back inside, okay, I’m fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when you looked over at him, you knew it was a mistake. He was watching you carefully, his brown eyes focused and concerned, a divet in the middle of his forehead where his brows were squished together, making him simultaneously the cutest and hottest, and also the most annoying, for being so handsome while he was clearly worried.

“Honey, we gotta talk about it–” he started, but the endearment broke something inside of you, the way he said it like he meant it, like this was real.

“I’m not your honey, Bradley,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “We’re friends, right, that was the whole deal, so let’s not pretend like–”

Something flashed in Bradley’s eyes and a moment later his large hands cupped your face as he crashed into you, kissing your gasped breath out of you.

It wasn’t your fault your knees nearly buckled.

It wasn’t your fault that the hands you meant to push him away with instead curled into the material of that stupid technicolor shirt, pulling him closer to you.

It wasn’t your fault that he tasted like heaven, like rum and coke and intoxicating, and months of habit had you chasing his taste with your tongue.

You didn’t realize you were walking backwards until your back hit the outside wall of the Hard Deck, and still Bradley covered you. His neck was bent at a horrible angle to meet your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, melding his body into yours, pressing into you with a familiar urgency.

His tongue traced over your lips and you opened for him, a whimper escaping you when Bradley hummed with appreciation. His hands slipped from your face to behind your head, his knuckles protecting your head from the scrape of the brick wall, and he rocked into you before pulling back.

You felt his breath against your lips and you opened your eyes slowly, needing a moment before you could focus on him.

Christ, he was just so pretty.

Hair unruly from your fingers, cheeks flushed from kissing you, chest rising unsteadily and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, like a tease.

“Now,” he said, his voice gruffer than it’d been a minute ago, “are you done riding my dick for something I don’t even know I did wrong?”

It was an expression.

You knew that, of course it was an expression, but Bradley was pressing you into a wall with his demigod body, and he’d said it in that voice, the one you knew how it felt against your skin, so all you could manage was, “Can I?”

For a moment, Bradley looked confused, bless him.

Then he huffed out a disbelieving breath, like you were too good to be true, lifting a hand from behind your head to rake it through his hair, before looking back at you.

“You mean that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice somehow even lower. “Out here in the open, you’d let me fuck you?”

You shivered at his words, nodding stupidly, and were rewarded by another kiss. This one was just as unexpected as the first, but Bradley’s lips gentle against yours as he coaxed an answering softness out of you.

It was too sweet.

Too tempting, too delicious, to let yourself have tenderness that you knew wasn’t real, and you needed to get a hold of yourself, fast.

Bradley was still being so damn gentle, so it was easy to push his hands away from you, sink to your knees on the sand-covered asphalt outside of the bar. Bradley fell forward, catching himself on the arm braced on the wall, his forehead resting in the crook of his elbow.

“Honey, you don’t have to–” he started, but his hips bucked forward when your fingers started undoing his belt.

“I want to,” you told him, meaning it too much to care how breathless your voice sounded.

Your hand slipped into his pants, palming his length over his briefs and you both groaned softly. He wasn’t fully hard, not yet, but that was better anyways, let you work him up. He was warm, heavy even at half mast, and it took everything in you not to purr when you pulled him out. You looked up at him, tilting your head.

“Help me out?” you asked coyly, sticking your tongue out, and Bradley’s hips jutted forward again when he realized what you were asking.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice a heady mix of arousal and wonder. The hand that wasn’t keeping him from hitting the wall traced down your cheek, ending at your jaw and tipping your chin up.

You were already salivating and when Bradley spit, you moaned, your thighs clenched together as you drooled your combined saliva onto his cock. Bradley grunted, then whispered something to himself as you smoothed your hand over him, the glide made easier by your spit. Already, you could feel him stiffening, and you readjusted to take him in your mouth.

It was never a gentle fit.

Bradley was the kind of thick that he always stretched out your jaw, but, God, did you relish it. As your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, Bradley moaned, the most beautiful sound. You loved how vocal he was, loved how he sounded, how he felt. You tightened your lips, tongue swirling over the tip of him, teasing until you tasted a hint of salt in your mouth, and then it was your turn to moan.

You tipped your head back, encouraging him to slide him deeper into your mouth, your fist twisting around the portion of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth.

“Shit, honey, that mouth…” Bradley gritted, his voice muffled in his arm. The hand that had tipped up your chin went around to your cheek, and his hips shifted again when he could feel you hollowing your cheeks out.

The motion pushed him deeper towards your throat and you gagged, but kept him in your mouth, soothed by the shaky cadence of Bradley’s breath over you.

“So damn good for me, aren’t you, honey?” he breathed. “So warm and tight; feels so good…”

Your thighs clenched again, and you felt yourself growing wet as his praise washed over you. You held your breath, determined to take more of him, and Bradley grunted as you pulled on his cock with your hand, feeding him into your mouth.

“Need more, honey?” he asked, somehow still cocky, though you could hear the tremor of desire in his voice. “God, you love being stretched on my dick, don’t you?”

You moaned instead of nodding, wishing it wasn’t true but also wishing he’d push deeper. Your hands flexed on his thighs, still covered in his jeans, but so thick and warm, even through the denim. Fuck, the size of him was overwhelming–his heavy cock in your mouth, those muscled thighs under your fingers…you held your breath and you let go of the base of him.

Bradley let out a choked gasp as you took him deeper, your nose brushing his pubic hair as he slid down your throat. You were gonna lose your voice and be so damn sore, but it was worth it for the groan that ripped out of Bradley.

“Fuck fuck fuck–” he gritted, all cockiness gone as he let go of your cheek, bracing himself against the wall. You knew it was taking everything to not rut into you, and you half appreciated it because you weren’t sure you could take it, but you almost wanted him without restraint, just using you, lost in you.

You hummed around him, and Bradley made a sound you’d never heard before, like a whine and gasp, and then he was pushing himself off the wall, pulling out of you, and wrapping his hands under your arms, pulling you to your feet.

“Fuck, honey, you wreck me,” he rasped, kissing you almost angrily. You whimpered as you opened for him, and you felt his tongue sweeping through you, searching for his taste in your mouth.

You felt so empty, too much air and too little of his cock, and you reached for him between you. You felt him jolt when your hand closed around him, stroking over him, and then Bradley was reaching between both of you, shoving his hand into your underwear.

“How wet am I going to find you, honey? Bet you’re just drenched aren’t you, just that hungry for my cock–fuck.”

Bradley broke off when his fingers swept into your panties, and you gasped at the glorious contact.

His fingers were so good, thick and long and calloused just right, and he was absolutely correct: you were all but dripping for him. Bradley pulled his fingers through your folds, pulling your arousal up to your clit and petting gentle circles around it. Your head fell back against the wall at his ministrations, perfect to the point of painful, almost forgetting you held his cock in your hand.

You tightened your grip around him, and Bradley grunted before he matched your pace with his fingers. You felt your knees shaking, and Bradley wound another hand around your ass, before lifting to brace you against the wall. With your feet off the ground, your balance was entirely dependent upon him, and it brought new pressure to the pattern his fingers were tracing over you.

His touch was maddening.

Light and knowing, direct and perfect, enough to drive you wild with pleasure but not to get you there, and he knew it.

“Bradley,” you whispered against his mouth, begged, and the bastard chuckled, but he pulled his hand out of your panties, just long enough to push them to the side, before pulling his lips away from you.

“Shit, honey, I don’t have a–”

“In me, Rooster,” you snapped, surprised and yet absolutely not surprised by the fact that your eyes felt full. You were desperate for him, it was embarrassing, but you needed him so damn bad, for reasons you didn’t dare say, and if he waited for something else, you didn’t think you could bear it. “Please, fucking please, I need you–”

“Shh honey, you’re okay,” Bradley soothed, one of his hands brushing your hair away from your face, a gentle thumb wiping at your eyes. His gentleness made you more desperate, your hips canting towards him. “Are you sure?”

“So sure, please,” you whimpered, your face feeling hot, your thighs shaking. God you were coming undone, like you were just a giant nerve ending that was just need, desperate, hunger, desire.

“Course, honey,” Bradley soothed, his lips brushing against your cheeks, kissing your tears away, his tongue caressing your skin. “I’ve got you, baby, you’re okay.”

You didn’t think you were, but then his thick cock was at your entrance and you could’ve sobbed in relief. He was hot, you could feel him leaking and you needed him to be so deep inside you. You tried to work your hips down on him, but Bradley’s grip on you was stern, and you couldn’t coax him any faster.

As it was, it still felt like too much.

The stretch of him, the closeness, the way he knew just how to soothe you and fuck you and none of it was real and even when he slowly worked you down onto his cock, you were still shaking.

“Please, please,” you whined, trying to move, and crying out in frustration when Bradley didn’t succumb. “Shit, Bradley, please, fuck me like you mean it.”

He growled, fucking growled, the sexiest sound out of a litany of choices, and Bradley’s hips jerked back before he drove into you. Your head hit the brick wall, he was so perfect and he hit you just right, so good, and almost perfect enough to drown out the thoughts in your head.

“Like I mean it, huh,” Bradley grunted, pulling out, the drag feeling like suction with how wet you were, how tightly you were clenching around him. “Like I mean it when I say you’re killing me, is that what you mean? Like I’m going insane every second this pretty pussy isn’t tight around me, like I can’t think straight if I don’t have the taste of you on my tongue, or know the taste of me isn’t on yours?”

He punctuated each question with a thrust, fucking the answers out of your head, and all you could think was yes and more and please.

“Oh you like that, don’t you, baby?” Bradley said, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he lifted you higher up the wall. Your back scraped against the bricks but you didn’t care, you couldn’t focus on anything other than the perfect drag of his cock inside you, so close to you. “I think you like that, I think you like knowing how much you own me, how in my head you are, how even when it’s me filling you. You’re fucking everywhere, all around me, all the time.”

His thrusts pushed you higher, bits of sand and brick grating at your skin and it grounded you, centered you so you didn’t come undone at the words coming out of him.

You were still thinking too much.

He was so deep, so good, but you still…you reached for him blindly, one of your hands finding one of his, bringing it to your throat.

“Fuck, honey,” Bradley groaned, his fingers tightening slightly and you traced your hand down the back of his hands, moaning when you felt the veins on the back of his hand. He didn’t squeeze tight, just enough to remind you he was there, and that he could, and just the thought had a coil tightening in your core, tingles spreading through your toes and fingers.

“Bradley,” you whimpered, tears squeezing out of your eyes. “Baby, that feels so good, feels like yours, please–”

Bradley moaned into your skin, his lips latching onto your pulse point and sucking, and you keened, your back arching off the wall. The stretch of his cock was pulling your panties across your clit, and the driving press of him inside of you was so good, you could barely hear what he was whispering.

“Is that what you want, honey?” he whispered into your skin. “Want to be mine? That’s what it feels like, honey, it feels like my pussy is so wet for me, dripping for this cock. It feels like my clit is so swollen, so desperate for attention; it feels like my girl’s gonna come on my hard fucking cock…”

Yes, yes that was what you wanted.

You were already his, he didn’t know it, but hearing him say it had your mind going hazy, and your thighs trembling.

“That’s fucking right, baby,” Bradley groaned, “I can feel you clenching down on me, can feel my pussy getting even tighter for me. This doesn’t feel like friends, baby, it feels like my girl’s about to come on my cock.

You were lost, swimming in a sea of heat and sensation and Bradley’s words and you were pretty sure you were wailing, praying no one in the Hard Deck could hear you, but even if they could, you weren’t stopping. His cock was so deep in you, hitting you just right, and you knew what you needed to cum.

“In me, Bradley,” you managed, your voice a weak whine. “Need to feel you come, please, fill me up with it.”

“Oh, fuck, honey,” Bradley choked, his hand tightening on your throat and his hips working faster. His pace was bruising, overwhelming, perfect and hard and you felt everything in you winding tighter.

“Of course you want my cum, fucking of course, if it’s my pussy, then that’s where it belongs isn’t it? That’s how you should be, stuffed so fucking full of me, dripping out of you, marked like mine, fucking mine–”

He was groaning, gasping, his hips speeding up and driving into you, and all you could do was take it, like it was what you were made for. You were boneless, euphoric, and when you felt Bradley’s hips stutter and his head drop to between your breasts, your orgasm broke over you. Bradley sagged into you, hips working weakly as he thrust his cum into you, and you felt it everywhere, marking you, like he said. You couldn’t breathe without him, only knew you were still vertical because he was holding you, and you felt so warm, so held, so full.

His.

You didn’t realize your eyes had closed until you were aware of Bradley asking you to open them. Your feet were on the ground, even though your legs were like a newborn deer, and your back was braced against the wall. Bradley was bent in front of you, brushing away your tears with the back of his hand.

“Talk to me, honey,” he said softly, and you heard his voice like an echo, “need to know you’re okay.”

You nodded slowly, which mustn’t have been convincing, because Bradley was still fussing over you, like he hadn’t fucked you halfway into a new religion.

You knew when he saw your back because of the sound of dismay that burst out of him, and then he was pulling off that damn Hawaiin shirt, brushing gravel off your back while your head hung low between your shoulders, still trying to remember how to breathe.

Satisfied that he’d at least brushed the grit out of your skin, Bradley draped his shirt over your shoulders, protecting them, before guiding you to lean back. He licked his lips as his gaze tracked over your face, and you watched him convince himself to say something.

“Did you mean it?” he asked quietly, but this time you heard him more clearly. “Would…would you want that? To be mine?”

It was your turn to stare.

How could he doubt it? How was there any question? Not only after what you’d just begged him for, but before then, always, he had to know how good he was, and how all anyone wanted was to be in the light of his sunshine.

“Obviously,” you said, your voice coming out as an alarming croak. “But we can’t, we–”

Bradley hugged you.

It wasn’t what you expected.

After everything you’d just done, instigated by stop-talking kisses, there was something astonishingly intimate about Bradley wrapping you in his arms, enfolding you in his embrace, and you felt him relax when your arms hesitatingly wrapped around him too. He was warm, smelled like fresh sweat and you buried your face in the soft cotton of his undershirt. He held you tightly, and you thought he might’ve pressed a kiss to the top of your head, but then his hand was smoothing over your back, gentle, comforting.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, softly. “Together, okay?”

You nodded, knowing he could feel it, and he held you impossibly closer. It didn’t solve it. There were still fraternization rules, still some kind of unofficial vetting process you knew Mav and Ice would put you through, not to mention Penny…but as Bradley held you, you let it be enough.

And maybe it was enough, because, as your body hummed with the reminder of it, you were his.

tagging: @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @mxgyver @withahappyrefrain @teacupsandtopgun @lewmagoo @nancyxsorbet @sebsxphia @laracrofted @roleycoleyreccenter @sushiwriterhere @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @callsignvalley @wildbornsiren @hangmanshoney idk most people follow me for hangman and coyote so hope i did okay by roo

#bradley rooster bradshaw smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #misskielwrites

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notroosterbradshaw · 4 months

Text

Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)

about: Bradley's home just before the turn of midnight. After 15+ Christmases together, it's just sometimes lovely to reminisce about life before the babies wake and the madness ensues.

word count: 6k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

a/n: I haven't had a lot of time to put this together the way I would have liked, I will quietly edit after xmas to put some more time into this... hopefully. otherwise, please enjoy and have yourself a merry little something if you feel that way inclined x

masterlist.

It was so late.

Bradley was so late.

A late arrival to base, mandatory debrief, it was a shitshow of delay after delay from his three-month deployment but coming home to see the house dark, he knew you’d given up and headed to bed. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, quietly dropping his duffel bag at the front door but ears pricked up to hear Christmas music – Eagles, Please Come Home for Christmas – and he could swear, you singing gently with Don Henley. The sweetest sound even if you were the first to admit your voice was reminiscent of nails on a blackboard.

Untrue. It was like pure honey from the hive and he couldn’t get enough.

Chewing his lip in anticipation as he quietly unlaced his boots, he wandered into the dim living room, only lit by the glow of the fading white lights on the tree and carefully curated tea lights flickering on the fireplace. But he couldn’t interrupt the revelry as you danced gently around the tree you were trimming, one hand adjusting a decoration, the glass piano that once belonged to his old man, and a balloon of Pinot Noir in the other. He watched as you took a delicate sip, the floor around the tree littered with beautifully wrapped gifts and the stockings full of candies and odds and ends.

It really was a picture. You curated magic.

If he knew you, and he knew you so well, the tree would have been up on Thanksgiving evening and perfected every night until now, Christmas Eve. So beautiful in what little you wore, one of his many threadbare old Navy tees and maybe some undies underneath for modesty, or maybe not, he hoped. The reflection of the lights danced against your bare skin on display that had him swallow rough, and like most instances in your presence, hard. So hard. Three months without your touch, taste and sweet voice hard.

“Hi,” Bradley said finally, as you jolted slightly and looked in his direction, a smile growing on your face as he made his way to you, steadfast as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his forehead against yours.

“Hi,” you said simply, even though you had a thousand things you wanted to tell him. “Merry Christmas, Bradley,” you said as he smiled softly at you, grasping your cheek in his calloused palm and searching your face intently – looking for anything that may have changed, confident in his recall he could never forget one feature on your divine face.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t think you’d make it,” you confided delicately. And honestly? Neither did he.

He looked at his watch. “With moments to spare,” he said, amber eyes dancing mischievously. “God, I missed you,” he breathed, your delicate perfume grounding him, ridding away his sea legs. “May I?” he nodded towards the wine in your hand, and you gratefully passed it to him. “Like this,” he told you. “Glass for me?”

You made a face. “Like, six hours ago… maybe?”

He grinned. “That good, huh?”

“I’m sorry, but you were so late.”

“So late,” he mocked, bobbing to put the glass on the coffee table.

“And yet you still haven’t kissed me,” you mumbled.

He huffed a gentle laugh and did exactly what was expected of him. Three months away from your soft lips, and sparkling eyes as he pulled you closer to him with a firm hand on your lower back. Three months of fantasising what this moment would feel like even though it had happened dozens of times before. How slick your tongue was against his and it reminded him of the soft-spoken, even shy freshman he met in college in his sophomore year. The first time your eyes met in the dorm hall as you dragged your suitcases behind you, looking for room numbers and coming up short. So small in the ocean of chaos.

Bradley had no reason to go over and ask if he could help you. Leave the conversation with friends about, he reckoned, the Phillies… Countless students were struggling with the same problems, but you? Magnetic. No one else mattered, it was like no one else in the universe existed. And still… now? Aside from your beautiful daughters, maybe no one else did either.

That’s how Bradley Bradshaw’s kiss made you feel after all these years. The man who could have any woman he wanted, and those who still felt entitled to try and sway his attention on the infrequent nights out you shared.

And just like the boy you fell in love with, his firm hands skimmed the fabric of the tee. You felt a warm palm against your hip and drift to your thigh and of course, his intended destination, against your bare ass – “Perfect,” he breathed against your lips.

You weren’t sure when he’d started dancing with you, his hips slowly guiding you to whatever song was in the background, now you weren’t so sure because all there was was him.

As he kissed and moved you, he whispered if his girls were asleep… that no one was about to wander in from their bedroom. And as much as he wanted to see his babies, his gorgeous girls, he needed their mother more and he would eagerly see them tomorrow morning.

“Upstairs,” you told him, and he knew that meant homecoming was less raucous than it was when you were both a little young and dumber. No fucking on the couch or your back pressed up against the wall, your thigh in his calloused palm and his slacks dropped to his ankles the second he walked in. Those days were gone, greeting each other so much softer.

