#top gun: maverick spoilers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

victimofthemusic · 2 years

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barefoot, sun-kissed, after burn grease (dogs tags, slicked up, six-pack abs)

part 2 of the i need a man to make me (sweat) 'verse

read part 1 here

Fic Summary:

No one should look that good with an 80’s porn ‘stache and jorts. Especially Rooster, of all fucking people.

What happens after the football scene. You know, that football scene.

Author's Note:

I can't seem to stop writing porn for these two. I saw the movie again and it's even better the second time around, which is hopefully, the story for my writing of this ship.

Thank you guys so so much for the love on the first installment, it was very unexpected but so appreciated. You guys rock <3

Title taken, once again, from Leslie Powell's Man to Make Me Sweat. That song has been living, rent free, in my mind, since it came out and keeps pushing me to write nothing but porn for these two. Leslie sweetie, I'm so sorry.

This isn't a planned series, but if we wanted to put a timeline on it, it would take place before take me where i want to go.

Enjoy xxx

"You–” Jake pants, breathless, gripping desperately at slick, sun warm shoulders for balance. “ –are so–” a hot, wet tongue follows a line of sweat down his neck, teeth teasing at the twitching muscles, his fluttering pulse point, making his brain momentarily blank out. “–annoying.”

“Am I?” Rooster asks mildly, managing to sound completely unbothered as he finishes sucking what’s sure to be a rather impressive hickey into the hinge of Jake’s jaw, but the satisfied smirk dancing on his lips, the heat in his gaze when he pulls away, gives him away. And so does the rather sizeable erection straining at the zipper of those stupid jorts, pressing insistently into jut of Jake’s hip.

And just as he’s about to make what’s no doubt a very witty quip about Rooster being synonymous with cock, like Bradshaw’s never heard that one or some version of it before, Rooster presses down, almost possessively, on the freshly bloomed bruise. A wave of achepleasurepain ripples through Jake’s body and he shudders out a breathless groan, cock throbbing in his too tight swim trunks at the sensation.

“Very,” Jake breathes when his brain comes back online and then he captures that infuriating smirk in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue, filthy in a way that makes him feel wanton and just a tad bit desperate.

But Bradshaw gives as good as he’s got; nipping at his bottom lip, stroking his tongue over every last crevice of Jake’s mouth like he’s trying to commit his taste to memory, slotting a muscled thigh between Jake’s legs, grip tight on his hips to leave more bruises, encouraging him to grind into the friction he so gallantly offering him, like the true gentleman he is.

“You don’t seem very annoyed with me at the moment,” Rooster murmurs when they part, letting go of his hip in favor of tracing wandering fingers over the dips of his belly, calluses catching and dragging over his hyper sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He thumbs over a nipple and Jake hisses, head falling back on the wall as he bucks his hips in response, absolutely not whimpering at the sweet zing of pleasure that goes directly to his already dripping cock, shivering when Rooster’s tongue laps at another bead of sweat, the bristly hairs of his mustache leaving behind a burning trail as he follows it down, down, down, sucking a mark into the dip of clavicle.

Jake swallows heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing and Rooster nips it with his teeth. “I hide it well.”

Rooster chuckles, a warm gust of air over his too hot skin that makes him shiver. “Oh, sweetheart,” He croons, clever fingers teasing at the waistband of his shorts, trailing through the thin line of hair, tracing over the V of his hips and Jake tilts them up, silently begging for his hand to go lower. “I don’t think you’re hiding much of anything.”

Jake grits his teeth, eyes slitting open to glare at Rooster’s smug face. “You ain’t in much better shape, darlin’.” He returns, circling his hips in a slow, easy grind, brushing their hard cocks together.

He thrums with his own smug satisfaction at the way Rooster’s lashes flutter, lips parting on a gasp as arousal flushes his tan cheeks a pretty rose that spreads all the way down his smooth chest, dusting the contours of his belly and disappearing behind the waistband of his shorts.

