#bradley rooster bradshaw smut

[sunlightmurdock]

hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)

surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.

warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k

this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x

…

Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.

“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.

Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.

The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.

Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.

Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.

He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.

Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.

There’s nothing that he needs to do.

Nothing urgent.

Nobody else home.

Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?

He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.

Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.

There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.

“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.

“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.

The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.

“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.

Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.

They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.

His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.

He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.

His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.

The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.

Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.

He swallows thickly.

He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.

He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.

Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.

Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.

Not that any of this feels exactly regular.

He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.

All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.

His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.

Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.

There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.

If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.

A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.

The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.

You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ���em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.

The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.

A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.

He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.

The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.

His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.

Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.

You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.

The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.

His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.

His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.

His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.

Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.

“Fuck.”

“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.

She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.

You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.

Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.

As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.

The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”

He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.

He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.

Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.

You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.

He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.

You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.

“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.

He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—

“Was— Was that my underwear?”

Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.

He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.

Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.

You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.

All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”

…

tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13

If your name is here but isn’t tagged, it may be your settings that won’t allow me to tag you fully!

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #dilf Bradley #bradley x the nanny #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster Bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #top gun: maverick smut

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw.

summary: It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

a/n: ignore that this gif is from the offer, ok? It fits the vibe.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: masturbation (m), facesitting, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, bradley's a vocal lover, praise kink.

word count: 3k

taglist: @nouis-bum @floydsmuse @mamachasesmayhem @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @fall-winter-heart97 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue

Two more days.

Two more days until Bradley could see your face in person again. Two more days until he could be home and in his own space. 

Bradley let out a heavy, tired sigh, reaching his hand under his pillow. He pulled out the picture of you that he’d brought with him on deployment, tracing over your image with his fingers gently. The picture’s edges were becoming curled, worn from being tucked into flight helmets and under pillows, clutched in sweating, sometimes shaking palms, lips pressed to it in a tender kiss on occasion. He admired the photo, he’d taken it on a date you went on before he left. 

His dad’s well-loved Polaroid camera, left to him as a kid, in hand, he’d taken you to Mission Beach for the day, wanting to have the full tourist experience with you before he got shipped to the middle of the Pacific again. He found a store in Coronado that sold film for vintage cameras, building up a small stockpile for himself. He’d given you a full photoshoot that day — pictures snapped at every opportunity. Watching planes fly over head, playing games in the arcade, rides on the wooden rollercoaster, rock climbing, lunch dates, mini golf, and rock climbing. He’d snapped a couple of you in your sundress, smiling sweetly at him for the camera, your hair flowing in the warm Pacific breeze. 

This photo, however, was the one of you laughing on the beach, your baby blue two-piece swimsuit on, the high-waisted bottoms hugging your curves, the coordinating blue top cupping your breasts in a way that pushed them upever so slightly. He could practically hear your laugh whenever he looked at it, and it made his heartache that little bit more each time. 

“Fuck," he muttered to himself, sighing again as he looked around the bunk. 

Jake was on deck for the night, leaving Bradley with the shared space all to himself for at least a couple of hours. He laid back on his bed, tugging his grey sweatpants down off his hips. He spat into his free hand, using it to stroke his cock in a slow, steady pace, your photograph in his other hand, eyes fixed on your figure as he masturbated. 

Fuck, he missed you. 

He shut his eyes, picturing you as he continued to stroke himself, seeing the facial expression you made whenever you rode him, eyes shut with ecstasy, tits bouncing up and down, hips moving, hands pressed to his chest. The mental image alone was almost enough to drive him over the brink. He let out a deep grunt as he finished, your name escaping him in a soft moan. 

Two days couldn’t come soon enough. 

When he finally got home, Bradley was exhausted. The time difference had caused him more jet lag than it usually did, not that he was sleeping well without you to begin with. He never did. He’d landed earlier than anticipated, coming home a day before he was expected. He unlaced his standard issue boots, kicking them off at the door before heading directly to the laundry room. Stripping clean from his uniform, he tossed it into the washing machine, desperate for a shower and fresh, comfortable clothes.

With a dry towel wrapped around his waist, he bounded up the wooden stairs to the main bathroom. He dropped the towel as he turned the shower on, sighing happily as he stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over him for a minute, enjoying one of the first comforts of being home for the first time in six months. 

Stepping out of the tower, he quickly dried himself off and wrapped his towel back around his waist before heading down the hall to the bedroom. Everything was neatly pulled together — freshly laundered sheets on the bed that still smelled like your favourite detergent, his clothes neatly put away for him, fresh flowers sat in a vase on your nightstand, and a new book sat on his, with a note card placed on top. 