You weren’t entirely surprised when his hand smoothed from your side and drifted between your thighs to your delicate core. He tenderly pressed his soft lips into your pulse as his long, slender index finger tenderly skimmed the smooth skin of your pussy. “You feel good,” he breathed gently, so conscious of his voice raising and bringing the kids’ attention downstairs. “I want you. I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he moved to your lips again and he kissed you the way he did when you first started seeing each other. The way his tongue flicked against your lip, tracing with an edge of demand as you gave in, willingly falling under his spell and kissing him back with the same ferocity.

His strong thigh pressed against your core, and you gasped against his lips, the rough material of his uniform making you heady as he tilted you that little further to almost ride him.

“Not here,” you told him, guiding his pout to your mouth and leading him by the hand to your bedroom, the master bed, your sanctuary and sometimes the loneliest room in the world when Bradley was away.

Bradley wasn’t surprised to see a few candles lit in the bedroom either. As you got older, your need for romance seemed to have crept through with the solitude that came along with a husband who served and two little girls who ran you off your feet every day. Bradley, a romantic at heart, unleashed some of the sweetest things that had ever happened to you. He was always big on flowers, and planning sweet dates but physical touch was his love language.

He was a hand holder, he liked that you were the right height he could rest his lips against your temple and kiss you when close, skilled hands and massage. But it all meant so little in comparison to him holding you tightly in his arms. Something over the years you missed dearly when he was absent, you never felt safer than feeling his warm palm pressed into your lower back, the way his brawny arm would curl around your waist and tuck you into his side.

You were the other’s missing piece and so lucky to have met each other so early in life.

“Too young to fall in love, too young to get married,” Bradley reiterated all the things you heard all those years ago. “Too young to start a family.”

“They may have been right about the last part.” At 23 and in over your head with a newborn and a husband dedicating his career to defending the country was one thing, it was one of the hardest things you’d ever thrown yourself into, leaving family to move where Bradley’s job required. The other military wives took you under their wing, (s)mothering where they could. And you were so proud of all of Bradley’s achievements, but it didn’t cure the sad nights of solitude once the kids went to bed, and you had time to think about how hard it all is to do alone.

Bradley huffed a laugh into your ear. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t change anything now.”

“They never thought we’d last,” you rolled your eyes like you did every time you two embarked on this quiet joke that was now at everyone else who didn’t believe expense.

“Like I told you. From the moment I met you, it was forever,” he pulled you towards the bed, lightly tossing you towards the pillows with little effort on his behalf, you gave him a look as you adjusted against the soft pillows. “Was I wrong?”

“You’ve been very convincing,” you teased as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“In what way?” he played along.

“Well, you’re a wonderful father.”

He hummed, as he began on the buttons of his shirt. How were you supposed to continue when he was playing a strategic game of rendering his wife speechless? After 15 or so years, his body was more impressive now than the day you met him. It was almost criminal.

When you met him, a gangly 21-year-old boy who was endeavouring to improve himself, prepare himself for the rigours of being a pilot for the navy. Gym, protein shakes, gym, school. It had been quite a development, watching Bradley grow into the man he is today.

…and you got to reap every single benefit.

“Just a good dad? Shit…”

“An amazing father and from what I can gather, a pretty fantastic leader.”

“Captain, Mrs Bradshaw,” he corrected. “But I’ll overlook it this time.”

You rolled your eyes again, watching his nimble fingers get to the last button and push back the material to – disappointing. An undershirt. He tossed his shirt at you gently, his cologne wafting over your senses. “How many layers you got there, Captain Bradshaw?”

Eyebrow raised; he kept your gaze as he stripped the second layer that kept you from his golden skin. “Better?”

You didn’t hide your shallow breath. Because yes, your man was only getting finer as he got older. The precision of his well-defined muscles glowing by candlelight, the smattering of freckles across his shoulders and broad chest, abs, abdominals, abs – they seemed to go on and your favourite, his Adonis belt. May as well have been named the Bradley Belt for all you cared, because his was spectacular. You reached the familiar logo of his boxer briefs and slender hips. The snail trail that led to the jackpot. “Better,” you confirmed as he moved to his belt, slacks and zip. “More,” you replied. “I’m practically naked here.”

Bradley’s lip quirked. “I think that tee you’re wearing is at least 10 years old.”

“Sue me, it smells like you when you’re away,” you sniped as he winked cheekily and stepped out of his dropped pants, approaching the bed.

“I hope you’ve washed it after three months.”

Three months. But yes, you’d begrudgingly washed it. But it was still nice to be wrapped up in something that belonged to him when it wasn’t his arms to keep you safe. “Would have been better if you were here…”

“I know, sweetheart,” he sighed, making his way to the bed and crawling over to you, resting his cheek on your breast, tightening a grasp around your waist. “God, I missed you.”

Smoothing his curls, you tenderly kissed his temple. “No way as much as I did, Bradley.”

“Were the girls good?”

“They had their moments, but they’re nearly teenagers…”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to start fending dudes off at the door,” Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to believe his baby girls were growing so quickly. Violet was in Grade 7 and Olivia Grade 5. It was hard to miss so much of their lives and sometimes felt like lifetimes between his time at home. But he’d reconciled he would do more time on dry land this year, taking up a training facilitator role on base for new Top Gun recruits. You’d spoken about it for so long and now it looked like he was getting his opportunity to make Friday night basketball games, and swimming on Saturday mornings and whatever else was expected of him.

“Not long now,” you had to agree but as much as you wanted to tell him everything he’d missed that couldn’t be fit into the couple of minutes you managed to get him every once in a while, you were so desperate for your husband, you didn’t want to play the polite game. “Bradley?”

He hummed again.

“I want you.”

Looking up at you, he ran his slick tongue over his top lip. “Well, ma’am, I guess I’d better get to work, huh?” his grin was wet, and he reached to kiss you, so tender and sweet but you knew it was laced with so much more as he rolled you beneath him, propping himself on an elbow and using his free palm to raise your thigh over his hip. His kisses were so good, and you knew you were a keening mess for him… when weren’t you?

Gasping into his mouth as he lightly walked his fingers to your core, he was bold and spread your lips, taking your arousal, sticky and warm, he pressed your clit and started to rub, just so to relax you. You melted beneath him. After all these years, he knew exactly how to make you a bag of bones. He didn’t need to ask as he pressed his long index finger in, never once breaking the kiss, just increasing the intensity.

Making out with Bradley while he fingered you. He was going old school. Those days before you slept with him, you’d be tangled together on your shitty single bed, grinding against the other. The first time he dared touch you, how he asked so sweetly if he could try and make you cum, to finger you. When you gave him a shaky yes in reply and opened your legs to him as he slid his long fingers under the waist of your tights, his soft eyes reassuring the panic that washed over you, kissing you tenderly and promising against your lips that he’d stop if you wanted him too. You told him you wanted to because he was Bradley and you’d never met anyone like him, you’d never felt the things he was making you feel. Maybe you had something to prove – to him, to you? You weren’t sure but as Bradley’s big hands slowly tugged your tights down your legs, carelessly discarding them and seeing those pretty pink undies soaked through with your excitement, he breathed, scared he’d cum before he’d touched you. He dared to sweep your undies to the side, your pretty pussy bare and glistening for him.

He did that, he made you that wet, he thought proudly. He was so excited and popped the button on his jeans, needing to relieve some friction and moved to coax you under his arm, his nose nuzzling against yours.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable or if I need to stop,” he breathed, his gentle rasp calming you as you softly gripped his wrist.

This wasn’t the first time you’d done this, but with Bradley, it was like you’d never been touched before. He ignited sparks in you that you’d never felt before, no one else’s fingers did this… not even your own.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you as you pulled a pillow over your eyes, so shy, so bashful. He tossed away the pillow and kissed you, his hand tracing down the side of your body and index finger gathering your excitement to coat your labia and clit. He started slow and asked if you touched yourself or if you had toys. And yes, you had a vibrator that gave you a pretty good impression of what you liked but this was already wildly exceeding anything the vibe brought to the table. “Do you like this?” he was so considerate and when you hitched a breath and told him ‘faster’, the keenness to learn you clouded over and his façade darkened, turned on by you telling him what you liked and he slid another finger into you, trying not to blow his load as you started to cry out, his thumb passing on your thrumming clit and shamed, you held back how much you really wanted to come alive for him.

You knew you couldn’t bite back your moans of pleasure, and as he laughed into your skin, he reached and lifted your sweater and bra, dragging his mouth down to your pretty tits, lapping and licking and sucking as you started the shudder below him. You clawed at his wrist that was buried within you and grinding against you as he toyed with your tits more, kneading and sucking harder. He was gonna blow his load before you even touched him.

“Oh, Bradley,” your voice was so sweet as you fucked into his hand, quivering and sensitive and wet and desperate as you came. Everything all at once.

“You’re so sexy,” he crooned with his deep rasp. “I’ve never seen someone cum like this…” He kissed you deeply as you felt the last bursts of electricity flow through your body before flopping into the mattress and urgently pushing his fingers away, too sensitive. He smiled against your lips and told you it was okay, he loved seeing you lose control.

After you’d cum, and you nervously asked him if you could give him a hand job to return the favour or whatever, he knew he was in love. Young and dumb and no one could tell him differently. How he got to his back and watched as you drag his jeans off and pull down his boxers, his cock so hard, weeping precum. “Tell me if I hurt you,” you mumbled, the most nervous you’d been. “Or if you don’t like it.”

“You could never hurt me,” he hissed as you used both soft hands to wrap around his length. “That is so fuckin’ good, baby,” he managed, head sinking back into your fluffy pillows, imagining if he was to die tomorrow, he’d die happy. And as he wrapped his hand around yours, showing you the tempo he preferred, he almost came as your wet mouth wrapped around the head of his cock without warning. “Oh, shit,” he hissed unprepared, trying not to fuck your face, his hips wild. He had never been so turned on.

He’d dated and slept with a few girls, and had a few blowjobs but nothing, nothing felt like this, and he buried his big hands into your hair, massaging and encouraging you as best he could. He screeched a warning he was coming and to take your mouth away if you didn’t want to taste him. When you didn’t relinquish your sweet mouth on him, he came hard in the back of your throat and you swallowed the salty flavour of him down, he pulled you to him and kissed you deeply, telling you he thought he was in love and, silently, he hoped you were too.

“That was the best head I ever had,” he peered up. “And you’ve never given a blow job before?” he was suspicious. You shook your head bashfully, but also excited he was so happy with your attempt, and you vowed you’d only get better if it brought out this reaction in him. “Feel free any time you wanna practice,” he almost laughed, falling back against the headrest of the bed.

A few hours later, as Bradley pounded into you, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel nostalgic, recalling the first time you had sex with him. It never felt like plain old missionary with him, he tucked you in close and you’d wrap your calves around his hamstrings, keeping him close as he whispered filth in your ear.

You knew you’d bled, and you were begging not noticeably. You didn’t want that embarrassment, even if the towel caught it. Overall, it wasn’t a painful experience, Bradley had done everything to relax you, the slick of the lube reducing any real friction and he’d gone down on you before he’d even taken off his jeans. “You have the prettiest pussy, baby,” he told you as you shuddered beneath him and he continued fucking you with his fingers until you pushed his face away, so sensitive. “Okay, okay,” he cooed to you, trailing wet kisses up your naked body, exposed wholly to him.

It had been a very fun few weeks, lots of kissing, touching, and making the other cum and sneaky sleepovers but when you told him you were ready to have sex – with him – your first – Bradley couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe you would be interested in him, you were so sweet, and kind, and pretty. So sexy and he hoped, all for him. He hadn’t met anyone who he felt so connected to. He worried he was trying too hard to force something that wasn’t there, but as he slowly pushed into you, gloved cock long and girthy, stretching you and you sighed into his ear to tell him how good it felt and that you thought you were falling in love with him, everything stopped.

His hips, lips and heart froze as he must have misheard words he was desperate to return but far too timid to do so.

“Remember the days we’d be in bed all day and just fuck and laugh. Order takeout and fuck again?” Bradley said between the rolls of his hips. “I wanna be able to do that again,” he groaned in your ear as you fuckingthrobbed around him, so close as you clenched. “I’m gonna take you away in the New Year. You, me, the Maldives. Private villa and all that good lovin’ we deserve.”

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you giggled against him, excited for him and the prospect that you would spend some uninterrupted time together and you rose to meet his thrusts, spurring him on with your enthusiasm. He felt so good: strong, rough and as the head of his cock hit your G-spot, a step closer to orgasm – heaven, he wasn’t sure. He knew your body like it was his, and he brought his fingers between your bodies, brushing against your pained clit as your back arched and his tongue swirled around your nipple. He sucked on the delicate skin, as you began to quake and grunted low, your warm, slick pussy. “Yes, Bradley,” you encouraged.

“Your pretty cunt was made for me,” he murmured in your ear and that was it, you felt the quakes start in your toes, the muscles in your tummy start to coil and your pussy started to throb around his cock, your entire body on fire with desire for your sexy husband. “Yes, baby,” Bradley kissed you deeply, trying to concentrate on his thrusts but it was impossible as he made you feel so goddamn good. He raised your thigh to get that little rougher and you moaned, the gush fell between you both and he grunted, not giving you a moment of respite, chasing his orgasm. You fell back, completely spent as he laughed darkly, his cock rocking into you again, wrapping his palm around your waist and pulling you back to him. “So close, don’t give up on me now, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

“Too sensitive,” you whined to him. “Cum, Bradley,” you begged.

It was low and powerful, the feral groan that met your demands. His hips sped up, desperate for release. He couldn’t hold back anymore and as your nails pierced the tanned skin on his back, he came with a low groan and fucked more unruly thrusts into you before collapsing above you, kissing you wildly. He gasped, completely spent, still in you without intent to move. “Gonna need to burn the bed,” he uttered to you as you barely managed a reply. It was fucking like that you missed so desperately when he was away.

“That was incredible,” you said, kissing some sweat on his brow away. “I love you.”

He chuckled into your skin, pressing kisses into your pulse. “I love you, baby,” he was a dream, this man. “Good job, team,” he raised his palm for a limp high-five, both spent.

“Roll the dice,” you reiterate to Bradley. “If we get pregnant, great. If we don’t…”

“It’s you and me and we are great with that,” Bradley answered with the faintest glint of hope in his shining honey eyes. Was this happening? Was Bradley about to get the family he’d been missing for so long?!

But in the back of the afterglow of lovemaking as husband and wife, you’d told him you’d go off birth control after your honeymoon if he wanted to try for a baby so soon. You didn’t want it to be immediate, you wanted to enjoy being married and the fun that came with it. And Bradley wholeheartedly agreed.

Bradley was so determined to rise through the ranks, that you didn’t want to detract him any more than you might have but you were young and in love and when you found out you were pregnant with your first baby, a girl to be named Violet. The thing was, you were only hoping to be a newlywed once - marriage wasn't as big a thing for you as it was for Bradley so the drama of it all (even as intimate as it was for you was a one-time deal). And even babies. But even he admitted he wouldn't have the first idea of how to do it since his dad wasn't around when he was growing up and Maverick wasn't exactly a glowing example of fatherhood.

He was a smitten young man. A beautiful wife, and a gorgeous little girl waiting at home for him while he served his country and continued slowly but surely through the ranks, getting a reputation as Rooster, slow into the fight.

Or Rooster, and the size of his cock, you’d joked quietly one evening. The way he seemed so scandalised and as the devil crept into his gold eyes, the grin behind his growing moustache was seen to be believed. Not many people knew that about the version of it, you shared, and when you’d learned he’d been adorned with it, whoever gave him the callsign would rue the day of the double entendre. One of life’s funny coincidences and Bradley wouldn’t wipe the devious smile off his face when you’d christened him with it.

When Violet was three, you found out Olivia was going to come into the world punching. Now both tweens and the baby-making days were well behind you both, you felt like you were starting to live your lives again, not bogged down with school runs, weeknight ballet, gymnastics, basketball, softball, soccer and whatever else they were desperate to try. Both athletic like their father, you felt like a taxi when Bradley was away, running the girls from one thing to the next, the sweet solace sometimes found when both girls were away from home at sleepovers and the like.

They were the nights you couldn’t wait to introduce to Bradley. A date night, Jesus, wine on the couch uninterrupted for a drop-off or pick up to what was for dinner or “Mama, I have an assignment due tomorrow and I haven’t started.”

Recalling when your period was late after about two cycles after going off birth control, you kind of hoped it was the drama of irregular periods and what it brought. It was why you went on the pill in the first place in your teens.

But there was something different while you channel surfed and Bradley cooked in the kitchen. A strange cramping in your tummy. Not unbearable, but noticeable as you sat up, a little perplexed. It was too early for a period and you weren’t ovulating. Popping up, you joined Bradley in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his hips to kiss between his shoulder blades. He smiled, turning back for a quick peck before you quietly excused yourself to do a pregnancy test. And you weren’t entirely surprised when it revealed you were 1-2 weeks pregnant. And you weren’t entirely surprised when you showed him the positive pregnancy test after dinner that still certainly said PREGNANT in fat, bold letters.

“It tells you how many weeks?” Bradley was astonished.

“Clever, huh?” you said quietly. Bradley watched you, he looked at the test, begging it wasn’t about to flash NOT PREGNANT and he’d read incorrectly – but he gazed back at you. Unreadable at best, erring on the side of too quiet. Reserved, he had trouble reading you sometimes, and this was one he'd need you to talk through. He needed to know exactly what was going on through your head.

“You good?” he asked softly, grasping the test in his strong palm. It was so small, but it held his world in his grip. He put the test down to caress your jaw, forcing your gaze to him. “Baby…” his fingers light as they had sunk into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Sweetheart,” he called to you.

“I think I am. It’s just… quick," you surrender, falling into his sound touch. And he was due to leave within weeks. You were 23, you had only just found the job of your dreams -

“It is quick,” Bradley agreed, kissing your hair. “Is it too quick?”

“Maybe…” you admitted as he pressed a kiss into your temple and wrapped his strong arms around you. He felt so warm and so protective as he held you without question, you really couldn’t imagine life without him right there. What if something happened on tour, what if -

“If it’s too soon, that’s okay," he said softly.

You looked up at him, trying to placate your growing fear. What if he never came home? “I just thought we’d have more time maybe.”

He bit back his smile and sighed. “Sweetheart, is this what you want? If you're not ready - if you have changed your mind - ”

“I’m not sure.”

He nodded. “That’s okay.”

Well, it wasn’t – it was a choice you’d actively made together. To make love, to make a baby. The liberty of changing your mind seemed so incredibly unfair to you and Bradley after you were both so sure this was what you wanted. “I think I just need some time,” you admitted, cutting him off. “Just to get used to it all happening.”

Bradley softened. He in no way felt like it was his place to speak. He could not hold you and whisper that whatever you decided was okay, and he would support you with anything you decided.

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - ” You shut your mouth and the guilt of the situation started to overwhelm you, Bradley chose to remain mute. “Would you hate me?”

“No. Oh sweetheart,” he kissed your hair. “But I would never live with myself if I forced you to do something you weren’t ready for. Come,” he took your hands and led you to the bedroom. He helped you take off your clothes and change into your oversized nightie, his large palm lingering gently over your abdomen for just a second longer than he should have… his baby in your soft belly.

He pulled back the duvet and patted your pillow. You snuck under the cold sheets and he climbed in after you, the scorching skin of his chest against your back. His fingertips traced your hip, slowly drawing his name on your skin. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay. But it's still something you'll need to consider..."

"I want this," you were able to say, but it was easier with him not boring his eyes into yours. He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled the nape of your neck. “I think…”

"I love you," he said so softly you almost didn't hear him. “I won't let you do this alone. Whatever you decide, I’m right there with you.”