“Yeah,” Jake murmurs, taking the opportunity to flip their positions, pinning Rooster to the tiled bathroom wall with his hips, an arm on either side of his head. “That’s what I thought.”

Jake doesn’t give him a chance to respond; leaning up–because Rooster is a fucking jolly green giant and has about two inches on him and God that shouldn’t be as hot as it is, he should be offended, his pride should be wounded, but his body positively burns at the thought of being a little smaller, of Rooster being just a little bit bigger–he crushes his lips to Rooster’s swollen mouth in a kiss that’s all heat and desire, curling his tongue around Rooster’s, giving it a teasing little suck that makes Rooster groan like he’s been punched in the gut. The sound goes straight to Jake’s cock, makes his head spin with pure want for this infuriating man that drives Jake crazy in more ways than one.

And God, does he want Rooster, more than he’s ever wanted anything–the Top Gun trophy, being team leader on this death mission that’s brough their paths back together, his own fucking wings–and he doesn’t know what to do with all of that want, all that desire to be utterly consumed by him, body, mind and soul because when Jake wants something, he doesn’t go half in, he wants all of it or nothing. And he wants Bradley Bradshaw, with everything he has in him.

He wants and he wants and he wants.

(And wants, desperately, for Bradley to want him back)

But if this is all he’s going to get, by God, he’s gonna make the best of it.

So he kisses Bradley, savors the taste of his lips, the feeling of his mustache burning a trail across the ticklish skin of his top lip, the way his heartbeat flutters underneath the slick, warm skin of his chest, the sound he makes when Jake flicks a thumb over his nipple, the way those hands pull him closer into the circle of his arms, the way his fingers tangle in his hair, the gentle way he grips his jaw, like Jake’s made of the most precious glass and the way it juxtaposes the hungry way he kisses him, like he’s starving for it and Jake’s a ten course meal, like he’s water and he hasn’t drank in a long, long time.

It’s heady and hot, Bradley is everywhere and Jake wants more.

“Wanna blow you.” Jake whispers against his lips, tracing teasing fingers along the thin trail of hair that disappears beneath his stupid jorts that stick to him like a second skin. “Wanna taste you.” He breathes, kissing Bradley’s chin, that stupidly handsome jaw that Jake wants to write sonnets about; licks the salt from his skin, smells the coconut from his sunscreen, the faded spices of his cologne and Jake wants drown in him. “Will you let me, Roo?”

He sucks a bruise into the slope of Bradley’s–because, fuck, if he’s going to do this, he’s not gonna hide behind callsigns, even if it’s just in his head–neck, right where it meets those deliciously broad shoulders and Bradley moans, nodding his head rapidly against the stained tiled wall. “Fuck yes,” Bradley pants. “Please.”

Jake smirks, amused. “Such a polite boy you are.”

Bradley shoves him, but there’s laughter in his eyes, a smile dancing on his lips that makes Jake smile, too, as he slips down to his knees, kissing down Bradley’s body as he goes, licking over those sweat slicked abs that have been taunting him all day, sucking a mark into the pale skin of his hip that had been protected by his shorts from the sun, nimble fingers popping the button on the damp denim, smirking when Bradley’s cock, hard and straining, does the rest of the work for him, pushing his zipper down and slapping obscenely against his belly, smearing precum over tan skin that Jake licks away, moaning at the taste.

He can feel Bradley’s eyes on him, watching him with that observant gaze that always makes Jake feel like he’s in the crosshairs of an enemy plane and he revels in the power that it gives him now, in this moment, on his knees in this filthy public restroom, hard enough to pound nails and practically salivating at the chance to get something he’s wanted for longer than he’d like to admit.

So he meets Bradley’s gaze with his, reveling in the way those dark eyes threaten to burn him alive with the flickering flames of desire dancing in those umber irises and takes him into his mouth, humming at the taste, the weight of him on his tongue, hollowing his cheeks and sucking him down, inch by inch, until his nose is nestled in the neatly trimmed thatch of hair at the base of his cock, inhaling the musky, heady scent of Bradley, pure and absolutely addicting.