B, I saw this the other day at that cute little bookstore on Orange Ave. It made me think of you. I thought you’d like to read it now that you’ll have a little down time. - Love, your girl. Xo

Bradley felt his heart swell as he read your neatly printed note. He picked the book up, scanning the cover with a soft smile before setting it back down. A true crime book about a case in a podcast he’d mentioned in one of his emails home — it was perfect. God, you were perfect.

He tugged a clean white t-shirt over his head before reaching into his dresser for clean boxer briefs and a pair of well-loved denim shorts that were beginning to fray around the cuffs from being worn so frequently. Bradley looked out the bedroom window at the landscape, happy to finally be home. He’d missed all the little things while he was gone — the palm trees, the smell of those little laundry scent beads you swore by, your coordinating body wash, shampoo and conditioner that you insisted on buying for him when you’d learned he’d been coasting through life for 37 years with a 3-in-1 bottle — almost as much as he’d missed you. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got to work crafting himself the sandwich to top all sandwiches. He was starving, and after months of bland, unexciting meals on board an aircraft carrier, all he wanted was comfort food. With his turkey club piled high and a glass bottle of Coke from Mexico in hand, he settled into his favourite chair and began to enjoy himself until you came home from work.

When you did come home, you heard the faint sound of voices coming from the back of the house. You dropped your bag at the front door, running through the house so quickly, you’d forgotten to take your shoes off. In the living room sat Bradley, in his favourite, well-loved chair, dozing as sports highlights played in the background, a plate with remnants of a sandwich and a half-finished bottle of Coke sat on the table beside him. 

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his forehead as you stroked his curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He was finally home.

Bradley’s eyes fluttered open, a smile forming on his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his nose pressed to your neck as you settled into his lap. 

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, peppering you with kisses.

“Missed you more, B,” you echoed as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“God, I missed you so much, honey. This might have been the hardest trip away from you yet.” 

Bradley’s hands rested firmly on your hips as his lips wandered down your neck to your collarbone. He mumbled against your skin, shoving the strap of your tank top down off of your shoulder. His teeth grazed at your exposed, sun kissed skin, causing you to let out a gasp. 

“Bradley!” you squealed, laughing as his deep brown eyes looked at you, taking in the sight of your face again. 

“Mhmm, I missed that laugh of yours,” he hummed, his large hands moving to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed these tits of yours too.”

“I bet you have, were Jake’s not doing it for you?” you teased.

Bradley scoffed as he pulled your tank top off over your head, tossing it off to somewhere in the void across the room. With one hand snaked around your back, he unfastened your bra in one fluid motion, discarding it to the floor. He grinned at you before pressing his mouth back to your collarbone, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples as they pebbled at his touch.

“No, one’s could do it for me like yours do, honey, you know that. Look at you. So pretty for me. My girl’s always looking pretty, ain’t she?” he purred between kisses to your breasts. 

“Bradley,” you laughed, shaking your head, “This is what you want now that you’re finally home?”

“I’ve been wantin’ this since about two hours after I left, six months without you has been torture. I contemplated quitting when I came home. I thought about faking an injury so they’d discharge me. I tried thinking up a thousand ways to come home early — all of them bad.” He nodded, as he looked up at you, hands still cupping your tits. 

“Mhmm, you thought about quitting for me? That’s not the Bradley Bradshaw I know.”

“I swear, honey, this time…this time was harder than usual.”

“Well, I’m all yours now,” you nodded, your hand stroking his cheek. 

Bradley hummed to himself, tilting his head to the side as he thought for a minute. He looked at you, watching as you bit your lower lip. The sight of you alone after so much time apart was enough to make him hard, but now it was becoming unbearable. He needed you. He craved you. 

“Upstairs, now,” he urged, nodding his head as you got off his lap.

You grinned to yourself as you headed up the stairs, walking just slowly enough to your bedroom so Bradley could catch the way your hips swayed with every step, your taut ass bouncing with each movement. It was enough to drive any man insane, but Bradley could barely contain himself. 

Fuck, he missed you.

He pushed you on to the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with a wide grin plastered to his face. You placed a hand on his chest, steadying him as your smile faltered for a second. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling, nodding slowly as Bradley sat back on his knees for a minute. 

“Go easy on me, big guy, it’s been a long six months, I’m out of practice,” you teased, grinning at him.

“Shoot, honey, I thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t want me to-never mind, I’ll go easy on ya. I always do, don’t I?”

“Roo, you do the exact opposite of going easy.” You grinned, rolling your eyes at Bradley. 