But with a belly of arms and legs and your sheepish husband standing before you a few months later, you screeched, "You're getting deployed?" you looked at Bradley, eyes wild, six months of baby belly all that separated you. His head fell back.

"I know."

"You know?" you mimicked sarcastically, spoiled for months of your husband home with flight and combat training simulations and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter."

"I know..." he said a little meeker. He was sick about this conversation. Sick.

"Did you not put in the leave paperwork?"

"Of course I did,” he did, he did. Didn’t he? Shit, he doubted himself for one second but in this instance knew beggars couldn’t be choosers and he had his leave approved, but he also had his orders and he was so close really getting into it.

His career was on such a sheer trajectory, his head was swimming with its force.

“Is anyone going with you?”

"Payback, Phoenix," he confirmed softly.

“Will you be home for Christmas?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he stepped towards you, his large palms sinking into the round belly under his grasp, tickling the stretching skin. You sighed and collapsed into his hold.

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise our baby on my own,” you said, the fear in your voice evident.

“And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair.

"If you see one ounce of action, I swear, don't dare come home."

He nodded. Dear God, he knew.

“Come on, Mama, give it to me,” Bradley urged as he held your ribs, thumbs toying with your nipples, that delicate roll of your hips grinding down on him as the sun started to rise. Neither of you slept even though you were both exhausted, you wanted to ground yourselves together before the madness of the day commenced. Between lovemaking, different positions and so much mess, you just chatted quietly, catching the other up on what they missed, knowing full well you would be next to useless for the lunch Penny was putting on with Mav (you were flying out in a few days to spend New Year with your parents). “Look at you, as sexy as the day I met you,” he continued, chewing his lower lip – he was close but we wouldn’t cum until you did. “Pretty little thing.”

Bradley had leaned into the whole encouragement during sex – and you will credit him for bringing out a wilder side you never knew you had in you – his voice still made your stomach flip flop and how off, give him everything he deserved in your shared pleasure and more.

“Mama, is Daddy home?” you heard a screech from upstairs. Olivia. Daddy’s girl. “His bag is at the door!” A prompise Bradley had always made his girls was he would wake them even if it was the dead of night to reassure them he was home.

Last night… he did not.

Bradley’s eyes flicked open as you paused above him, knowing your girls were unlikely to burst in but also… Dad was home and maybe, just maybe they were likely to run in excitedly. He rolled you off him quickly and you landed with such a lack of grace that he snorted and he tossed his tee at you, hitting you square in the face. He scoffed another chuckle as he reached for his discarded boxer briefs and stood to height, still hard but if you knew him, visualising the worst of the worst to settle. “I’m home. I’ll be right out, just need to hit the bathroom, girls,” he carefully called back, starting for the door and snuck a look back at you. “You got five minutes; I know I can’t hold those two wildcats back from a tree with presents under it.”

You nodded with a grin as you pulled the shirt over your head and moved towards the en suite but not before changing direction and stopping him before he went to see his girls and pulling an old Lakers singlet over his – god, so many golden muscles. “Merry Christmas, Bradley,” you tenderly traced an ab or eight and he smiled, bending to kiss you. “Last night was so good. Been a while since we had a night like that.”

He chuckled lightly against your lips. Pride evident, he shrugged. “I miss the days we’d fuck for hours,” he sighed, low. “We’re going away, just you and me. Okay?”

“I can’t wait, handsome,” you told him as he kissed you again -

“Dad?” Violet now.

“At ease, Captain,” you told him as he playfully did as instructed, kissed your forehead softly and let the reign of terror commence, greeting his darling girls after months apart with excited hugs, kisses and giggles.

“I missed my girls,” you heard Bradley rumble. And it was always the same, the way he’d swallow back the emotion of seeing how much he’d missed. “You two have to stop growing, okay?”

“Or you could stop traveling,” Olivia said, often quite vocal about how often her dad was away.

Hearing your name as you straightened in front of the mirror a few minutes later, brushing your mussed hair and impatient with the slight burn Bradley’s moustache caused on your upper lip (pussy and thighs but that was a tale for another day), you wrapped yourself in your light gown. You breathed and headed to the living room to start your Christmas morning, your girls perched in front of the tree, the lights still fading in and out after a night left on, and your husband safe and sound on the couch. He winked, the happiest man on the planet with his three girls, everything exactly where it belonged.

Even last night’s half-full wine glass.

870 notes · View notes

mothdruid · 1 year

Text

Concerned Neighbor

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: Bradley and you are neighbors, sharing a duplex owned by Mav. But Bradley never realized how paper thin the walls really were until one night. He learned the difference between your moans, from true pleasure and fake pleasure. He makes it a point to show you true pleasure when with someone.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, protected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (male and female), vaginal fingering, jealousy, listening through the walls, possessive!Bradley, degradation and praise kinks

a/n: this idea was brought to you by @emerald-chaos and it's also unbeta'd, so don't mind my mistakes pls. and yes, I'm using the same Bradley gif I use for all my Bradley fics.

When Mav first brought up renting out the other half of the duplex, Bradley was hesitant. He had been reminded that it was Mav’s decision and to 'play nice' with the other tenant. And how could Bradley not 'play nice' when you were the person he was sharing a wall with. He would never forget the first time he met you, your smile bright as you awkwardly tried to open your door while carrying a box. That's where Bradley came in, offering to help carry the box. And that was where your friendship began.

Bradley did admit it was nice having you there. You watched his cat while he went on leave, making you its mother practically. Him mowing your side of the lawn, you collecting his mail while he was gone. It created this odd relationship, which created your now bi-weekly dinner date the two of you had. Sharing your company for a little while every so often made him not feel as lonely. Reminding him he still had the proper skills to interact with more than just fellow aviators.

Everything was just going swimmingly until he heard it one night. That's when he started to curse the fact your bedroom was next to his. Only a thin wall separating the two rooms. Bradley assumed that his room lined yours, but this was a confirmation. At first he wasn’t sure if it was all just in his head. He hadn’t been physical with anyone for a long time, so maybe it was his brains way of saying he needed to get a fuck in. But then he heard it again. And again.

It was the sound of you, moaning in pleasure. Bradley wasn't quite sure when his hand had drifted down to his grey sweatpants, palming his growing erection. He hadn't realized how paper thin the walls were, your breathing was almost audible to him. Hearing every moan and gasp you had to offer.

The thought of you touching yourself, vibrator on your clit, or maybe even a dildo inside of you had Bradley biting back groans. It wasn't like he never thought of you as attractive, cause God you were to him. The image of you laid out for him, touching yourself or eagerly taking his cock had him fisting his dick. Your mouth would be hanging open, those moans he was hearing falling past your lips.

It was obvious when you crept closer to your orgasm, moans getting louder and more frequent. So he timed it perfectly, thrusting into his hand and groaning when eventually he heard you hit your climax. He followed suit shortly afterwards, hot spurts of cum covering his stomach. Bradley laid there staring at the ceiling with his hand still wrapped around his cock, wondering how he would ever face you again.

A few days passed and he didn't see you, not really leaving the house in all honesty. Even though he wasn't seeing you, he was still hearing you. Every night he would hear your moans. Bradley couldn't help but take advantage of them every night, fucking his hand and wishing it was you instead. Then one day, he was greeted by a new car in your driveway. He assumed it was a friend, until later that night.

It was almost like a schedule. He would get in bed at 8pm every night, wait about ten minutes, then hear your moans, signaling it was time for him to shuck off his sweatpants. But tonight wasn't like that. He didn't hear anything from your side of the wall until about 8:40pm. He knows because he checked his phone. And the noises he heard tonight weren't the same.

The sounds he heard tonight were a different pitch, not sounding like you. They sounded forced, fake. Bradley even got out of bed to check the driveway, still seeing that unfamiliar car in your driveway. He honestly couldn't bear the thought of it. You fucking someone was fine, but not being pleased and full of pleasure? Hell no, you deserved more than subpar sex. He hadn't even heard the usual climax ending you had every night.

Bradley didn't know how to approach the situation though. It's not like he could just bring it up to you, explaining that he could hear you through the walls. You would definitely move out after that confession he figured. So, Bradley decided not to ignore you anymore. He would come over daily and ask how you were and if you needed my help around the house. Hell, he even mowed your half of the yard. But it got him nowhere.

Bradley was yearning for your bi-weekly dinner, only a week away. He wanted something to happen that night, hoping you'd give him some form of opening. He saw that same unfamiliar car five days before your dinner, making him irritated. Bradley knew he wouldn't be able to take another night of your fake moans, so he left and went to the local bar for a few hours.

When he came home the car was gone and the lights on your side of the duplex were still on. Bradley slipped into his own side, finding his way into bed quickly. He laid there for a few moments, ruminating on the idea of you getting fucked by some random man that didn't even know how to please you properly. After a few more moments he heard it though. Heard you.

It was those soft and pleasure filled moans he loved to hear. They immediately went to his cock. His hand palmed at the front of his boxers, as he listened. Every moan was something angelic yet sinful. Bradley craved to hear them without the barrier of the wall so bad. His hand pumped his cock as he heard your moans pick up.

A heat was rising in his chest and cheeks, his mind thinking about how good you would look splayed out. Legs spread wide, one set of fingers working your clit, while your other hand pumped a dildo in and out of your greedy hole. Bradley bit back a groan, thinking about what it'd feel like to be inside of you. Bradley paced himself with your moans, waiting until the last moment to follow you over the edge. As he laid there on his bed with his spent cock resting against his abdomen, he wondered how he was going to face you at dinner.

The bi-weekly dinner came faster than what Bradley expected. Five days passed in the blink of an eye. But he had heard you every night, and that car never showed back up. He hoped that the car would never show back up again. He wanted you to be taken care of, hoping he would be the one to do it.

You were currently on his living room floor, twirling a stick with ribbons attached to it across the floor for his cat. His cat, Twix, aggressively chased the blue curled up ribbons back and forth on the floor. Twix was a stray that Bradley had found, the short haired tabby keeping him company and not completely lonely. Bradley watched the two of you play as he continued with dinner. He wasn't sure when you noticed him watching, but he couldn't help but smile when he caught your gaze.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

Bradley got out a can of cat food, distracting Twix from the toy you had. After Bradley plated Twix's canned food, he made up both of your plates and took them to the table. There was just small talk through the entire dinner, Bradley not wanting to ruin it with the main topic on his mind.

"You okay, B?" Bradley nodded with a small smile.

"Yeah, I think so." You tilted your head.

"Think so?" You shot him a questioning look. "You know you can tell me." Both of your plates were empty, signaling to Bradley he could finally bring up the subject.

"Who did you have over this week?" Bradley didn't mean for it to come out so demanding. But it did, and there was no way of taking it back.

"What do you mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"There was a car in the driveway."

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I can see who I want to see."

"I know you ju-"

"Sorry, I'm not like you." Bradley's eyebrows knitted together, his hazel eyes staring at you intensely.

"I'm sorry, what?" You knew you ticked a nerve.

"Bradley, you know what I mean."

"No, not sure I do. Explain. Now." The tone in his voice sent a chill down your spine. You straighten your posture, interlacing your fingers and placing your hands on the table.

"Well you just. All because you don't bring anyone home doesn't mean I don't have to." You thought it'd be awkward, but it wasn't. Something in his stare had changed, it wasn't intimidating anymore. It was something more playful. A smirk pulled at one side of his mouth.

"Even if he can't get you off." Your eyes grew wide.

"Wha-"

"You think I don't hear you?" You stared at him. A heat started to rise in your cheeks, as well as between your thighs. Bradley had been listening to you? The thought of him fisting his cock while listening to you fuck someone else plagued your mind. "Hear your little moans every night?" That's when it dawned on you. Your room shared a wall with Bradley's.

Bradley took notice of the way your face changed. It wasn’t shocking, more akin to something else. He watched as you took your lower lip between your teeth, gaze looking away from him for a moment. You took your hands from the table, placing them in your lap. Your thighs squeezed tightly as you felt his eyes crawl over you. You had always found Bradley attractive, but never considered the possibility of him coming on to you. The thought of him jerking off to your sounds plagued your mind, showing you just how desperate he actually was for you. Your eyes flicked up to meet his blazing hazel orbs. A surge of courage ran through your veins.

“How many times did you hear me?”

“All of them.” A heat blazed through your body like a forest fire. “You should fuck someone who actually makes you feel good.” Bradley leaned across the table, playful smirk on his lips. “Someone that has you moaning like when you finger fuck yourself.” Your insides clenched at his words, thighs squeezing together once more.

“Is that what you want?” A tension was swirling between the two of you now. The both of you knew exactly what each other wanted.

“Just a concerned neighbor is all.”

“If you’re so concerned about this problem, then fix it.” You emphasized the T at the end of the sentence. Bradley quirked an eyebrow. The two of you stared at each other for a while, only the small bell on Twix’s collar filling the silence.

“You sure you want that?” Bradley asked. “Want me to ruin you for anyone else? Make you come crawling back?” Bradley stood up, taking a few steps until he was standing next to you. You turned and looked up at him, eyes unwavering as you answered him.

“Show me what a ‘concerned neighbor’ can do.” Bradley’s hand moved to your chin, taking it between his thumb and pointer finger. A smirk adorned his face, eyes scanning your face.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.” Bradley’s fingers started pulling on your chin, hinting at you to stand up. You made your way to your feet, a fire surging underneath your skin. His fingers drifted down your jaw, hand moving to cup the back of your neck. Bradley leaned down, lips barely touching your earlobe. “I can’t wait to hear those pretty moans. The ones you make while you touch yourself.”

Teeth and lips clashed together, neither of you sure who kissed the other first. Bradley’s fingers tightened around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer towards him. His hand grabbed at your hip, kneading the flesh underneath your t-shirt. One of your hands threaded into his honey locks, tugging lightly. They were softer than you had ever imagined.

“Fuck.” Bradley whispered, his hot lips traveling down your jawline to your neck. The hand on the back of your neck disappeared, ghosting down your side to your hips. Rough hands grappled with your waist, kneading at the flesh under your shirt. The tiny hairs of his mustache prodded at your skin, urging you to keep up with him. It was as if Bradley wanted to consume you, know everything your body had to offer.

Bradley needed to know the exact things that made you moan. One of his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you flush against him. A hardness pressed against your abdomen and pelvis, letting you know Bradley was enjoying this. Your hips rocked against his, the hand on your ass trailing to the small of your back. He kept you pressed against him like that as he backed you up towards the wall.

A hand was now pressing on your core, rubbing you over your pants. Bradley pulled back to watch you, listening to your gasps and moans while he provided you with minimal pleasure.

“Must have thought about this for a while, with the way you’re moaning.” Bradley sneered. It wasn’t a lie, ever since you had moved in he plagued your mind. He was your main source of masturbation material, the idea of him being more than just your neighbor.

“What if I have? Thought about this before.” The words were like honey to Bradley, sweet and just what he wanted. Both of his hands went to the front of your body, one moving to work at the button of your pants while the other kneaded your breast.

“Is that what you thought about when you fucked yourself? Wishing it was me deep inside of you?” His hand slipped down the front of your pants and panties, fingers slipping between your folds. A groan tore through Bradley’s throat. “Fuck, how are you this wet already? This wet and we still have our clothes on.”

“It’s been a serious problem.” He covers your neck with hot and wet kisses, fingers circling your clit. They were tight and quick circles, ones that made your abdomen tense up. You knew you would last long, especially at this pace. It’s like Bradley already had a map of your body, with each sensitive spot marked with an ‘x’.

“Should have let me fix it sooner. Not have those useless dudes try to fix it.” Bradley’s tone had your insides melting. All you could do was stare at him, lips parted while moans fell from them. Without warning he removed his hand from your pants, turning you around and pressing you against the wall. His hands hooked into your pants and panties and pushed them down to your knees. His hand returned, this time his fingers tracing your entrance.

“God, this hole is so needy for me.” Bradley pressed two fingers into you, filling you up just the way you needed. He draped his body over yours, pressing your chest to the wall. His mouth nursed at your neck, nipping at the tender spot below your earlobe.

“Only for you, Bradley.” A soft growl came from him, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, stretching you open. A wave of pleasure ran over you as his fingers brushed that special spot inside of you. “Fuck! Ri-right there.”

Bradley added another finger at your words, zeroing in on that one spot inside of you. He could feel your walls clenching, tightening around his digits. He knew you were close and so did you. The tightness in your abdomen was almost unbearable, waiting for the tension to snap. A mix of swears and his name were pouring out of your mouth.

“You sound so fucking good moaning my name.” Bradley’s cock twitched every time you moaned his name. He never realized how much of an effect it would have on him. “Only my name, nobody else's. Nobody can make you feel like this, only me.” Bradley whispered in your ear.

“Only you, Br-Bradley!” You stuttered at his name as you came. The tension in your abdomen finally snapped. Your walls tightened around his digits and he helped you ride out your high. A groan came from him, his forehead pressing tightly to your shoulder as he just felt and listened to you.

A shaky breath passed your lips when he removed his fingers from you. Bradley’s hands found your pants and panties that were still around your knees, pushing them down and helping you fully remove them. He pressed kisses all the way up the back of your legs, biting at the meat of your ass eventually. As your legs regained consciousness, he gestured for the two of you to go to his bedroom.

“If I’m fucking you right, I’m fucking you in my bed.” You nodded, still a little blissed out from your first orgasm. You took the hand he had held out and followed him.

You immediately climbed onto his bed, not waiting for him to direct you. He shucked his shirt off once reaching the bedroom, just in time to watch you. Bradley stood at the foot of the bed, watching you put on a show for him. The skin of your back slowly became more exposed and you dragged your shirt up your body. His eyes scanned your skin, taking it all in as territory that he finally was able to claim. He couldn't help his hand drifting towards his pants, rubbing at the strained fabric covering his cock. He saw the bubblegum pink bralette, making him wonder if your panties were matching. He didn’t pay much attention to them when he took them off you. Your hand trailed up your sides, grabbing at the band of your bralette and tossing it to his floor.

Bradley bit his lower lip, coming around the side of the bed to see you. You turned to him, letting him see you completely bare. Bradley started to kneel at the edge of the bed, his hands moving out to grab your legs. He pulled you closer to the edge, pushing your legs apart and putting your cunt on full view for him.

“Look at you.” Bradley said as he dove between your thighs. He drug his tongue up and down your slit, flicking it against your clit. He brought a hand around your thigh, using his fingers to open your folds even more. You propped yourself up on your elbows, moaning and whining as he feasted on your cunt.

It was as if he was a mad man and this was his only purpose. His mustache rubbed against your clit as he licked lower, your hips stuttering at the sensation. Your back arched when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance again, pushing inside of you while his tongue worked over your clit. Shivers ran through you as the tension in your abdomen returned. Bradley groaned against you, the vibrations making your legs shake. You brought a hand to his locks, threading your fingers through them.

“You taste so fucking good.” Bradley groaned as you tugged at his hair. The tension in your abdomen was tight, threatening to snap at any moment. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking just enough to push you over the edge. His tongue never left your clit, flicking as your body shook with pleasure.

“Bradley! Fuck!” Your legs went to squeeze shut, the sensation becoming too much. But Bradley stopped them, grabbing the inside of your thighs and forcing them open. Your entire body was tight, your orgasm feeling like it was never going to end. “It’s too much! Bradley, please!”

Bradley pulled back after you begged him to stop, letting you finally catch your breath. You laid on the bed, chest heaving from each breath. This was the first time you had ever felt like this, this blissed out from a man. You had enough trouble getting off once during sex with most men, let alone twice. But here was your neighbor, easily pulling to orgasms out of you because he was jealous. That’s when you heard the sound of a zipper, pulling you back from your post-orgasmic thoughts.