“Jake,” Bradley breathes, tone downright reverent, gentle fingers twisting into his hair like he needs something to hold on to, to ground him here, into this moment so he doesn’t float away.. His brown eyes smolder with the embers of want, lips kiss swollen and parted, chest heaving, dog tags gleaming between the sculpted perfection of his chest in the harsh orange light of the bathroom and he’s so goddamn beautiful, it’s fucking unfair.

A part of Jake is curious to see how quick he can take Bradley apart, but it’s outweighed by the part of him that’s worried that there won’t be a next time and he’s determined to make this last. So he takes his time with it–letting himself savor the feeling of Bradley’s well endowed cock in his mouth, rolling his tongue over each vein, swirling his tongue over the head, lapping at the steady stream of precum, groaning at the salty sweet taste, building up a slow, steady rhythm with each bob of his head, letting his hands caress the tense muscles of Bradley’s thighs, groaning when he feels the them shaking, knowing it’s taking everything in Bradley to hold still and not fuck into his mouth like Jake just knows he wants to.

And there’s something so beautiful about the way Bradley so willingly surrenders to him, letting him have control of his body, his pleasure, holding on for the ride, trusting Jake to get him there with every flick of his tongue, every bob of his head and it makes Jake feel warm all over, flushed with desire, body burning with want and he presses a hand to himself to relieve the ache in his cock, letting out a desperate whine at the friction.

“God, look at you,” Bradley rasps, sounding completely wrecked, cupping Jake’s jaw in his hand, calloused thumb pressing gently into his cheek to feel himself in Jake’s mouth. “Fucking beautiful, sweetheart, Jesus Christ.”

Jake preens at the praise, chest warm, heart squeezing in the best way and shows his appreciation by quickening his pace, letting his fingers tease over Bradley’s balls, rolling them gently in his palm and Bradley sucks in a breath, fingers tightening on his jaw, in his hair, tugging at it in a way that makes Jake moan, wanton and hot, harmonizing with the whimper that slips past Bradley’s parted lips, hips twitching forward just enough to make Jake gag at the unexpected motion, tears springing to his eyes that Bradley wipes away with a soothing thumb.

“So fucking pretty, baby,” Bradley murmurs breathlessly, touch tender and sweet on his cheek. “Look so good with my cock in your mouth–feels so good, sweetheart, gonna make me come–”

Jake moans, heat pooling in his belly at the thought of it and Bradley’s eyes gleam with delight. “You want that, baby? Want me to come down that pretty little throat? Let you taste me?”

Jake whines, determined now to wipe that smug look off of Bradley’s face, the cocky grin, the knowing gleam in his eyes, so he redoubles his efforts, bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks, tonguing the underside vein and when he knows Bradley’s almost there, he teases a finger in the space between his balls and his hole, pressing a knuckle up into the sensitive skin just as his teeth drag teasingly over the head of his cock and Bradley comes with a surprised shout, groaning out Jake’s name as he floods his mouth with his release that Jake swallows down greedily, humming in smug satisfaction as he watches the way Bradley shivers with the force of it, cheeks flushed pink, the smooth, exposed column of his throat as he leans his head against the wall, the way his muscled chest heaves with pants as he attempts to catch his breath.

Beautiful, Jake thinks as he lets Bradley’s softening cock slip out of his mouth, tucking him back into his shorts, already mourning the loss. So fucking beautiful, he thinks again, when hazy brown eyes flutter open and meet his, burning with an intensity that threatens to set him aflame.