Bradley was standing up now, jeans low and open on his hips. His hand was pushed down past his waistband, working his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Steadily you sat up, legs draping down off the side of the bed. You reached out, pulling at the waistband of his jeans. You pushed them down his legs, him kicking them off to the side. Next your fingers trailed around the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.” Bradley joked as he watched your fingers slip into the waistband. You flicked him a glare as you pushed them down his legs. His cock was red and angry, standing at full attention. You had always assumed he was big, but this just confirmed your suspicions. You wrapped a hand around the base stroking lightly. Bradley watched with his mouth agape, tongue running over his lips.

You pressed your lips to the tip, licking softly before taking the tip into your mouth. Bradley let out a deep groan as he watched your lips part, taking him into your mouth. He let his head fall back, trying to focus on the feeling of your hot mouth wrapped around his cock. This was a moment he had dreamed of since hearing your moans. But he didn’t know if it was enough. He wanted to be in you, fucking you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I can’t.” You gave him a curious look, pulling off of him. Before you could ask him he spoke, “I need to be in you now.”

Bradley pushed you up the bed, draping his body over yours. He reached over into his bedside table, grabbing for a condom. You watched as he tore the wrapper with his teeth, tossing the wrapper to the floor. He rolled the condom down his cock, running his cock between your folds. Every time his head rubbed your clit you quaked, shocks of pleasure rolling through you.

“God, you’re gonna look so good taking me. Letting me ruin you for everyone else, making sure you only want me.” Bradley settled between your legs and lined up, pressing the head of his cock in your entrance.

A moan fell from you as he pushed in you, stretching you with only the head of his cock. Inch by inch he eased into you, rocking his hips slowly. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, kissing at your clavicle. When he was fully seated inside of you he paused, listening to your breaths. He pulled back to look at you, a look asking for permission on his face.

“Fuck me, Bradley. Make me yours.” Bradley groaned. His hips pulled back, slamming back into you in an instant. He set a brutal pace, heavy deep thrusts as he filled you. He kissed down your neck and chest, kissing at your breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth.

“You’re so fucking dirty, fucking other men while wishing they were me.” His words were intoxicating, speaking truth that you didn’t know he knew. You clenched around him at his words, letting him know he was right. “What a fucking slut. But that’s okay, I have you now. Gonna fuck you so good.” Bradley continued to babble on, talking about how you were made for him and that he was made for you.

“Bradley, you- fuck!” Bradley adjusted, changing the position slightly. He sat back on his heels, grabbing the underneath of your knees and holding your legs out. He thrusted inside of you, immediately hitting that spot inside of you. Your back arched hard, walls clenching around him. Bradley didn’t like to be a two minute man, but the way you were squeezing around his cock was making it hard.

“You feel so fucking good! Fuck! It’s like you’re sucking me in.” Bradley pushed your legs together, leaning over you. He practically had you folded in half as he pounded into you. “Say it, please say my name.” It was almost like a plea when he asked.

“Bradley! Please!” Bradley knew you were close, he could feel how close you were. He was close too, had been close for awhile but was trying to hold out for you. It was all becoming too much for you. You were on the edge of your third orgasm, the spot inside of you being hit over and over again. Bradley let your legs fall apart, finding your clit with his fingers and rubbing it. That was it.

His name was all you said as you came, clenching his cock impossibly tight. Bradley held out for a bit longer, helping you ride out your orgasm. He leaned down and captured your lips with his, a small taste of you still noticeable. You moaned as he pounded into you a little bit more, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

A groan ripped through him as he came, his thrusts stuttered as he unloaded into the condom. He rested his head on your chest, the both of you trying to catch your own breath. You started tracing small circles on the expanse of his back. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a moment. Bradley was the one to break it as he shifted, pulling out of you.

“So, problem fixed?” He asked. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your side.

“I think so.” You responded while yawning. “But I would like to keep it fixed.” Bradley smiled as he stood up, taking the condom off and tying it. He leaned over, placing a kiss on your temple.

“Good, cause I don’t think I can give you up now. Plus, I think Twix would be mad if you stopped coming around.” He helped you stand, the both of you making your way to the bathroom. You sat on the toilet as he cleaned himself with a wet washcloth, leaving it sitting in the sink when he was finished. Twix mingled in between your feet, meowing at the both of you. You gave him a small scratch on the head before leaving the bathroom. You went back to Bradley’s bedroom, crawling into the bed and under the covers. Bradley followed shortly afterwards, cuddling you from behind.

The next thing you knew you were waking up, a heavy weight on your chest. You looked up to find a cat on you, Twix specifically. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you and Bradley must have. Which made you look over, seeing your neighbor in bed next to you. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open as he slept. A warmth spread in you, knowing that all your problems were fixed.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x f!reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster fic #top gun fic #top gun smut

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beyondthesefourwalls · 5 months

Text

The Over/Under

Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce

Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?

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“What about him?”

“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.”

“Him?”

“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.”

“Okay, what about him?”

“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!”

The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.

Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?”

“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?”

You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally.

“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?”

Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense.

Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left.

You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.

You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly.

You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.”

Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot."

You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.

He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how

A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too.

You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back.

She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity.

“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.

“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact.

He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.”

You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours.

“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight.

“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking.

“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne.

He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on.

“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded.

“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.”

You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny.

“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?”

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return.

But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all.

“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.”

“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy.

“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.”

The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.”

Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more.

The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs.

You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.

It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him.

You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence.

You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.

Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.”

He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.”

The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.”

His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Try me.”

He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!”

“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy.

“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.”

“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.”

It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it.

“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.”

“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.”

It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more.

“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so.

“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed.

“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered.

“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease.

“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.”

If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”

“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.”

“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.

“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.”

He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world.

“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you.

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.

You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise.

He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly.

You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him.

You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could.

“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded.

“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.

“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching.

Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air.

He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.

He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent.

“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.”

It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later.

You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval.

You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry.

Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat.

“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow.

He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him.

You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you.

“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you.

He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly.

You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply.

His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal.

“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…”

He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?” You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance.

“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full.

“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.

“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again.

His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close.

“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.”

You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you.

He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow.

It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words.

“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”

Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”

Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that.

This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going.

“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask.

He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”

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

Main Masterlist

Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚

Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!

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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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glossgojo · 11 months

Text

picture perfect guy

rooster x afab!reader | 2.5k words

summary: it’s not like you ever forget your boyfriend is strong but seeing it so blatantly displayed makes you dizzy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, strength kink (?), sweat kink (if u squint), size kink, man-handling, no protection don’t be like them, p in v sex, reader is down bad, secret relationship, big dick rooster, he’s just big in general, shorter reader, reader works in the navy, lowkey power dynamics where reader is higher up, rank kink, pet names (girl, baby, etc), fuck the army in more ways than one

you heard what happened in the simulation, working at top gun meant that the pilot training was of utmost importance. no one knew about your relationship and you wanted to keep it that way until the mission ended.

you made your way to the tarmac, wanting to see your boyfriend and your friends doing their punishment. in fairness as maverick’s right hand you had valid reason to make sure they did as told. your boots hitting the sweltering pavement as you made out your boyfriend doing push ups. you were sure his hands were burning up and his body was screaming from exhaustion, you grew closer seeing hondo watching them. you did your best to pay equal attention to phoenix and bob but failed completely as you heard rooster grunting. sweat beaded down his forehead and his skin shined under the sun, a sheen of perspiration on his muscular arms. you swallowed down hard, tearing your gaze from him as you looked to hondo for a count, he looked at you with a wry look and yelled out, “150.”

“i can take over, it’s hot as hell out here.” you elbowed him, he shot you a smile before counting once more and giving you an appreciative nod of the head. your eyes quickly returned to rooster. he grunted once more, moving up and down only looking up when you yelled out the next number. his furrowed brows and glare dissipated like a lovestruck puppy as he met your eyes, you shook your head to dissuade him, to try and make his response less obvious. luckily you turned to find hondo already walking away. bob and phoenix were too busy fighting the ache in their arms to notice or care. it wasn’t like you were the best actors in the world, hangman made countless jokes at the expense of both of you until you reminded him of your rank. you continued counting not missing how bradley’s eyes never seemed to leave you. he was sneaking glances as much as he could, even craning his head as you walked towards bob when you noticed him slacking off. “eyes forward rooster,” you didn’t have to look at him to see his eyes squarely planted on your ass.

you knew your boyfriend was strong, but times like this reminded you just how strong. your rooster, your bradley was mostly gentle with you. when you first started dating you had no idea just how his training affected him, even saying that you were too heavy to sit on his lap. you still remember his slightly offended expression as he tugged you onto his lap and said, “baby i could bench two of you, are you trying to hurt my feelings?” his words, just like they did the first time he said it, made your stomach drop and your thighs squeeze together. you wanted him so badly, wanted him to break you. you knew you were being unfair, the man was 165 push-ups deep in the sweltering california heat. it didn’t stop your greedy eyes from raking over his frame once again, his back muscles bulging through his black shirt as he strained them. you felt your heartbeat pick up and move south. this was torture, for all parties involved. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your uniform, it was lower than you’d usually wear in the base but the only person who had their eyes on you was bradley. the remaining push-ups went as well as they could’ve, all three lieutenants struggling against their bodies grunting and groaning as they struggled through. when it was finally over bob collapsed to the ground, welcoming the hot pavement against his skin. phoenix and rooster shakily stood. you told them both good work, offering bob a hand up which he refused. “just need to catch my breath.” you nodded and threw him a water bottle from the cooler nearby. rooster and phoenix helped themselves to the drinks. phoenix said something about needing to wash up which you nodded dumbly at not really listening when your stupidly handsome boyfriend was drinking down water like his life depended on it, water dribbling down his chin. your eyes tracked the drops as they ran down his neck and under his shirt, you so badly wanted to lick them off, feel the cool liquid against your lips but most importantly feel skin on yours. you felt an inexplicable urge to just lick him clean, you’d blame it on the heat. your entire body burned with a need for him, to taste him to drink him in, to have him. bradley groaned as he finished off his bottle, your mouth slightly agape when he caught your stare and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. his eyes flashed from confusion to all knowing, he could practically feel the desire radiating off you.

“lieutenant bradshaw, are you done for the day?” you should’ve known the answer, he was under your jurisdiction after all, but your mind couldn’t recall anything about today besides his arms and back. bradley licked his lips, feeling himself grow half-hard at the use of his rank. his breath was shallow as he spoke next.

“i’ll be leaving in 15 minutes after i shower.” his eyes flick down to your opened collar you’d forgotten about that until his wide brown eyes seemed to get wider at the sight. you buttoned up, noticing the small pout to his lips. it truly was a miracle the entire base didn’t know due to how obvious your boyfriend was.

“what a coincidence so will i.” you said, shooting him a small smile before heading off towards the base. you heard him running up to your side, following you back inside.

15 minutes later exactly, you found bradley waiting for you next to his truck. he opened the door for you and you put your hand over his as you entered. you both agreed after almost being caught in your office not to do anything physical on the base. that meant as soon as you were off the base, his hand slid onto your bare thigh, you’d changed into a sundress just like he changed into shorts and his usual hawaiian shirt. you were already so desperate for him, his rough large hand covered your thigh and you squirmed in your seat. the drive to bradley and your’s place felt longer than usual, neither of you breaking the silence. after what felt like years you both entered your home, tugging bradley to you by his shirt, your lips finding his as you leaned up onto your toes. he gasped into your mouth, his mustache tickling against you, his arms encircled your waist and you moaned at the feeling. his arms had driven you insane all day and now they were squeezing you like you were nothing. bradley pulled back at the noise, shocked at how you were so gone from a kiss alone, not knowing your train of thought. you leaned back, moving your arms from around his neck to touch his arms, you trailed them up and down feeling the muscle there as bradley watched you, slowly piecing the puzzle together.

“is my girl all worked up from watching me work-out?” his voice was hushed, heavy with want and you felt heat surge between your thighs as he aptly deduced what had you so dizzy.

“you’re so strong, so big, God bradley.” your hands trailed up his arms, to the broadness of his shoulders, traveled to his back to feel the raw power there too. bradley couldn’t help but let that comment get to head as he took in your dazed expression and smirked. at times like this he wondered how he got so lucky. he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around your waist as your chest pressed against his. he could feel all of you now, you could feel his hard-on against your stomach. you looked up at his eyes, finally tearing them away from his body. you whimpered as he lifted you clean off the floor, not even flinching or breaking eye contact. you were a doll in his hold, propped up so he could get a good look at you, finally eye level with him. your breathing got shallower, and bradley had confirmed all he needed to know, hauling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom.

bradley easily threw you on the bed, stealing the air from your lungs as you crawled up the bed. he pulled his shirt off, his tank to go next, only his dog tags against his bare toned chest. your cheeks flushed as his gaze met yours, his eyes dark with lust, pupils blown wide surrounded by hazel. you were sure you weren’t any different. “pretty, always so fucking pretty.” he murmured, in a daze just like you, wrapping a hand on your ankle and pulling you towards him, at the edge of your bed. his strength, the way he easily threw you around, made your thighs clench and bradley didn’t miss it this time. smirking as he hovered over you, pulling you by the back of your head to kiss him. he pulled back only to kiss your neck, then your collarbone, before he was pushing your sleeve down, ripping the seam in the process, making you hiss. too fucking strong and too fucking desperate for you, you were choking back a moan but didn’t want to egg him on.

“roo! i like this dress.” you gasped as he continued to kiss you, unwavered by your torn sleeve. you half wondered if you could sew it up, your thought being cut off when his teeth scraped against the top of your breast.

“i’ll buy you a new one doll.” you whined in response as he pulled the front of your dress down, cupping your breasts over your bra. you pushed at his chest, not even moving him but he moved back as you pulled the dress over your head. he quickly unclasped your bra and his kisses turned to bites, one hand kneading one breast as the other teased your nipple. his lips bit and sucked at each nipple, blowing air on it to make it even more sensitive. meanwhile you were bucking under his hold, begging for more, begging for him to touch you.

“please bradley, please,” your pleas were falling on dead ears as he sucked and pinned you down. you had to pull out the big guns. “please lieutenant bradshaw touch me.” his eyes snapped back to your face, his teeth dragging off your tender nipple.

“i’m touching you now.” his hands were circling your waist, keeping you in place. his tone was teasing, he knew what you needed but he wanted you to beg.

“please just fuck me.” and that’s all it took, bradley never was one for dragging things out. you both were already aching for each other. he lifted you up and instead of pushing you further up, he was lifting you clean off the bed, to stand. you legs wrapped around his waist and his hands lifted you up by the underside of your thighs. you looked at him to try and understand what he was doing until one hand left your thigh and you heard his fly unzip. he was gonna fuck you while standing, while supporting your entire weight. you were sure you had soaked through your underwear, bradley would know anyways since his member was freed and poking against your clothed entrance. bradley pushed your underwear to the side, it made you feel even filthier than you did now. bradley cursed under his breath, rubbing his head against you, collecting the slick there and coating his member with it. you whined and twitched as his tip caught against your clit. you’d start dripping on your hardwood floor if he didn’t fuck you already.

“ready baby?” you nodded enthusiastically with hooded eyes, one of your hands playing with his chain as he pushed the tip in. you gasped at the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you, you’d never get used to how fucking big he was. he stretched you wide and filled you all the way up. he slowly pushed in, letting you adjust like always. you pressed a kiss to his lips as you looked down with a slight nod for him to move.

maybe you shouldn’t have made your newfound affinity for his strength so blatant, because bradley lifted you up and plunged you back down so viciously you saw stars. his tip bruised your cervix and you swear you could feel the veins on his cock stamp your walls. you were clenching around him, the sounds of your slick pouring out of you and the slap of skin against skin filled the room making your head spin. bradley never let up his pace, his breathing growing shallow as he used like a sex toy. “fuck bradley, s-so deep.” you whined out, leaning your forehead against his. you felt his was wet with sweat and you clenched at the memory of him from earlier today. you watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his head and this time you caught it with your tongue. bradley lost any self control he was holding onto at that.

“you’re killing me baby.” his pace grew brutal, turning you into a babbling mess as he began thrusting up while still hammering you on his cock. you grabbed onto his hair, grabbed his arms his shoulders, dug your nails into his back and clawed, anything you could do to ground yourself. nothing stopped the earth-shattering pleasure from washing over you in waves. everything felt sensitive, your nipples erect as they ground against him from every thrust. you felt yourself close and you knew bradley was too, could feel him tensing up under you. with one final thrust, he came inside filling you past the brim, his cum mixed with yours leaking out the side. you came with him, twitching in his hold as he fucked you both through it, milking him for all he had. he never moved you off as he walked you both to bed, lying you down, spooning you from behind. the angle let him stay inside, not letting anything leak, just like you both liked.

“so the push-ups huh?” bradley whispered against the shell of your ear, pulling your underwear off finally and hugging you closer. his dick going even deeper.

“uh huh, you looked too damn good lieutenant.” at the mention of his rank, you felt his dick twitch and you couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. you both were insatiable. it wasn’t long before you were worked up again, bradley filling you up and proving just how strong he was all over again.

a/n: possibly my filthiest one-shot to date? that can easily be beaten but something about sweaty bradley bradshaw makes me FERAL…. i will not be taking questions ab it <3

#rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x oc #rooster bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun maverick #top gun maverick smut

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bradshawsweetheart · 1 year

Text

Baby Come Close | college!Bradley Bradshaw x virgin!Reader |

turn the lights down low, baby come close

put your trust in me, let this love be

SUMMARY: On the last night of spring break of junior year at UVA, you decided that this was the perfect time to lose your virginity to none other than Bradley Bradshaw. WORD COUNT: ~4.9k WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. this is just pure smut. barely a plot. p in v. corruption kink if you squint. praise kink if you squint more. fluff. swears. no use of y/n. A/N: this is my first time writing publicly, especially smut, in a very long time, and my first fic for TGM! I’m so nervous to post this, please be gentle :')

It was the last day of spring break, and the college town of Charlottesville, Virginia was a bit quieter than usual, due to most of its population being who knows where doing who knows what with their time off. Your parents were out of town in Boston, but you much rather would have spent time with Bradley at his apartment than go back to your empty childhood home anyway, exchanging pleasantries with former high school classmates who you would undoubtedly run into in public. You and Bradley, instead, decided that spring break would be much better spent in the privacy of his empty dwelling, partaking in day trips to Virginia Beach in his Bronco and a staycation of movie-watching-turned-heated-groping sessions… And maybe even more if you decided to finally take it there. What better time than tonight, before the first day of the final stretch of junior year at the University of Virginia?

“What did he say?” Bradley whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. Usually, the two of you would try to watch the movie until around the thirty-minute mark, and then one wandering hand or a lingering kiss later and it would be completely ignored. For you, however, tonight’s movie was long forgotten the moment he had turned it on.

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t hear him. Sorry…” You smiled at him sheepishly.

“You good, angel?” He cocked his eyebrow as he turned to face you. The warm amber of his irises bore into your face with adoration and slight concern. “You’re not thinking about breaking up with me, are you?” He feigned worry, clutching over his heart. You swatted his arm playfully with an eye roll.

“I’m just a little thirsty… Do you want anything from the kitchen?” You offered, feeling a little silly as he simultaneously took a swig from his bottle of beer. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Yeah, get me a glass of you.” He grinned, leaning down to catch your lips in his, stifling your giggle as you cringed with an exaggerated scoff at his cheesy remark. Bradley Bradshaw, dad joke supreme.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll decide to break up with you when I get back, Dadshaw.” You teased, pushing his curls from his forehead, earning you a perfect pout from his plump lips to which you gave a lingering kiss. There it was.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were growing restless with the over-the-clothes grope sessions that regularly took place the last few months. While they were exciting and enjoyable, there was a particular itch that you just couldn’t scratch, even on your own. Your thoughts would drift to him at night as you imagined what being with him would be like, and any time your unskilled fingers fumbled to bring an unfamiliar feeling to that place deep inside you, you would immediately withdraw your hand. The longer things continued on like this, the antsier you were getting and if Bradley was feeling the same way, you would have been none the wiser. He was aware of your predicament and he, ever the gentleman, always let you set the pace and never asked anything of you that you were not comfortable with. His mother raised him better than being any other way. “I promise I’m not some bible-thumping prude.” You would promise him from time to time during these exchanges. He never asked you for your reasoning, but he knew it was just a matter of trust. He would just simply smile and assure you there was no rush, that he would never pressure you to go further than you wanted.

In truth, however, the idea of being your first anything excited him. He felt a little guilty for having that thought in the first place but he couldn’t help it. Any time he tried to get any information from you about what you had done before, just out of sheer curiosity, you would quickly skirt around the subject and bring up anything else. He would never press you on the matter, but he could tell when you were hesitant and very intentional with your movements during impromptu make out sessions behind the bookshelves in the library during study breaks. But he also noticed when something changed inside of you: the time he pulled you into the office of the professor he was TA-ing for when they were out for a few days. When he decided to be spontaneous and clear the professor’s desk of clutter to push you onto the surface, you didn’t exasperatedly scold him or get flushed and embarrassed like you normally would. You simply continued on, pulling him into you, your kisses and touches… hungrier, but he continued to let you set the pace, and while it didn’t go much further, he could feel the desperation growing there with you. That was a week ago, right before midterms, and neither of you had talked about it since.

He tilted his head at you as you winked and sauntered away, making your way out of his room and down the hall toward the kitchen. After nervously gulping down half of the water in your glass in an attempt to slow your heart rate, you stepped into the bathroom off the side of the galley. You gripped either side of the sink as you bent over the counter to face yourself in the mirror, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. “You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Everyone has done it… Just not you,” you furrowed your brow at your failed pep talk. You had been in your head about this for a couple months, and especially all week as he made a habit of sweetly coaxing you into staying over every night of spring break with him to cuddle every time you would start gathering your belongings to leave. You worried that you wouldn’t be nearly as good as the other women Bradley had already been with, and you often wondered why he was even waiting around with you in the first place, especially when other girls on campus would throw themselves at him had they been given the chance. You had even brought this up to him a couple times before, how he was wasting formative college experience time with you, which was always met with, “Baby, I don’t want anyone else,” or, “Sex isn’t the only important thing in the world.” Sure, not the only thing, but surely still pretty important to someone like Bradley Bradshaw.

“No, you’re not backing out of it. Get it over with. Everything will only get easier from here on out.” You told your reflection definitively. You reached up under your skirt, hooking your panties with your thumbs before tugging them down your legs. You had hoped this bold of a move would spur you on to go through with this, either by your own actions or even by Bradley discovering you bare, as you knew he would often absentmindedly run his thumb against the underwear lines at your hip when he cuddled you. After giving yourself one last look-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom.

Bradley snapped his head up when you reentered his bedroom, giving you a cheeky grin. “Are you back to break up with me, angel?” He has no idea what he’s in for tonight, you thought, but then quickly humbled yourself by the fact that, well, neither did you.You sauntered over to turn off the television with the remote before tossing it away to his textbook-ridden desk. The sudden silence and the way he was looking at you was making you lose your nerve, so you walked over to his stereo to pop one of his CDs in the player, Smokey Robinson’s Smokey, pressing the repeat button and then skipping until the player display read the number 9. Baby Come Close started softly through the speakers, and you remembered the first time he had you listen to it with him.

“This right here… is lovemaking music,” he proclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at you, only half-joking. Your eyes widened as you playfully swatted his arm, causing him to bellow with laughter. “But make no mistake, it sounds so much better on vinyl.”

“Then why aren’t we listening to it on vinyl?” You teased, prodding his chest with your finger.

“The thought of keeping my collection here with me at school when I live with these idiots makes me shudder, honey. Get real.”

Bradley’s expression was puzzled as you crawled across the bed to straddle his lap, cupping his face and running your thumbs over his smooth skin. He beamed at you nonetheless. “What are you –” You cut him off by gently tilting his chin upward and placing a slow, sensual kiss on his lips. Your lips moved perfectly in sync as he sat up a little straighter, placing his hands on your hips. You shakily reached for one of his hands before setting your discarded lace panties in his palm. He pulled away to look at the delicate fabric and blinked a few times before slowly sliding his other hand under your skirt to grip your bare behind. He softly drew a circle on the skin there with his thumb. His touch felt like static and left goosebumps in its wake, making you shiver. It suddenly clicked in Bradley’s mind as he remembered what he told you about this song, it made his chest constrict. You nervously bit your lip as you watched him short circuit in real time. Bradley took pause as he met your eyes, full of both lust and uncertainty. “Are you saying…”

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like, how you feel, for a while,” you admitted softly, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Bradley swallowed hard, his heartbeat in his ears as he hung on every word you said. Your gaze shifted to focus on your hands as you nervously stated, “I don’t want to wait any longer, Bradley. I think I’m ready.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he hesitantly caught your lips again. He grinned into the kiss and pushed your shirt up slightly to rub his calloused thumbs along the soft skin of your waist. You sighed into his mouth as your lips parted, which Bradley took advantage of by sliding his tongue to massage against yours in your mouth.

“We’ll take it slow. I’ll take care of you,” He promised after a long moment with a heavy breath, slowly inching a hand further up your tee to palm your breast and pinching your nipple through your bra, enough for your breath to catch in your throat. “Is this okay?” His eyes snapped to yours expectantly, and he smiled softly when you nodded. Bradley pulled your shirt upward over your head and tossed the material to the floor. He took a moment to marvel at the lacey red bra that matched the underwear in his hand before attaching his lips to your neck and flinging your panties aside. You sighed, bringing your arms up loosely around the back of his neck to run your fingers through the curls at his nape. He raised a hand to cradle your jaw, his thumb gently nudging it to angle your chin to give him more access, and his other expertly sliding up your back to unhook your bra with ease. You sighed in relief as the restrictive material fell down your arms and tried to fight the bashful feeling that washed over you. You felt your face flush as you realized Bradley was the first person to see you this way, all hot and flushed on top of him. He blinked as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “Absolutely perfect, angel.”

You experimentally ground your hips down onto his and the friction of his denim jeans against your bare core made you whimper. You could feel his hard cock through the stiff material separating you, and you desperately wanted more. Your shaky hands fumbled with the button of his pants as you kissed down his jaw and along his neck, placing hot, lingering kisses on the somewhat-fresh scars that stretched across his skin. He chuckled softly, placing his hands over yours to steady them as he guided the button out of the loop.

“Relax, baby. We can take it nice and slow,” Bradley reassured you before lifting you from him to shimmy out of his jeans. But before you could touch him again, he wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you over, gently placing you underneath him. He rubbed your sides as he shifted his weight on top of you, pushing you into the plush of his mattress. He supported himself on his forearm as mouth latched onto your right nipple, his free hand massaging your other breast. You moaned softly, you felt him smile against your soft skin. Bradley’s tongue swirled around the bud, and he released it with a pop before moving to the left one. When you arched your back, instinctively pushing up against his mouth, he groaned, His hand wandered to your thighs, rubbing them each for a while before slipping between them when you opened them slightly. He nudged your thigh to open wider with his knee. “Am I going too fast?” He asked, stopping his mouth on your skin to look up at you. You shook your head with a nervous smile and he placed a kiss on your sternum. “Tell me what you like.”

“I — I don’t know.” He furrowed his eyebrows at this confession.

“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself,” He requested, and stopped his movements when you opened your mouth to speak… and then closed it. “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“I have! Well, kind of. I either got bored, or whenever I felt anything building I just… stopped.”

“So… You’ve never came before, even on your own?” He prodded delicately, and you sheepishly shook your head. Bradley suppressed the moan at the back of his throat. He wet his lips with his tongue. “Oh, honey. I can’t believe you’re this innocent,” he said more to himself than to you, which made you feel a bit self-conscious. He noticed you tense. “No, baby, no, that isn’t what I mean. You’ve just been so… I never would have guessed.”

“I would understand if you didn’t want to keep going.” You offered, shifting uncomfortably. Bradley’s expression turned incredulous as he rapidly shook his head.

“No way is that deterring me from you. How about we find out what feels good together, okay?” You nodded and let out a shaky breath as his middle finger slowly slid through your slick and ghosted over your clit. An unexpected sound squeaked from your chest and you flushed when he met your eyes. “Soaked already. Is this all for me?” He shot you a lopsided grin, and smirked when you whimpered and nodded. You bucked your hips against his hand, a silent plea for any type of friction, and he obliged by rubbing your bundle of nerves in slow circles. This felt so much beyond anything you could have possibly done on your own, the unanticipated movements of his touches. You felt like your body was on fire.

“Bradley,” you pleaded, your legs starting to scramble. He held your hips down with one hand and slid his middle finger into you with the other, wordlessly obliging, slowly pumping it a few times before curling it upward and hitting a spot that had you arching your back and letting out a sharp gasp. “Oh!”

“How’s that?” He asked smugly, chuckling slightly as you could do nothing but dumbly nod and blink up at him, not exactly answering his question but it was definitely an answer all the same. He watches you with an amused grin as he repeated the motion with his skilled digit, eliciting a strangled moan from somewhere deep in your sternum.

The rumors you always heard about him before you got together were true, he certainly had magic fingers. The sounds he was pulling for you made him thank the high heavens that he had ears, and that his roommates had left town for the week. He kissed down your stomach and your breath hitched as he continued down, down, down. Bradley raised his eyes to meet yours, immediately softening at your slightly panicked expression. “May I?”

“I… Yes.”

“If you don’t like it, we can move on,” He beamed his reassurance at you earnestly. “But I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel so good, baby.” He teasingly kissed along the outside of your thighs, chuckling when you squirmed, desperate for any kind of contact. Suddenly, feeling his hot breath against your core, he placed a slow, delicate kiss against you before spreading you with his fingers, then licking a thick stripe upward.

“Oh, my fucking –” Bradley attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking. You could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter. His tongue dipped down to your weeping hole, teasingly plunging into you every so often. You didn’t know what to do with your hands as they scrambled to find purchase in the sheets. He guided one of your hands to his hair, your other following suit, and when your fingers tangled into his tresses, he groaned at the tug.

“You taste so good, honey,” Bradley breathed, and his voice was so raspy and full of lust it caused you to buck your hips slightly against his mouth. The comment made your cheeks heat up, almost embarrassed. He hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the immense pleasure he was already giving you. He pulled his mouth away and brought up two digits two your wetness, slowly teasing your entrance, making you whimper pathetically. “I love the little sounds that you make when I’m teasing you.” It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. He pushed his fingers into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the slightly uncomfortable stretch, before curling upward against your walls and moving them into you at a steady pace. You felt that unfamiliar feeling start to rise in your stomach and your legs began to shake.

“Bradley – I can’t – I think I’m gonna –”

“Come for me, baby,” He growled against you, harshly sucking your clit as his fingers sped up a bit. You cried out in complete ecstasy as you came undone under him, tugging his face impossibly closer into your core. He rutted his hips into the mattress as he watched you, desperate for friction, and continued to work you through it. You would have felt embarrassed about the way you convulsed if you hadn’t heard through the cotton filling your head, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.” As you came down from your high, you hissed from the overstimulation as he kept at you. You pushed his head back involuntarily and he chuckled before kissing the inside of your thigh apologetically. You tried to take a moment to catch your breath as he continued to kiss your thighs and around your heat. “Was that alright?”

You heaved a laugh at the question, you felt him grinning against your belly. “Something like that,” you quipped, meeting his eyes. He looked so in love, just watching your already fucked out expression as you tried to find your way back down to Earth. You ran your fingers through his hair, he pressed his cheek into your thigh. “I want that all the time.”

“I am so, so happy to oblige.” He suggested, experimentally going back down to kitten lick at your soaked cunt. You giggled, shaking your head.

“I wanna touch you too,” you stated breathlessly. Bradley cocked an eyebrow at you as you sat up and pushed him to lay backward to sit between his knees, reattaching your lips to his collarbone and eagerly kissing down his chest and abdomen. He chuckled, bringing a hand up to gently hold your hair out of your face. His finger lovingly swept a circle over your cheek. You boldly and playfully licked a thick stripe up his torso, causing a strained groan to bubble from his throat, before returning nip down to the waistband of his boxers. Your sudden confidence had quickly dissipated as you looked up at him with wide eyes. This was the first time you’d seen him this way, in this position. Bradley was so beautiful. He had been hitting the gym pretty hard in preparation for his hopeful, second-round acceptance into flight school come graduation next year and it was definitely paying off, though you admit you still liked it when he was a bit softer in the middle. He gave you an encouraging grin as you began to pull the material downward, his cock sprung free and slapped up against his abdomen. You blinked, dumbfounded, as you took in the sight of him. “I…”

“You don’t have to do anything.” He stated firmly with a soft smile, bringing a hand to brush the hair from your face once more. You furrowed your brows and shook your head.

“Teach me?” You gazed at him expectantly. “Show me how to touch you. Teach me how to make you feel good, too.” Fuck. He nodded, swallowing hard. He took your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before guiding it down to secure gently around his length. He tightened his hand over yours slightly, signaling you to tighten your grip a little. Taking his cock in your hand, you hesitantly pumped it a few times before surprising the both of you by boldly licking the precum from his tip. It was surprisingly pleasant but maybe it was because a soft, strangled moan bubbled from Bradley’s lips, which was enough to make you squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to do everything you could to hear that sound again. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, humming in approval as you hesitantly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged but recovered smoothly as he guided you to bob your head. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on his length and pumped what you couldn’t fit with your hand, just like you saw in the videos you sometimes watched in preparation for this moment.

“Are you sure this is your first time?” Bradley chuckled and sighed as his head fell back against the headboard. You couldn’t keep the cocky grin off your face as you repeated your motions. You figured he was exaggerating your skill for your benefit, but you didn’t care. The sounds leaving him were deliciously filthy, reassuring you that you were doing all the right things. “That’s it baby, just like that. So fucking good for me,” His hand gripped a fistful of your hair as he thrusted his hips toward your face slightly. You gagged but recovered immediately, though you could feel your embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “Shit, sorry, is that okay?” You hummed in response, the vibrations adding to Bradley’s pleasure so much so that he huffed out a string of curses. You could feel your wetness begin to drip down the side of your thigh, and you were getting a little antsy.

“Bradley…” You whined as you pulled back for air. Your body stiffened as nerves consumed you once more. “I want… I need…”

“What do you need, honey?” He questioned gently, pulling you up to him to catch your lips. He expertly flipped you back onto your back, slotting his body between your legs. You could feel him over your heat, causing you to experimentally buck your hips upward to grind against him. “Tell me what you need.” Bradley hissed as you whimpered. He fumbled to pull a condom from the box of his bedside drawer, planting wet kisses on your outstretched arm on his way back to you.

“Please fuck me,” you requested boldly. The filthy words from your lips made him throw his head back with a groan. “Bradley, please.” He tore the foil packet open with his teeth and pumped himself a few times before rolling the condom down onto his length. He kissed up your neck back to your lips as he positioned himself at your entrance, running the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” He kissed you sweetly. You smiled at him with a hesitant nod. You figured you would feel a lot more embarrassed than you did, feeling pathetically naive and innocent to be experiencing this for the first time at your age, but he never put the thought that he felt that way in your mind. Bradley was never condescending, he never talked down to you or made you feel like something too pure or too delicate to touch. He slowly pushed his tip into you, causing your eyes to water and screw shut. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders and your body went rigid.

“Angel, I need you to relax your muscles. I don’t want it to hurt,” He bit back a moan as he continued to fill you once you relaxed. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” You stated firmly. It didn’t hurt as bad as you were told it would, it was more uncomfortable than anything. He waited for you to adjust to him, idly planting wet kisses over the length of your neck and collarbone as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Bradley cooed. “You’re taking me so well,” After several minutes, you shifted your hips slightly in attempts to ease the discomfort, and… Oh. You moaned slightly at the new electricity inducing feeling that coursed through your body. Bradley picked up his head to reattach his lips to yours and pulled his hips back slightly before slowly thrusting back into you. You gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. His dilated pupils fixated on your own as he found his rhythm, pushing deeper into you while increasing his pace. His sweet moans were music to your ears, and yours to his. You were a whimpering mess underneath him, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as he ran a hand down your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist. “You’re so tight.” A deep-seated groan emitted from the back of his throat as his thrusts became sloppy, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. He took one of your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and bringing them to rest on the mattress above your head.

“You feel so…” You moaned before your lips latched onto his neck. “Fuck.”

“I love listening to you,” He admitted blissfully. “I never could have imagined the sweet noises you make.” You whimpered at his words. He hastily snaked a hand down between the two of you and started rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. The added sensation with him thrusting into your dripping core at a dizzying pace, repeatedly hitting just the right spot, was almost too much but so perfect. His praises kept stoking that building fire in the pit of your belly, and watching him watch you sent you over the edge once more. Your vision went white as a string of curses fell from your mouth. Your legs began to shake and the rest of your body stiffened.

“Bradley, oh my – fuck!”

“That’s it, good girl,” He groaned at the sight of you writhing underneath him. He sucked a mark into your collarbone to contain the melodies escaping him. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” Bradley rasped as he buried his face further into your neck. You brought up your other leg to tighten them both around him, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts as he came undone on top of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You had never seen such a beautiful sight, watching the muscles of his bicep contract as he held himself over you while he fell apart. He lazily peppered your neck with hot kisses, sucking marks into your skin, and after a few moments, he begrudgingly lifted himself off you with a huge grin plastered on his face. He would have stayed there forever if you let him. “How are you? Was that okay?” You giggled at his concern, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It was perfect,” you hummed in contentment. Definitely worth the wait, and now I know what I’ve been missing. Bradley’s phone began to ring, and when he lifted it to check the caller I.D., his smile faltered for a split second.

Mav

He hastily declined the call. Maverick was continuing to not get the hint of months’ worth of rejected calls and Bradley refused to let him ruin another perfect moment in his life right now.

“Who’s calling so late?” You joked. Fucking Maverick on his fucking Pacific Standard Time.

“Telemarketer, probably,” Bradley lied, cupping your face and kissing your lips sweetly. “What do you say we just skip the first day back tomorrow and stay in bed all day instead?” His grin was anything but angelic, borderline shit-eating, as he began to kiss his way down your neck to your chest. You erupted into giggles, pretending to push him away.

“Bradley!”

Baby Come Close was still thrumming through the speakers on repeat as you held each other, and neither of you were in any rush to end the perfect night. You both desperately wished that you could have stayed here forever.

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simpforrooster · 1 year

Text

a very important meeting.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: you're on your way to your office when you get stuck in the elevator with the most annoying naval aviator.

t/w: cursing, some sensual material ahead, getting stuck in elevators

The elevator doors open, revealing a fighter pilot inside. Your stomach drops to your feet as you take in your worst nightmare. For a split second, you consider turning around and hiking it up 8 flights of stairs, but resign and join the pilot.

He watches you settle into the opposite corner from him. You pull out your phone, deciding to ignore him during the quick ride up to your office.

Bradley Bradshaw clearly has other ideas. “Hey, y/n,” he taunts.