Bradley eyes drift down to his cock, still hard and aching in his shorts, damn near throbbing at this point, he’s so fucking turned on, it wouldn’t take more than a few strokes, probably, to get him there and just as his hand drifts to do just that, Bradley’s suddenly there, kneeling over him, knees on either side of his hips, batting his hand away and almost ripping his swim trunks in his haste to get them down far enough for Jake’s cock to spring free; which it does with a lewd slap against his stomach, dripping like a damn faucet with precum and the moans he lets out when he finally gets a hand on him reverbartes off the walls of the bathroom, a feedback loop of his pleasure that Bradley swallows with his lips, groaning at the taste of himself on Jake’s lips, his tongue.

“You did so good, baby,” Bradley breathes into the space between their lips when they part, voice a low, pleasant rasp that sends arousal zinging down Jake’s spine, heat pooling his belly and he whimpers, tilting his chin in askance, moaning when Bradley obliges him and kiss him, harsh and dirty. “Come for me, sweetheart,” Bradley whispers against his lips. “Come for me, Jake.”

It’s the sound of his name–his real name, not his callsign, not a nickname– said in that low, gravelly voice that sends him spiraling over the edge, pleasure, white hot and rippling, curling around every nerve ending inside his body, lighting him up from the inside out as he shudders in Bradley’s arms, biting into his sweat slicked shoulder to muffle his cries as he spills over Bradley’s fist, lungs burning, mind spinning until he feels dizzy with it and Bradley soothes him through it, pressing kisses into his hair, running gentle hands down his sides, his expanding and contracting ribs, stroking through his sweat matted hair, until Jake finally feels himself begin the slow descent back beneath the clouds.

“Fuck,” Jake sighs, eloquent as ever and Bradley snorts, shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter and Jake smiles, pressing a kiss to the mark that will no doubt result in a bruise before he lifts his head, catching Bradley’s gaze with his own. “If we can manage that in a dingy beach bathroom, I’d hate to see what we could accomplish in a real bed.”

He’s worried, for a just a moment, that Bradley will just roll his eyes and shove him off his lap and they’ll go back out into the real world, back to the hostile jibes and competitive energy that’s made up their relationship since their paths crossed the first time, years ago, both fresh out of flight school and eager to make a name for themselves like all the pilots that came before them, both of them with a point to prove and a chip on their shoulder. They’ve always been competing, in one way or another, since they’ve known each other and maybe that will always be the case with them, but Jake can’t help but hope that this…thing, whatever it is, building between them, might change it, just a little bit.

It’s probably a stupid thing to hope for, but they could die in a week and Jake wants to know what it’s like to have even just a piece of Bradley before he gets taken out by an errant mountain or a SAM or whatever other obstacle awaits them on this impossible suicide mission. Because one of them or both of them aren’t coming back and Jake will be damned if he goes out without at least giving this a shot.

So he doesn’t bother to hide the hope in his gaze or the intent in the kiss he places on Bradley’s lips, the eagerness in his fingers when they twine in his thick, messy waves to pull him closer, wanting to crawl inside him and stay there, cocooned in the warmth and safety of Bradley’s strong embrace.

Bradley kisses him back, chuckling, low and warm, smooth like top shelf whiskey, eyes gleaming when they part and he asks, slyly, “That an invitation?”

But Jake can see the hidden question in his gaze, the uncertainty, the hope and he grins and says, “It’s an order, Lieutenant,” before he kisses him, slowly, coaxingly, temptingly as he whispers,“Take me to bed, darlin’.”

His eyes flutter open just in time to see Bradley’s smile soften into something sweeter, fonder, as he cups Jake’s cheek in his hand, thumb smoothing over the curve of it with a gentle caress that he can’t help but lean into with a satisfied sigh, heart fluttering when Bradley whispers, “Then show me the way home, honey.”

I still want to write a 5+1 fic for these two and I have a few of the chapters outlined, but this unplanned little series I have going on here keeps getting in the way, but hopefully it will be posted soon.

come yell at me about rooster/hangman or iceman/maverick, i'm obsessed and i'm always up for more fic ideas, keep me fed.