“Hi, Chicken,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“It’s Rooster,” he corrects, those brown eyes staring a hole through the side of your head.

“It’s cute that you think I care,” you tell him, sliding your phone into your work bag. The elevator numbers climb up past two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

The sound of the elevator stopping between floors sends a new kind of dread through your body. The elevator lurches, throwing you into Bradshaw. His strong arms wrap around your waist, steadying you. You don’t miss the way he keeps them on you a second longer than he should.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” he asks, his voice low.

“Other than the fact that this is my worst nightmare, nope.”

Rooster grins.

“You’re insufferable,” you tell him, pushing him away from you. He answers you with his annoying laugh that you secretly love.

Rooster reaches around you and presses the emergency button. Never taking his eyes off you, he tells the attendant about the mishap. Fear overtakes you as she tells Rooster it may be a few hours until they can get the elevator working again.

“Guess we better get comfortable,” Rooster says. He slides down to the ground and pats the spot next to him.

“You don’t have to pretend to like me right now, Bradley,” you say, sitting opposite of him. “This is torture enough.”

A strange look passes over his face.

The two of you barely tolerate one another, and it’s been this way for years. You can’t pinpoint exactly what caused the tension between the two of you. You also can’t pinpoint exactly when that animosity turned more toward flirting. Or when you looked at Rooster one day and decided that he was probably the most handsome man in the Navy.

“You’re nervous,” he murmurs.

“I'm stuck in an elevator with you, of course I’m nervous. What if I hurt you?” you say, trying to lighten the mood. This makes his lip pull up in the corner.

Rooster stands, coming over to where you’re sitting. “Well, I’m nervous for a whole other reason. What if I kiss you?” He takes his hand in yours and pulls you up.

“You don’t mean that,” you whisper.

“Oh come on, y/n. I flirt with you all the time.” Rooster takes a small step toward you.

“No, you argue with me all the time.”

He takes another small step, and your back hits the wall. “Riling you up is my favorite pastime. You’re so hot when you’re mad.”

Did he just call you hot?

“Don’t get my hopes up, Roos.” From this angle, it’s hard to ignore the height difference between the two of you.

“Ah, so you admit all this between us has been flirting?” he smirks, bracing himself against the wall, his large hand just on the outside of your head. His other hand slides around your waist.

“I don’t know what to call it,” you whisper.

“You can call it me wanting you,” he says. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

You don’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. He can’t mean them, can he? It must be the stuck-in-an-elevator-with-nothing-else-to-do talking. Those brown eyes seem to stare straight into your soul. There is nothing you want more than for him to kiss you right now. This man you’ve seemingly hated.

But you know he’s right, all that hatred was actually flirtation.

You’ve never seen him out with another woman. He’s never taken one home from the bar. Hell, you’re pretty sure you’ve watched him toss a phone number the second the girl turned away from him.

At this realization, you can’t remember the last time you flirted with anyone who wasn’t the man in front of you.

Hangman doesn’t count, he’s the resident playboy. It’s not your fault if you flirt back.

Bradley leans in a little closer, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he finds none, he leans in juuuust a little more.

“Just tell me to stop,” he cautions.

You absolutely don’t want him to. Craning your face up to take him in, he takes this as full-steam-ahead.

As he crushes his mouth to yours, you would have been a fool to stop him. You’ve never kissed anyone like this. Kisses of urgency, longing, and honestly, breathtaking. It’s as if every other man you kissed was only practice. Bradley must feel the same way because you cannot mistake the groan that just fell from his lips. The sound buzzing against yours deliciously.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs in your ear. Bradley presses his body into yours, tightly tucking you in between him and the elevator wall. His erection presses into your lower half, and if his bedroom performance is anything like his kisses…

Your hands slither up his chest to grip his t-shirt. He smirks against your lips before changing direction and claiming your neck.

“You taste every bit as sweet as I thought you would,” he says. “My fantasies don’t even come close.”

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can grab it, letting him know just what his words are doing to you. He chuckles against your neck, that mustache of his feeling exactly as you thought it would.

He’s not the only one with fantasies. Bradley’s hands reach for the top of your jeans, pulling you to attention.

“Bradley, there are cameras in here,” you say. There’s no way you’re having sex with Bradley for the first time in an elevator. He just ignores you, pulling your mouth back to his, offering you hungry kisses.

“You’ve never called me that before.” He pulls back just enough for the words to leave his mouth, and then he’s back to his ministrations. “I do not care.”

“I do, my dad probably has access to them,” you say, killing that erection immediately at the mention of your admiral father.

“Fuck,” Bradley concedes, dropping his arms from around you. He puts as much distance between the two of you as he can, his eyes promising more to come once this elevator is fixed.

Rooster punches the emergency button again.

“Sir, the crew is working as hard as they can to get the elevator operational.”

“Let them know the admiral’s daughter is also stuck in here, and she has a very important meeting to make,” he responds, never taking his eyes off of you. Bradley drops his left eye in a flirty wink, that smirk on his face as equally delicious.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x oc #rooster smut #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Text

Thick Thighs Save Lives - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Summary: Being the only aviator with meat on your bones is tough. It's even more tough when you're stuck showering with two of your teammates.

Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), double penetration, fingering (vaginal and anal, f receiving), oral (m receiving), dirty talk, shower sex, protected sex, spit kink, body insecurities, mid/plus!sized reader, self-deprecation, arguing, angst with a fluffy/smutty ending

WC: 5.5K / navi

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

If there’s anything you don’t want to hear during a not-so-friendly game of beach football, it’s ‘shit!’. The exclamation comes from Coyote who’s branched off to your towels on the sand, fingers curled around his watch, “We’re late.”

“How late?” Phoenix is already adjusting her ponytail, as it’s frazzled from the action. She’s squinting in the sun and remedies it by knocking her sunglasses down off of her head and onto her nose. It’s smooth, and she knows it by the soft smirk that curls at her lips.

“We have twenty minutes to get on the road.”

“Shit,” Rooster parrots, dropping the ball where he stands, which is how you know he’s panicked too, “We all need showers. Penny’s gonna kill us if we stink up the restaurant.”

“We can go in teams,” Fanboy decides, already sprinting over to his towel, “We don’t have time for individual ones.”

Before you can get a word in edgewise Coyote and Phoenix are rushing to join him, Bob hot on their trail. The showers are spacious, sure, but you wouldn’t exactly volunteer to share them with anyone.

With a terrible sinking feeling in your stomach you realize that the only three left are you, Rooster, and Hangman. That means the only way you’ll get to Penny and Maverick’s engagement party is if you shower together.

They’re already at their towels, scrubbing sand out of their hair and strapping their watches back on. Hangman’s is a thick, black leather band, and you can see flecks of sand marring the sleek strap from where it laid on the towel. Rooster’s is thinner, brown in color and gold around the rim. His is clean, but he puts it on his sweaty, sandy wrist. It won’t be for long.

Both men are shirtless, too-tight jean shorts squeezing their waists. You make a point not to stare as you trek back to your towel, already picking up on their competitive banter before you’ve even stood beside them.

“-probably use all my shampoo,” Hangman scoffs, clenching his towel tight in his fist, “You always steal my shit, Bradshaw.”

“I think it’s only fair seeing as you steal my gel!” Rooster quips back, gesturing to Hangman’s stiff, shiny hair, untouched even after your game, “Isn’t it fucking weird, Y/L/N? How much he uses?”

Rooster looks back at you for confirmation, someone on his side. But you’re too disheartened to respond, dreading your impending doom. All you offer is a meager, “Yeah.”, that curls a frown under Rooster’s mustache.

“You hurt yourself or something?” Hangman raises an eyebrow, stunned by your lack of teasing, “I think we need to call the doctor, you didn’t just insult me.”

“I’m fine.” You grumble, towel held around your waist despite the presence of your rash guard, “Just tired from football.”

“Well get ready,” Rooster warns you, “Mav’s gonna have to tell us all about how he and Penny met, and I’m really hoping he withholds the details on the little rendezvous that got him in trouble with her dad, but I know he won’t.”

You shudder for a moment, if only to please him, to throw him off your scent. You’re tired, there’s not any other reason you’re in a funk. You’re tired.

You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.

“Hey,” Hangman’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, admittedly less grating and irritating than it normally is “You sure you’re okay?”

You blink and they’re staring at you, brows furrowed and limbs frozen in place. You wish that the waves lapping gently at the sand would crash onto shore and swallow you whole, sweep you up in a tidal wave of salt water and seaweed so that you wouldn’t have to answer.

“I’m fine,” You grit, slipping your feet into your shoes and rushing to stand outside the showers, “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

You had hoped that they’d get too busy bickering with each other to ever find you. But here they come, not five minutes later, just as Phoenix steps out of the steamy bathroom. A towel is wrapped around her torso and Hangman exaggerates his ogling of her, only turning your stomach further.

“Perfect timing,” He drawls, and she rolls her eyes.

Bob steps out next, taking one look at her face and stepping in front of her, “Your turn, Bagman. Try not to use all the gel.”

“See?” Rooster nudges you, his elbow against your arm as Bob and Phoenix walk away, “I told you! It’s absurd, he slathers it on like cement.”

“He’s gotta,” Coyote drawls, reaching over to knock on Jake’s head, “Otherwise his head’d sound as empty as it is.”

The two engage in a good-natured shoving match, but it’s one that nearly sends Coyote’s towel cascading to the ground, and you keep your eyes firmly on the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner that you’d brought. You read over the ingredients, as if sodium laureth sulfate and glycol distearate will keep your mind off of your humiliation.

“You said you’re fine,” Bradley murmurs from beside you, “But if it’s something you just don’t wanna say around Hangman, he’s not listening.”

Part of you is less embarrassed to be honest and exposed to Rooster than Hangman. But he’s still a man, an incredibly fit one at that, and you’re not sure you’d ever want to reveal it to either of them.

“I’m just nervous,” You tell him the only part of the truth you’re willing to admit. I’ve never... showered with a- a boy before. A man.”

You cringe at your misstep, but if Bradley’s amused by it, he doesn’t show it. Instead he hums, sympathetically so, “We’ll turn around, honey. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“You’ll turn around,” You mutter, “I think it’ll just egg Jake on further.”

“What’s this I hear about eggin’ me on?” A familiar southern twang makes you tense as the man it’s coming from appears by your side, bumping his hip into yours, “You ready for our steam session, sweets?”

“Leave her alone, Hangman,” Rooster groans, feet slapping against the tiles as he goes to adjust the water. He shoves at Hangman’s back as he passes, and you stifle a giggle as the man nearly falls over.

“Hey, she’s the one that chose to shower with us,” Jake insists, and Bradley’s scoff is enough for you not to fight back, “And I would, too, if I were you, darlin’. Do you know how many ladies are lined up to see how hung Hangman is?”

You force a gag, “The only lady I see here is myself, and I’d rather smear wet sand in my eyes.”

“That’s what I’m gonna do to you if you don’t turn around and shut up,” Bradley speaks through the roar of the shower water, steam already rising from its fall, “Just drop your pants and wash your ass, so Y/L/N can shower to herself.”

“Well, well, well,” Jake smirks, towel cinched around his waist in only one hand as he stalks for the showers, “Looks like one of the ladies lined up is Bradshaw himself. Wanna see it, Rooster? Here it is.”

Jake drops his towel ceremoniously, and Bradley’s face morphs into a grimace as he turns away hastily.

“My fucking eyes,” He laments, and you pause in gathering your toilettries to laugh, while also trying very hard not to stare at Jake, “Oh my god, Y/N, you won’t have to worry about me seeing you. I’m going to pour shampoo into my eyes until I go blind.”

Jake realizes you’re taking a little too long getting ready, cocking a hip as he leans his head back to stare down his nose at you, “So what, you gonna ditch dinner, Y/L/N? Whatcha waitin’ for?”

“She’s waiting for you to stop being a perv and turn around,” Bradley comes to your rescue once again, and thankfully, Jake seems to realize it’s a real issue, pivoting until he’s facing the shower wall.

“I think she just wants a nice view of our asses,” Jake theorizes, standing with his clear on display, “Which is better, Y/N? Mine or Chicken’s?”

“Chicken,” Rooster grumbles under his breath, and if you were brave enough to actually declare a winner, you’d give it to him just for that. But, Hangman’s form is rather impressive, all tight curves and tan skin and-

And you shouldn’t be looking. You clear your throat awkwardly, peeling off your rash guard as Jake sponges his side down. There’s sand running thick down the drain and you hope it doesn’t back up, something you’d feel terrible for Penny to have to clean up.

“Uh,” Bradley stills in his place, “Shit, I think I left my shampoo over there. Y/N, could you…?”

“I got it,” You hum, reaching over for the blue bottle and tucking it in his carefully, blindly outstretched hand, “Thanks for, um- here.”

“Yep,” He nods, smearing a dot of the substance on his palm and lathering it through his hair.

“Oh no,” Jake mimics Bradley’s previous predicament, dropping the bottle in his hand so that it rests between his legs, “Y/N, could you-”

“Ass,” You drawl, reaching forwards to butt your palm against his back. He stumbles forward with a laugh, catching himself on the railing. He bends down to reach for it and you’re nervous he’ll peek at your body from between his legs, but he stays respectful, something you know he is at his core even if he pretends differently.

You find yourself relaxing against the tiled floor of the shower, feet firmly planted instead of poised to run. As much as you know neither of the men in front of you would make any rude comments about your body or your weight, there’s still the nauseating fear that they might think differently of you having seen you completely unobscured. So you’re thankful for the privacy, that lasts… well, until it doesn’t.

The snap of your conditioner cap catches the skin of your pointed finger in its jaws and a gasp clutches tight at your lungs.

“Son of a bitch!” You cry, waves of pain flowing through your finger and out towards the rest of them. On cue each man turns, eyes wide and fear-stricken, without thinking.

You know they didn’t do it on purpose. You know they instinctively thought you were hurt, and wanted to help. You know they didn’t mean to look at you. But the withering feeling in your guts knows no logic, only fear.

They’re looking, it hisses, They’re looking at everything. The way your stomach pudges into a roll at the base. The way your breasts sag. The way your thighs stretch, marks littering their stems, and present no gap.

“You’re bleeding.” Bradley observes, eyes trained faithfully on your finger, “I’ll get a bandaid.”

He rushes for the cabinets outside the shower, dripping water over the floor. Jake stands, staring, but you’re too humiliated to glance at his face and notice the soft pinky blush on his cheeks that’s spreading to his ears.

“Here,” Bradley speaks from behind you, though he molds himself to your side when you’re still frozen in fear. He brushes a towel over your cut, the turquoise material staining red. He then undoes the waxy paper wrapping from the bandaid, sticking it tight to your skin.

“It’ll get wet,” He reminds you, “But it’ll stop soap from stinging it.”

You don’t even thank him. At your prolonged silence he glances up at Hangman, intent on giving him a concerned glance, but he sees the man’s eyes rove over your form and snaps.

“Dude,” Bradley utters gruffly, “Don’t be a perv. Come on, turn around.”

When Jake stays just as still as you, he reaches for him, shoving hard, “I said turn around!:

“Please, Jake,” You whimper, tears brimming in your eyes, “Turn around.”

“You’re crying.” Jake snaps out of his trance to frown up at you, and Bradley keeps pushing, an insistent thorn in his side, “Why are you crying?”

“Because you’re-!” You gush, lip wobbling, “You’re looking at me, and- and judging me, and-”

“Judging you,” He scoffs, eyes nearly bugging out of his head, “Best body I’ve ever seen. Case closed. Court dismissed.”

“Shut up,” You seethe, tears finally dripping down your cheeks, “Just shut up! You think this is fucking funny? You don’t think there’s a reason I didn’t want to shower with you?”

“You’re private, I get that.” He scoffs. “But if you think I’m judgin’ any part’a that, then you’re stupid, too.”

“Not the compliment you think it is,” Bradley mutters, hands still prying at Jake’s shoulder, “She told you to turn around, just do it.”

“No,” Jake doubles down, pushing Bradley away and stalking towards you, “I wanna know why you think so goddamn low of me. You really think I’d rope a woman into a shower and then pick apart what she looks like? You think that low of me?”

“It’s not about you,” You gush, hands at your sides in frustration, “It's about me! And my fucking body, okay? I’m not calling you a dick for judging me, I’m calling myself-”

“What?” Jake’s head tilts to the side, eyes glinting dangerously, “What are you calling yourself?”

“....Gross.” You finish lamely, the fire in your chest extinguishing with the poof of a sigh that escapes your lips.

He’s grabbing your hand without thinking about it, gentle but firm. You stare at him, anxiety-riddled.

“Listen here, girly. I’ve let you get away with sayin’ a lotta things about yourself. Dumbass I agree with, especially considering these circumstances. I’ve heard clumsy and stubborn, those I don’t have an issue with either. But don’t look me in my fuckin’ face and tell me you’re gross, ‘cause it’s an insult to me and my tastes.”

He squeezes your hand once before releasing it, and it feels more now like a heartfelt gesture than a threatening one. You’re breathing heavy, lungs cut short from the adrenaline of the moment, Even though Bradley isn’t pushing him anymore, standing on the sidelines waiting, watching, Hangman turns around without another word. He scrubs aggressively through his scalp and you’re almost surprised nothing bleeds, your mouth hung slightly open and your tongue leaden over your teeth.

“I’m not your type.” You finally manage to mutter, voice taut.

“Yes you are,” Jake scoffs, “How would you know?”

“I saw you eyeing up Phoenix earlier.” You roll your eyes, and if Bradley hadn’t turned around again you’d have flashed him an exasperated look.

“So? A man can like several shapes,” Jake boasts, voice losing venom, “Plus I ogle Phoenix just to piss her off.”

“It works.” Bradley cuts in, and you snort.

“Point is,” Jake drawls, and you’re sure if Bradley was in his line of sight he’d have been the victim of a very withering stare, “Don’t discredit yourself. You’ve got sexy ass thighs, woman.”

“Jesus, Jake,” Bradley sighs, “Can you just hurry up, already? I’m sure there’s nothing more Y/L/N wants than to get rid of you.”

“Oh, shut up, lapdog,” Jake deadpans, “You can’t tell me you don’t agree.”

Bradley’s silent for a moment, and your gut churns.

“Whether I do or don’t is irrelevant,” He chooses his words carefully, “Let’s just leave Y/N alone.”

“He totally does,” Jake snickers, “Hear that, Y/L/N? It’s his blush.”

“Like you weren’t blushing!” Bradley scoffs, “I looked up at you and thought you’d been temporarily replaced with a baboon’s ass.”

“Oh, that’s funny,” Jake drawls, “That’s what I think every time I see you, porn stache. Then I remember it’s just your natural charm.”

The crisis has been averted enough for you to let out a shaky laugh at their insults, and the sound catches both men’s attention.

“Listen, Y/L/N,” Jake starts, voice much kinder and softer now, “The point of this isn’t me telling Bradshaw he’s got the face of an ass. The point is to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull; you’re pretty damn sexy, y’hear?”

You snort at his callous nature, “No one’s ever told me anything like that before.”

“Yeah?’ He pauses,towel in hand that he nimbly swings over his shoulder, “Well, pardon me for lookin’, and even more for touchin’, but everyone else is fuckin’ insane.”

Before you can process his words he reaches down to palm at your thigh, a hefty squeeze that sends your flesh spilling against his palm. You stiffen, even though he stays politely away from your ass, encroaching only on territory he could also grab while you’re clothed. The feeling of his touch, no matter how chaste, elicits a noise from your throat that you wish you could pass off for a scream.

It’s not.

It’s a moan.

He stops where he’d begun pulling away, eyes sharpening slightly. You don’t dare look at Bradley, but if you did, you’d see his cock twitch.

“Did I hurt you?” Jake asks, voice low.

All you can do is shake your head, teeth digging into your lower lip helplessly.

“Did you like it?” He tries again, but this time he doesn’t accept body language as an answer/ Still hunched, he ignores your nodding and reaches up with his free hand to tug your bottom lip out from under your teeth.

“I asked you a question,” Jake croons, voice smooth and soft, “Did you like it?”

All you can whimper is a meager ‘Yes’.

Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes.” Stronger, this time.

His hand plants itself firmly back over your thigh, thumb stretching towards the curve of your ass this time. It’s a little more suggestive, and a lot more alluring.

“Jesus,” Jake groans, kneading the soft flesh of your doughy thigh between his fingers, “Bradshaw, c’mere for a second.”

He hesitates, “Do you want me there, Y/N?”

“Yes,” You nod once more, legs stiffening and thigh tensing against Jake’s palm, “I- I do.”

“You take front,” Jake instructs, falling into place behind you with his hands now greedily prying at your ass, “And I’ll take back.”

The smile that Bradley offers you when he steps in front of you is nothing short of dreamy. It’s enough to make you blush, and he lets out a soft, breathy laugh at how forward Hangman is being while he stands giddily in front of you.

“If you say hi,” Jake drawls, hooking his chin over your shoulder and reaching around your front to grip at the seams of your inner thighs while glaring at Bradley suspiciously, “I’m going to slap you.”

“I wasn’t going to say hi,” Bradley scoffs, and you can tell by his blush that he totally was.

“Jesus, enough yammering,” Jake scoffs, turning his head to press his dewy lips into your neck, “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”

You worry, for a moment, that he’ll let go. That he’ll walk away, get dressed for the restaurant, and pretend nothing ever happened. But that’s not what he does, of course. Instead, you feel the hard press of his cock against your ass.

“I’ll be gentle,” Jake croons, feeling you tense as his hands smooth over the dip of your ass, “We’ll go slow, okay?”

“Real slow,” Bradley murmurs, and it catches your attention, reeling it back to him. You realize he’s standing much closer to you now than he had been before, lips nearly brushing yours.

The second your lips meet his in a kiss, Hangman smooths his hand between the globes of your ass. You squirm at the sensitive feeling, foreign as his fingertip brushes against your hole. But he doesn’t let up, and neither does Bradley.

Rooster’s tongue slides against your bottom lip, warm and wet. At the same time Hangman’s hands squeeze your ass, pulling apart each side and smoothing down the skin between. It sends a shiver up your spine that escapes in a puff of air between your lips, one that Bradley eagerly swallows.

Bradley’s hands grab your cheeks, thumbs brushing near your eyes and yanking you closer. You can feel Jake’s fingers carefully prodding and pressing at the tight ring of your asshole, a hitch in your breath causing you to bite down on Bradley’s lip.

“Fuck,” He hisses, coming away with a red lip and a guttural groan, “Jake, just- let up. Me first, she’s obviously sensitive.”

“She’s just tight,” Jake murmurs, lips pressing to the expanse of your shoulder, “Nothin’ I can’t fix.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to fix it,” Bradley grumbles, tearing a condom open with his teeth that he’d snagged from his wallet, “‘Cause I’m going in first, and you- shit!”

His fingers, slippery from the water and probably excess soap, drop the condom. The way that you’re arched into Hangman’s touch means that your thighs are squeezed together and bent slightly, and there’s no better way to catch a condom than between your thighs.

The foil wrapper sticks between your legs, making it easy for Bradley to pluck it out and toss the wrapper aside. Penny will find it tomorrow, because you’re sure as hell not gonna remember to get it.

“Well, whaddya know,” Jake drawls, grinning against the skin of your neck so hard you can feel it, “What they say is true. Thick thighs save lives.”

You face-plant into the water-dropped skin of Bradley’s neck, ignoring the way Hangman snickers.

“Actually, I think they just stopped a life from being conceived,” Bradley reasons, only a few sloppy strokes of his cock needed to easily slip the condom on, “But that probably saved my life, ‘cause if I got you pregnant in Penny’s bathroom, she’d slit my throat.”

The tip of Bradley’s hardened dick presses to your inner thigh, skin seldom touched and sensitive. You lean into it, but Hangman’s fingers follow, gently stroking over the rim of your ass. It’s starting to feel less foreign and more pleasurable, a twinge of something sweet licking at the underside of your belly like a rogue flame.

Bradley gently presses two fingers against your slit, ever-considerate in making sure you’re sufficiently prepped, but his eyes widen at how much slick he’s greeted with just past your folds.

“Holy shit,” He breathes, nose nudging yours as his lips brush with your own, “You’re wet.”

“Duh,” Hangman scoffs, and one of his hands abandons your ass to slip between your folds, collecting slick on their tips and dragging it back to your ass, “I’ve been touchin’ up on her for a while now.”

“Pardon me for thinking that’d work like an umbrella on a rainy day,” Bradley bitches, but you cut him off with a kiss before he can spout any other mildly insulting metaphors for how bad he thinks Hangman is in bed. You’ll vouch if you have to, he knows what he’s doing.

With each slow circle that his fingers trace around your rim, you bend back into him. Until you can feel his cock pressed stiff to your backside,just as Bradley presses his tip flush with your clit.

“Oh-,” You gasp, clit sending a shockwave of electric lust reverberating throughout your body, “Bradley, I- Inside, please, now!”

“I’m coming, sweetheart,” He croons, speaking in a velvety soft hum against your lips, “Don’t worry.”

He holds to his promise, sliding his dick down from where it’s pressed to your clit and easing it between your folds. You heave a blissful sigh at the feeling of being full, and it makes you rock backwards into Hangman’s fingers.

One breaches your hole, slipping inside with an agonizingly pleasurable burn. The stretch feels heavenly, especially because your cunt is already stretched to accommodate Bradley’s cock that slowly bottoms out inside of you.

“Good,” Jake praises, kissing beneath your ear, “I knew you could do it.”

Rooster lets out a groan at the feeling of your involuntary clench around him, eyes screwed shut. His forehead is braced against yours and you take the liberty of engaging him in another kiss, letting the pleasure of Jake’s fingers at your hole compel you to lick into Bradley’s mouth.

Being pleasured from both sides is too overwhelming. You feel yourself already rising to a climax, pressed on by both Bradley’s thick cock grating against your insides and Jake’s fingers.

You smooth your tongue over Bradley’s, gripping his shoulder when he increases his pace to be steadily fast. He’s not speeding through anything, but he’s not slow either, and it makes your insides burn.

The feeling of his cock ramming over and over and over against that spongy spot deep within you is too much, especially when Hangman slides a single, thick finger into your ass. You can’t help it, your orgasm hits you like a freight train (or perhaps a fighter jet), and you clench sporadically around Bradley’s thick, hard cock.

You whine relentlessly into his mouth, fingers clawing and prying at his damp skin as your knees go weak. You’re surprised you stay standing at all, but you funnel all of your orgasmic vigor into the kiss that Bradley eagerly licks out of you, and clutching his shoulders is enough.

Coming down from your high is jarring, especially when you realize that the steady pressure against your clit had been Bradley’s thumb the entire time. The pleasurable sensation is starting to sour with the unpleasant sting of overstimulation, and you tear his hand away eagerly, “Too much.”

“Sorry,” Bradley grunts into the kiss, the bristles of his mustache grating at your lip.

Bradley pulls out of you, still hard and red-tipped.

Jake takes one look down, his free hand sliding up your back while his other stays firm at your ass, “Those were pretty sounds. Look’t what they did to Bradshaw. See that, honey?”

You nod, breathless as you stare at Bradley’s impressive length.

“I think you should return the favor,” Jake muses, putting pressure against your back so that you bend in half, “Suck him off, darlin’.”

You land at eye-level with Bradley’s covered cock, and you can’t get the condom off fast enough. You drag your tongue along the underside of Bradley’s hard dick, taking the heated length into your hands and squeezing fondly at his balls. He swears low and gruff under his breath, watching your tongue snake against his slit.

Your lips curl around the head of Bradley’s cock, and the way that Jake adds a second finger to your ass makes you suck hard. You feel Bradley’s cock twitch on your tongue, and you scrape your teeth feather-light along him as you take more of him into your mouth.

He tries to keep himself still, tries not to face-fuck you, but he’s hopeless. His hips jolt forwards and you gag at the feeling of his dick hitting the back of your throat. It makes him groan, fists clenched at his side.

You bob and suckle along every inch of Bradley’s dick, licking up the vein that runs along the side and hollowing your cheeks while Jake fingers you open. When there are suddenly no fingers in your ass anymore at all, you whimper, taking Bradley’s cockhead into your fist while you try craning your neck to look back at Hangman.

“Keep going,” Jake directs you, nodding his head towards your fist, “He’s not done, and neither am I.”

You slip the hand that’s curled around Rooster’s dick and slide it up his length, rubbing gently at the base while you kitten lick the head. He pants and groans, bucking into your fist and subsequently your throat. The feeling of Jake’s dick pressed tight to your stretched hole makes you jolt forwards, and you face-fuck yourself on Bradley’s dick.

“Jesus,” He hisses, “You’re- you’re good at this, baby. C’mon, a- a little more, now.”

You let out a scream muffled by Bradley’s cock as Jake slides himself into your ass, dick grating delightfully tight against your rim. Once he bottoms out he sets a merciless pace, giving you no time to adjust before you’re being hammered into like he’s a feral animal.

“See that, Bradshaw?” Jake boasts, sending a hefty slap to your ass, “Told you she could do it. Perfect ass.”

“I see,” Bradley pants, hands tangled in your hair while you bob on his cock, “I- I’m gonna cum, honey.”

There’s barely any warning before the sight of Jake’s cock ramming into your ass gets to be too much for Bradley, but you don’t need it. You’re perfectly content to welcome his warm seed down your throat, letting it paint the inside of your mouth as you tongue him dry.

You don’t realize you’re using Bradley’s cock as a pacifier until he pushes at your forehead, hissing in oversensitivity, “Okay, okay! It’s too much,” He soothes you by sticking two of his slick-stained, thick fingers between your lips instead, “Here, honey. There y’go.”

Drool gathers at the seam of your lips and Bradley smears it away from your mouth, gathering it on his palm and licking it away. He groans at the taste, his own seed permeating your saliva, “Messy girl.”

Jake isn’t satisfied with his lack of action. Apparently, jackhammering into your ass isn’t quite enough for the guy, and he fists a hand in your hair to yank you upright with a grunt.

Bradley’s fingers slip from your lips with a pop and you cry out as Hangman manhandles you, pleasurable pain flooding your senses from the hair-pulling that start waves of a second orgasm swelling below your belly.

“Open,” Jake commands, keeping your neck bent backwards so that his face hovers over yours. You open your mouth without hesitation, and he spits inside.

Warm saliva, cooling quickly the more you stick your tongue out, pools by your throat. You eagerly swallow without being told,drool now seeping backwards down your face and towards your eyes. Jake licks it off with a broad, wet swipe of his tongue, and smears it against your lips.

The kiss is messy, upside-down and drooly, but it’s hot. Jake’s tongue licks against yours and his teeth nip at your bottom lip, a real spider-man style porno.

Your spine aches from being bent like a curly-q, but the ecstasy bleeding into your core is enough to push it to the back of your mind. You reach down to finger your clit, a whimper bleeding into Jake’s mouth at the action.

“Gonna cum, honey?” Jake drawls, “Sweet pussy’a yours gonna clench around nothin’?”

His southern drawl is stronger when he’s fucking, you note. It’s attractive.

“Not nothing,” Bradley volunteers, sticking his spit-soaked fingers up into your gaping cunt, “Cum, baby.”

You’re very good at following orders.

Your second orgasm hurts, in the best way. It tears you apart from the inside out, cunt clenching tight at Bradley’s fingers as he curls them inside of you. Jake bites hard at your lip as you ride out your second orgasm, and his dick twitches inside of you once, twice, three times before he’s letting himself go in tandem.

He fills you with warm cum, the substance gushing out of your gaped hole and oozing out around his own cock.

“Jesus fuck,” He snaps, the words an unintelligible grunt against your lips, “So tight, and so sexy.”

Bradley’s free hand braces itself on your stomach, and the touch doesn’t make you recoil like it normally would. It’s lewd, but being splattered with their cum really makes you believe that they’re not going to judge your body.

Instead you lean into the touch, letting Bradley embrace you as you come down from your high a moaning pile of mush.

“Slow,” You warn Jake, who’s never heard the word a day in his life. He follows directions, though, easing his dick out of you and making sure it doesn’t burn.

“We need another shower,” Bradley pants after a moment of fucked-out silence.

You nod, brain foggy, “Yeah. We- we can’t show up to the restaurant smelling like sex. They’ll know.”

As it turns out, you don’t need to smell like sex for everyone to know you’ve just had it. You show up forty-five minutes late, sweaty-faced and rosy-lipped, all slightly out of breath. Your dress is rumpled, and Bradley’s tie is haphazardly secured.

“Oh,” Phoenix grimaces, nose scrunching in disgust, “Gross, guys.”

“In my bathroom?” Penny looks aghast, “You better not have clogged the shower drain.”

“Easy,” Maverick throws a hand out over her own, “We’ve done it in there one too many times to judge.”

“Gross!” Payback rears away from the older pilot sitting next to him, “Everybody needs to stop getting laid, but if you do, don’t tell me about it!”

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vivwritesfics · 22 days

Text

New Perspective

Bradley knew how it had happened. She told him that she'd never been eaten out, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and he was on his knees, face buried between her lips. But it had turned her into a pillow princess, Bradley eagerly diving between her spread legs whenever she asked. Something had to change

Warnings: age gap relationship, anal mentioned (not performed), oral (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimation, p in v, oral (male!receiving), face fucking, face painting, porn with 0 plot, cum eating

Bradley knew how it had happened. It was third date. They'd gotten to the restaurant, had one drink, and immediately bailed. Instead they got takeout, some more drinks, and returned to his place.

It was there on the sofa, as they sipped their drinks and ate takeout, that she confessed. They'd been together physically only once before, during their last date. It was what had made her comfortable enough to admit this to the older man she was seeing.

"I've never... been eaten out before."

It was a game of sorts, listing the things they hadn't done, the things they wanted to do. It hadn't started out sexual, but when Bradley admitted that he had never done anal, she knew she had to up the ante.

Bradley blinked at her, a surprised smile on his face. "You're kidding," he had said, his hand settling on top of hers. "So, nobody has ever had their mouth on your pussy before?" He asked, his mouth twitching up in a smile.

She shook her head.

Bradley took her to the bedroom after that. Well, first he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the couch. She had moaned into his mouth, legs locking around his middle as he hovered over her.

As she began pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, he stood up, pulling her with him. Bradley took her to the bedroom after that. He carried her, hands under her thighs as he walked her the short distance to his bedroom.

He laid her down on his sheets and pulled her underwear down her legs, discarding them on his bedroom floor. Pushing her skirt up, he kissed down her thighs, his moustache catching on her skin, burning slightly in all of the right ways.

Bradley took his time with her that night. He kissed her inner thigh, as close as he could get without properly touching where she needed him. And then he licked through her folds.

She came several times from oral alone. Bradley made sure of it. The way her body jolted each time his nose bumped her clit, and the way her moans grew louder every time he brought her close. Each orgasm was one that had her legs shaking. It was incredible, an experience she never wanted to end.

That was until she was pushing his head away, sore, sensitive and overstimulated. Bradley planted one last kiss on her soaked cunt and her hips swivelled away from him.

He cleaned her up after that, giving her plenty of time to recover before he fucked her, his cock pistoning in and out of her again and again and again.

She lost count of just how many orgasms she had that night.

It became a habit after that. Every time Bradley kissed her slow, his lips travelling down her neck, she opened her legs and he buried his face between them. Every time she laid there while Bradley did all of the work. He had accidentally turned her into a pillow princess.

She was his princess though. At first, Bradley didn't mind. He loved hearing the noises she would make while she came on his tongue, loved kissing her lips while he tasted of her.

But then, one day as Hangman was bragging about his latest sexual exploits, Bradley realised something. By this point they'd been together for a good six months, if not longer. And, in those six months, he hadn't had his dick sucked.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought of it. He'd woken up several times, cock achingly hard after dreaming of her on her knees, drool running down her chin as he pushed his cock between her lips.

And soon, it was something he couldn't stop thinking about. When at the navy hangar, servicing the Super Hornet that was his responsibility, it was all he could think about. Her face, painted with his cum.

Bradley knew he had to do something about it.

He went home to her that night. He didn't say hello, just immediately pressed his lips to hers. It was forceful and hot and, before she had said anything to him, she was moaning into his mouth.

Just as he had on the night of their third date, Bradley carried her to the bedroom. His hands were holding her thighs as he carried her down the hall and into the bedroom.

When he dropped her onto the bed, she pushed down her panties and opened her legs. But Bradley let out a single laugh. "Not this time, pretty girl," he said and pulled her to the end of the bed.

As he did, she unzipped his trousers and freed his cock. "I want you to suck my cock."

The way in which she slid from the bed and onto her knees, she was unsure. "Have you ever done this before, pretty girl?" He asked, his hand stroking over the skin on the side of her neck.

She swallowed. "Yeah, Bradley, I have," she said, wrapping her fingers around him.

Bradley's eyes shut. "Fuck," he hissed. It had been so long since somebody other than himself had touched his cock. After fantasising about this for weeks, maybe months, now, it was finally happening. She was really touching him.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her as she brought his cock to her lips. She didn't wrap her lips around him immediately, instead giving his tip little kitten licks. It was oh so teasing but oh so good. Bradley almost came then and there, just from watching her.

But finally, she wrapped her lips around him. She didn't take him all the way in, didn't have her nose buried in his pubic hair, not yet. "Fuck, pretty girl," Bradley hissed as she sucked the tip. "You're doing so good."

Finally, she took him as far as she could. It wasn't all the way, but it was as far as she could go. Tears sprang to her eyes and she took a moment to breath through her nose, to try her best not to gag.

His hands were in her hair, gently stroking through it. "You okay?" He asked and she nodded, keeping her lips around him.

She pulled back after that and pushed forward again. He gave her time to get into a rhythm, keeping his hands in her hair. "Holy shit, pretty girl," he whispered through a series of moans. "So good f' me."

Bradley might not have noticed when his hips began moving. Maybe because it was slow at first, matching the rhythm of her movements. But soon He was fucking her face, hands holding her in place as he moved.

She moaned around him as drool ran down her chin. It really was a scene from Bradley's fantasy, but he was too blissed out to notice.

"Fuck, baby," he cried, his hips stuttering. "I'm gonna-"

He pulled out just before he came, spurting over her face. Bradley's chest was heaving as he looked down at her, his cum painting her skin, her lips, some of it getting in her hair. "You're gorgeous," he said through a breath as he pulled her up.

Using his finger, he scooped up the cum from her cheek and held his finger to her lips, she was only more than happy to bring it between her lips and suck.

Bradley sat her down on the bed. He kissed her once and got to his own knees, setting himself up between her own legs. He was going to give her the most earth shattering orgasm ever.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader smut #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster smut #rooster x reader smut #top gun imagine #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun

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moonlight-prose · 6 months

Text

✧ BASIC NEEDS ✧

a/n: this one is simply a short filthy blurb for this man. i wrote it faster than i intended to, but the inspo was alive the other night. it was a nice change of pace to write something like this compared to the angst i usually give him. which don't worry there will be more angst coming. also...yes the gif was necessary. his tongue is the main character in this one.

day fifteen - cunnilingus + cum eating | kinktober 2023

summary: "you’d call him insatiable, addicted without any way to appease the craving he had. and you’d be entirely right. he was addicted."

word count: 1k+

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cunnilingus, oral (f receiving), cum eating, assplay, ass eating, sex in a public place kinda, bradley being unhinged.