Until next time :)

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tinyhousegirl · 2 years

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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Pregnant!Reader

I just loved expanding on this post. Like what you’re reading? Buy me a coffee!

---

There was nobody in the world you and Bradley would have wanted to tell first after finding out you were pregnant than Maverick. So much so that after your first ultrasound, with photos in hand, you and Brad drove out to Pete’s hanger to surprise him.

You contained your excitement better than Bradley did, as he immediately burst out the news the second he saw his uncle. Both men had the biggest smiles on their faces as they hugged tightly, before Pete hugged you tight, too.

“Careful with the pregnant lady!” Bradley exclaimed before he joined the bear hug, your laughs uncontainable. These two men would be the death of you someday.

—

“I have an idea.” You said one night on the couch in between episodes of whatever Bradley was fixated on at the time.

“That’s never good.” You smacked his arm playfully. “I’m just teasing, love. What’s up?”

The two of you had been mulling over a gender reveal party for the last week or so to prepare for your upcoming scan. You both wanted to be surprised with your friends and family, but hadn’t had any ideas stick. Until now.

“What if Pete did the gender reveal? Think the Navy would let him use his jet and color the smoke?”

The childlike grin that spread across his face was contagious, as he babbled a bunch of words, kissed you multiple times, then skittered off to probably call Maverick with the request.

—

It could not have been a better day for the party. Bradley took you around town and pampered you in the morning, making sure you were relaxed and ready for the day. He really was going to be the sweetest dad.

When you arrived outside Pete’s hanger, you were thrilled to see so many of your friends and family there. By the grace of some higher power (read: Maverick and Rooster bullying the Navy), most of the Top Gun pilots you got to know once you met Bradley were there with their significant others. Your friends, some family, and Mav’s friends were there, too.

You were chatting with Jake’s wife, who was a few weeks further pregnant than you, when both of your aviators walked up to you.

“Hey Rooster, I was thinking - a hundred bucks to whoever’s baby is born first.” Hangman teased, placing his hands around his wife’s bump.

“With your genes, this baby is gonna be way late.” She rebutted, leaning into him a bit. Hangman feigned hurt.

Bradley almost mirrored his wingman’s stance next to you as the group giggled at the exchange. He couldn’t care when either baby was here, just that they both got to grow up with the best people around. He hoped his kid would tease Hangman’s kid a little better than he could to the fellow pilot, though.

“Hey, speaking of late. Where the hell is Maverick? There’s no way he is missing this, right?”

You smirked, tapping Bradley’s hands against your tiny bump. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s coming.”

As if on cue, Amelia ran up to you. “Hey, c’mon, show time!”

“Excuse us.” Bradley took your hand and followed out onto the tarmac more. Penny was waiting with his flight helmet. He gladly took it as you turned to the small gathering of friends.

“We want to thank you all for coming and showing us so much love. We cannot wait for baby to be here!” You exclaimed with the biggest smile on your face. “Now, for the moment we’ve all been waiting for!”

You turned to look at Bradley, who drew his facemask up to his mouth.

“Hey Mav, you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Rooster.” Maverick replied in his ear.

“You are go for reveal. Repeat - you are go for reveal.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around your shoulders as the sound of a fighter jet rapidly approached. As Maverick flew towards the crowd, he flicked a button in his cockpit to release the smoke. The crowd behind you let out a symphony of cheers.

You barely had the time to process the color before Bradley had you wrapped in his arms excitedly. You both were overcome with the emotions as you held onto each other tight, and finally you caught his eye.

“Captain Bradshaw, are you crying?” You teased, wiping a loose tear from his face.

“Happy tears, love, happy tears."

As the smoke faded behind the jet, Maverick made a wide turn back to the landing strip, craning his head to see the color for himself. He couldn’t stop the tears blurring his vision for a few seconds.

“Always gonna be with us, aren’t you Goose?” He laughed. And with that, he took off to land, excited to reunite with his family on the ground.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick spoilers #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #rooster #maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

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