You’d call him insatiable, addicted without any way to appease the craving he had. And you’d be entirely right. He was addicted. Unable to stop himself from needing a taste of you, a small amount to hold himself over until the next time. But those small promises of ‘let me do this baby I need it’ soon became so much more. Which is usually how you ended up in this position.

The noise of the bar was muffled through the bathroom door, but you couldn’t have focused on it even if you tried. Halfway through the night after two hours of playing pool and chatting with the boys, he had dragged you back here. The hunger was clear in his slightly glazed eyes. Although you wanted to bet no part of him was drunk on the alcohol he’d been consuming.

If there’s one thing about Bradley it was that his tolerance outmatched everyone at the bar. Able to drink each of them under the table two times over. A feat he’d tested several times.

Your hands were pressed to the door, head hanging forward, teeth digging into your bottom lip so hard you could taste copper. Except it was the only thing keeping you quiet as he knelt behind you. Tugging up your dress and sliding your lace panties down your legs. They pooled around your ankles, the color three shades darker than usual. A light pink now turned a mauvy purple. He grunted at the sight, hands cupping your ass as you arched your back towards him and that’s how you knew…he had you.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he mumbled, eyes stuck on the way your pussy was shiny with slick, your arousal clear. “How long have you been like this baby?”

You sucked in a breath. “Hours.”

“Poor baby.” He spread your ass, a moan getting caught in your throat at the obscene way he stared. “Shoulda told me. I’d have taken care of you.”

“Fuck.”

His cheek pressing to the back of your thigh, breath hot against your skin and it did nothing but make you squirm. “I can fucking smell you.”

“Bradley,” you whined, your hips pushing back slightly. You heard him chuckle and it made your cheeks burn, body practically shaking with need. “Don’t tease me. I can’t take—”

Your gasp was sharp, body slumping against the door when his mouth sealed over your pussy. Tongue sliding through your folds—his moan vibrating through you. When it came to eating you out Bradley was messy. He loved how he could turn you incoherent. How his touch brought you to life. He sucked at your clit, the sound echoed in the small confines of the bathroom, making you feel debauched. As if he wanted the whole bar to hear how he ate your pussy.

How much he enjoyed it.

“Tastes like fuckin’ heaven,” he mumbled, spreading you even further and pressing his tongue at your entrance.

“Oh god,” you moaned, cheek pressing to the door when he pushed forward, thrusting the wet muscle into you as his thumb found your clit. Sliding along it with quick movements.

His moan was loud—depraved—as he licked at you like you were the tastiest thing in this fucking bar. Although to Bradley you were. To him you were the sweetest slice of life that he could have. The lucky charm that he’d always searched for. You were everything he’d ever wanted and then some. Which is why the craving he consistently had, the addiction he had to your taste—your sounds—never eased.

Pulling away, he glanced at the way your eyes had fluttered closed, mouth parted and chest heaving. Eventually someone would come looking for you. If not that then the bathroom would be occupied by others. Yet he wanted to take his time. To strip you of everything except his touch—desperate to watch as you fell apart over and over again. Unfortunately that wasn’t something he could do here. So he dove back in, ripping a high pitched moan from your throat.

Two fingers curled into your wet heat, nudging perfectly against that spot that made your legs shake in your heels. The feeling of pleasure burned through you, shoving you towards an earth-shattering peak. One Bradley loved to drag you over.

“‘M gonna do this again when we get home,” he said, biting into the flesh of your ass. “I’ll eat you on the kitchen table like a proper fuckin’ meal.”

“Ah fuck I’m g-gonna—”

His tongue slid through your folds, a moan being pressed to your pussy that you felt in your toes. “Want to feel you baby.”

You were right on the edge. The sensations that coursed through you nearly sent you to your knees, but Bradley was holding you up. Keeping you stable as he had his way with you. The feeling of his spit hitting your asshole, trickling down to your pussy shoved a shocked moan up your throat. His tongue sliding along the tight puckered hole, sending you even higher.

“Don’t stop. Please, fuck.”

He moaned, fingers speeding up and tongue pressing forward. His other hand sliding up, thumb pressing into your ass, sent you flying over the edge. You slapped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your shout as you came. Gushing over his fingers and trembling against the door. He groaned, continuing to lick at you until you reached behind you and shoved at his head. Unable to take much more.

“I got you baby.”

You gasped, pressing your hands on the door to give you some leverage to stay upright. Only for him to lick through your pussy again, dragging a high pitched whine from your lips.

“B-Bradley I can’t—”

“I know honey.” Yet he didn’t stop, drinking you down with sloppy wet sounds that made your heart race. “Let me just taste you. Need it so fucking bad.”

Your eyes rolled back when he sucked your clit into his mouth, your cum now smeared across his chin. Shiny proof of what he’d been doing. You didn’t stop him this time. Fully ready to collapse on the floor as he licked at you, moans echoing in the room as he devoured you. He was starved and who were you to deny him his favorite meal? The taste of you.

#bradley bradshaw x f!reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #top gun: maverick #my writing #kinktober 2023

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vcrooster · 2 years

Text

He needs his family

Angst, smut & and just a little bit of fluff.

Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Wife!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your husband come back home to you completely shattered.

Warnings: mentions of rough sex, mental health issues, mentions of death and blood.

Author’s note: thank you guys so much for all the love I’ve been receiving from you guys! 🤍

***

Rooster was usually enthusiastic when he came back home from deployment.

You could tell when he was happy to be back in the comfort of his home, enjoying every second with his boy that had gotten a couple of inches bigger since he left. Rooster had promised to teach him how to play the piano and show him granpa’s album collection when he got back.

But he had to admit that the best part of it was sleeping in his own bed in your arms every night, he’d miss making love to you and looking at how pretty your face looked when you started to doze off into your sleep.

But this time it was all different.

He doesn’t know you know. You received a call early in the morning, your alarm wasn’t set for another three hours. It didn’t startle you as much thinking it was Bradley since he’s overseas. But it wasn’t him, it was Pete.

Your heart sank, you didn’t want all the worst scenarios to play in your head, but they did.

“Pete” You tried to sound as if you weren’t biting your nails anxiously. But you knew that he was the bearer of bad news.

“Sorry to wake you up–” He started.

“No, no, no, it’s alright”.

“There’s been some complications in the mission with Bradley” He sighed. You covered your mouth trying to drown the sorrows. Oh god no, don’t let him be dead.

“Is he?” The words left your mouth so silently that you almost thought he wouldn’t hear you.

“He’s okay, they just have him in observation in the hospital” He is quick to clarify, imagining what you must be feeling on the other end. “His wingman didn’t make it”.

Your body feels cold when he says that. It’s not the first time he had an accident in the air, however this was the first time he lost anyone, and if it was his fault you know he will never forgive himself for it.

“He’s set to go home by the end of next week, I’m just supposed to be calling you just to let you know to pick him up at the airport” you hear a door close on his side of the line and his voice is much clearer.

“What happened?” The hot tears were falling down your cheeks and your nails were digging in the palm of your hand.

“I can’t go into details” Pete breathed out “All he needs is his family right now”.

“Alright” all the words get stuck in your throat. He hangs up the call leaving you unsettled.

It’s three in the morning and you're crying in your bed. You feel a lot of pressure in your head, your eyes trail off to the framed picture of your wedding day on your bedroom wall.

Your boy in the middle of both of you, he was just a couple of years old in that picture, had the biggest smile on his face just like Bradley’s.

He looks so much like him.

He was always stealing your phone to send him videos and pictures of what he was doing, he liked to keep him updated.

He had even dressed up as a pilot for halloween, he asked for you to make him a patch with the name: Nick Bradshaw “Hawk”, the call sign Bradley chose for him when they’d use to play pilots in the living room.

But lately he hasn’t replied to him.

You hate to see your son keep sending messages to him with no answer. It absolutely broke your heart when he asked you if his dad was mad at him.

You’d expect him to call you and tell you what happened but he didn’t.

Him going no contact for almost a week felt like forever, the only thing you knew from him were Pete’s texts tell you he’s not doing very well. Needless to say they just made the knot in your stomach grow bigger.

He finally decided to call you a couple of days before coming back. It wasn’t a long call, all that you could rescue from it was that he’s okay and he couldn’t wait to be back home. Nothing about the mission or his wingman.

It was a Saturday morning when he finally arrived back in Oregon, back home. Nick had spent all afternoon making a sign for his dad that read “Rooster” just like in his helmet.

“Mom help me hold it higher so he can see the sign I made”. You do your best in lifting him up, wrapping your arms around his stomach. He wasn’t that heavy for a six year old, but you had to admit you did struggle a little. “There he is! Dad!”

He looked tired– very tired. He had some bandages around his arm and from what you could tell he also had a limp on his right leg.

His pretty hazel eyes had some prominent eye bags below them that he was trying to hide under a black baseball cap, but managed to smile when he spotted you in the crowd of people.

As soon as Nick’s feet were in the ground again he ran straight to his dad giving him the biggest hug he could.

His hand takes Bradley’s walking him towards where you were standing. You see how his eyes tone down once he meets yours.

He didn’t waste no time, he’s holding you so close to him you could feel yourself melting into him. The only thing that runs through your head is Maverick saying that Rooster needs his family.

“Welcome home honey” you whispered to his ear and that made him hold you tighter.

“I missed you guys so much” you rubbed his back. He’s been gone for almost seven months, you could honestly stay like this for hours.

“Dad, did you see my sign?” Your son pulls on his arm to try and grab his full attention, you find it so adorable how he had to get on his tippy toes to reach it.

“I did see it, you made this?” He was holding the paper in his hands, lowering at Nick’s height. He nodded with pride and started to explain it to Bradley. “ Can I keep it?”

“Yeah, I made it for you”.

“I love it, thank you” He hugs him one more time before rolling it up so he can put it on his backpack “C’mere” he carries him all the way back to the car on his shoulders.

The car ride was unexpectedly quite enjoyable, you could tell that he was trying to avoid any question that had to do with his deployment, nonetheless he seemed to be his warm self, which was honestly a big relief, you were prepared to have him at his worse but here he is smiling and singing in your car without a care in the world.

If you didn’t know him any better you’d know how good he is at evading the actual problems, he hopes that you're not too mad at him.

He wasn’t ignoring you. He was tired and maybe that was the worst excuse he could ever give you but there was no way he could talk to you without breaking down, how could he ever tell you it’s his fault that someone is dead.

There are a lot of maybes he’s scared about and it feels so intimidating looking into your eyes and saying that he’s alright just a little bruised so that you don’t have to be worried about him, he doesn’t know how long is he going to be able to keep it up, last thing he wants is for you to be disappointed in him.

He makes conversation about how he likes the new changes you made to the house, he marks down the inch Nick grew in the past months, he helps with dinner and the dishes. He has to repeat to himself that everything is alright, everything is normal, but he can even bring himself out of the bathroom without his anxiety shooting to the roof.

Before he could allow his mind to overthink any further he opens the door, finding you putting his clothes away on his side of the closet. His heart beats faster every step he takes in your direction and reminds himself to loosen up, that you love him.

“Hey” He hugs you from behind leaving a sweet kiss on your temple. There were still some traces of the vanilla scent you used and that was his favorite on you.

“Hi” You turn wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a warm smile. His hands fall to your hips holding tightly.

You can tell he’s nervous, his thumbs draw circles on your skin and he bites the inside of his cheek. The way his eyes look at you starts to take you back to the hurt Bradley from when his mother passed away.

You hate that you feel sorry for him, it’s just one thing after the other for him, it’s like he can’t catch a break.

You close the distance hugging him as hard as you could “Hey, it’s alright. You’re home.” you whisper trying to make him feel better.

Most people would never guess how depressed Rooster could get, the way he would let himself spiral into the rabbit hole made it sometimes very hard to pull him out of it. And it cost you a lot to do it but he was worth it.

You’ve always tried to be a good wife to him, always tried to make sure he didn’t feel alone, even when you weren’t by his side you tried to give him a ground to stand on.

“What happened Bradley?” Your fingers running slowly through his hair. He remained silent pulling closer to him as if he was trying to keep you from running away from him.

You know he doesn’t want to answer you. Not yet at least.

“I love you” His beautiful hazel eyes look straight into yours now looking like they lost their warmth.

There is a knot in your chest growing and growing as you see how shattered your husband came back home to you.

“I love you so much Bradley”.

His lips join yours in a tender kiss where he lets himself go.

Your fingers brush the skin of his neck pulling him closer to your body. You clutched at his shoulders as he started to take a few steps back letting the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Fuck, I missed you” His tounge immediately made its way into your mouth. Your legs wrapped tightly around his body and you felt him grow inside his shorts.

His fingers were having a hard time unbuttoning your pyjama. You chuckled, helping him undo it after giving up moving to your shorts, his hands got lost under the waistband so that he could rub your clit over the fabric making you moan his name just in the way he missed it so much.

It takes you a second to return to your blouse revealing his favorite teal lingerie under it.

“You wore this just for me baby?” He takes the straps feeling the silky material on his fingers. You nod, taking your bottom in between your teeth. Tracing the embroidery on your breast he took the opportunity to squeeze and knead them. “How lucky am I”.

You run your hands across his chest under the cotton material, feeling his dogs tags. Pulling at his shirt but it only resulted in him pinning your hands above your head, lips joining yours so hungrily that not being able to run your fingers through his hair was enough to make you whine.

Leaning down trailing down between your breasts leaving tiny red marks along your skin. “Rooster”. He went crazy when you used his call sign during sex.

He wanted to taste you so badly, he’s been thinking about it for months. You watch as he throws you leg over his shoulders kissing and giving small bites to the inside of your thigh.

He goes for it, immediately going for your clit making you arch your back.

He holds you down firmly with one hand as the fingers of the other curl inside you. He sucks on your clit and flicks it with his tongue, the only thing you can do is grip his hair tighter pulling him closer to you.

His fingers working inside you boy made the pleasure bubble up on your lower stomach. He waits for you to cum even though he is about to explode inside his shorts.

“Shit, I’m so hard already” you pull him up palming him over the material, gasping at how sensitive he was.

“What are you waiting for then?”.

He had been dreaming of this moment every night for the past seven months. He missed your touch, your kisses, how you felt around him, how every time it feels better than the last time.

He missed his wife.

He held you against his chest all night. His hot breath caressing your ear and arm wrapping on your waist.

The days got better, Bradley has been taking care of Nick, making up for the lost time. You did have to admit having not to worry about your son every hour of the day was a huge relief.

Bradley’s nights had gotten worse the following weeks. Waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, panting, feeling more exhausted one night after the other.

He didn’t want to worry you, he was becoming a little too irritated at all times, being at home, with Nick, he wouldn’t speak too Maverick, he even was a little too rough during sex.

It’s like he wasn’t himself anymore.

There he was on top of you, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, eyes closed and lips parted.

His thrusts got to a point of getting too harsh making you feel uncomfortable instead of feeling pleasure. Your nails sinking into the skin of his shoulder blades as you’re trying to ignore how the discomfort turns into pain.

“Bradley…” it barely comes out as a whisper thanks to the pressure in your throat.

He groans in response, digging his fingers into your hip holding you steady for him.

“Bradley” it was a little louder this time but his mind was somewhere else “Slow down”.

Rooster was usually passionate but gentle, now matter how caught up he was he’d always make sure you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

“Please Bradley”. You were trying not to freak out, but it wasn’t long before you'd let go of all the tears you were holding back. “You’re hurting me”.

You push his shoulders with the little strength you have left and finally manage to get his attention.

He stops. It finally stops.

He sees the tears running down your cheeks and how your hands are shaking over the skin of his chest. And your eyes, fuck your eyes, they looked so scared of him.

“Shit, shit, shit” What has he done? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” He just now noticed that you're still trying to push him off you.

You let out a painful whimper when he finally pulled out. He spotted a bloodstain on the sheets right in between your thighs and the burning that your nails left on his shoulders.

What has he done?

“Baby I’m so sorry” Rooster wasn’t exactly sure if it was alright to go near you, he thought it was better to create some distance instead of forcing you to accept his touch. “I didn’t–”. He swallowed, not knowing what to say that wasn’t an apology. “Fuck, I didn’t mean– I’m sorry”

You wrap the sheets around your body as you make your way to the bathroom. Not once you look at him, the whole situation feels confusing, the only thing you want to do is clean the blood running down your thighs.

He calls your name on the other side of the door. He listens to everything, drawers opening, water running, you crying.

“I’m so sorry” he felt himself choking sitting next to the door trying to stay afloat. “I keep fucking everything up”.

You grab your robe before opening the door. You’re not mad at him, he means it when he says he’s sorry, he didn’t want to hurt you. He was hurting and the pit inside him is only getting bigger.

You sit next to him and he immediately wraps his arms around you looking for your forgiveness. “I’m so sorry”.

He’s crying. You haven’t seen him cry since he left for deployment when Nick was a couple of months old.

“I know, I know Bradley” His eyes fogged when you reached cupping his face caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “But you need to talk to me. You need to stop acting like everything is alright”.

“I told him to take a left turn” His voice is shaky as he holds your hand.

“What?”.

“I didn’t see the bandits up ahead, they weren’t in the radar”. Words filled with so many emotions, tearing him apart. “They shot us down. He didn’t have time to eject” he finally opened up. “I heard him scream in the fire. I couldn’t help him.”

What could you possibly say to him? You had no idea it was this bad when Maverick called you that night.

“He had a kid…” That broke Rooster. There was a child somewhere that was going to grow up without his Dad. Just like he did, just like his own boy could’ve had if he wasn’t behind his wingman that day.

“Oh Bradley” You hugged him as he cried in your chest. Last time you were in this position it was when Nick’s cat died.

He cries with so much guilt and pain. He cries in the same way he did holding on to his mother’s hand when she passed in the hospital bed.

“It’s not your fault” You whispered “it could’ve happened to anybody” His fingers were digging in your skin again, not letting you go anywhere.

“Mom?” Nick’s body was half way into the room looking so worried he almost had a scared expression on his face.

“Everything is alright honey, go back to your room”.

Bradley stiffness in your arms. He doesn’t want his boy to see him like this. He’s supposed to be his hero, no kid should ever see his hero like this, right?

“What’s wrong with Dad?” His small hazel eyes can’t look away from his father. “Does he have a tummy ache?” He makes it a little further into the room only thinking of how to help his Dad. “I’ll go get some tums”. You hear his footsteps go all the way down to the kitchen opening up the pantry doors.

Rooster chuckles at his son’s innocence.

“I’m sorry” he says one more time before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, we’ll stay with you now matter what Bradley, nothing is changing that”. You wipe the tear that’s about to reach his lips and place a soft kiss on them.

Nick is back in no time, Bradley sits up and puts a smile on his face thanking his kid for taking care of him.

“Here daddy” Rooster opens his palm letting the tables fall on his hand “I got you two because you're bigger than me”.

“Thank you” Rooster takes a hand to his hair, messing it up a little more than it already is “You mind keeping an eye on me tonight?” He hugs his son, he hugs him knowing that every single second with him matters more than he thinks.

“Only if you promise to throw up in the bathroom”.

“I promise” his pinky intertwines with Bradley’s.

He takes care of the bed before he lets you both go on it, taking care of the previous sheets.

No nightmares just him and the people he loved the most.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #rooster angst #rooster one shot #rooster smut #rooster top gun #top gun #top gun maverick

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