Bradley repositioned himself over your body, smirking as he took in the sight of you again. His lips began trailing down your abdomen your shorts, sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he popped the button on your shorts open, sitting up as he pulled them off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your lace trimmed underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth found your core. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed for the last six months. 

“Just as pretty as I remember it, fuck.”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, pressing varying degrees of pressure into you, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him for the last six months. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you. He sat himself up fully, smirking at you.

“Get up, pretty girl, I have an idea.”

You let out a whine in protest, sitting up on the bed as Bradley now laid down on his back. Shooting him a look, you raised your palms in protest, shaking your head at him.

“Bradley, you seriously stopped so I would give it to you instead?”

“What? No,” Bradley laughed, shaking his head as he gestured to his face. “Take a seat.”

“You want me to…?”

Bradley lifted his head up off the pillow, giving you a lustful stare, his eyebrows knitting together as he nodded his head. “Did I stutter? Take. A. Seat.”

You rolled your eyes, giving your head a shake as you slipped out of your underwear, dropping them to the floor. Climbing back on to the bed, you hovered yourself above Bradley’s mouth, looking down at him as you chewed on your lip. He shook his head, his mustache tickling at your inner thigh as he kissed up your leg. In one swift motion, he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you down until his lips were directly under your dripping core, smirking as he murmured against your skin again. 

“That’s my girl. I’ve missed this pussy so fuckin’ much.” He grunts, nodding his head slightly as he buries his tongue into you, nose pressed to your clit. 

“Bradley!” you whimper, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached down, fingers tugging on his dark curls.

Bradley’s tongue worked into you at a breakneck speed, so fast that you wondered how he was able to breathe. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, blunt fingernails digging into your soft skin as he held you in place. His mouth worked on you relentlessly, refusing to let up until he had you a screaming, crying, pretty little mess, just how he (and you) liked it. 

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you babbled, unable to say anything other than his name as his tongue fucked into you. 

He grunted into your cunt again, mumbling words of praise into your skin. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, honey, so fuckin’ sweet.” He growled before delving his tongue into you again.

Your thighs began to shudder and shake, spasming as you felt your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You shut your eyes, tears stinging as Bradley continued, not breaking his rhythm once as you came, his tongue quickly lapping at your arousal hungrily. He moved his mouth up to your clit, kissing at it with a couple of powerful sucks before pulling his mouth away. He let go of your thighs, a couple of darker marks forming on your skin from where he got carried away, gripping you a little too tightly. You got up, sitting on the bed, panting as you tried to find your mental clarity again. 

Bradley rolled onto his side and surveyed your thigh, pressing gentle kisses to the darkened marks on your skin in apology. Once you found your words again, his big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Roo,” you nodded, placing a hand on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed ya too, honey. Ain’t done with ya yet though.”

With that, Bradley quickly shimmied out of his denim shorts and boxers, kicking them off clumsily. He crawled across the bed, finding the spot between your thighs. His hands smoothed over your legs, lifting them up and hoisting them up onto his shoulders. You curved your knees around him as he aligned his hardened cock with your entrance, easing into you with a soft groan. 

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. You missed this cock, didn’t you? Missed me fillin’ ya up, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, pausing as he felt your walls stretching around him. 

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, whining as he stretched you. 

God, he was right. You did miss him. You missed him more than you wanted to let on, you missed his presence, his voice, the silly things he’d do that pissed you off, you missed the way he made love to you, passionate and caring, full of praise, making it his life’s mission to make you feel good. He took it as seriously as his work - calculated movements, using the same precision and laser-focus he did in the air.

Your eyelids fluttered shut again as you felt him pull out of you, pushing himself back into you again with a powerful thrust of his hips. Bradley tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, refusing to move again. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, keep those pretty eyes on me. Want you lookin’ at me when I fuck you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly as he pounded into your entrance again, making your head spin as your walls clenched around him. He began thrusting into you, starting slowly as he found his rhythm again, savouring every movement, every inch of you that he’d missed over the last six months. Bradley gently pressed his palm into your pubic bone as he thrusted harder, faster into you, the sensation heightening with the added pressure he was giving. You could tell by the knot turning in your stomach that it wasn’t going to be long before you were coming for him again, and if Bradley had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time you did tonight. 

“Feelin’ so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. That’s my girl. That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, his confident demeanor melting away, leaving Bradley a pussy drunk, babbling mess, unable to say anything other than your praises, repeating your name over and over as if it was a spoken prayer.

“‘M not gonna last, honey,” Bradley shook his head as he moaned breathlessly.

Fuck.

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips slowed, stilling as he came inside of you. Bradley let out the deepest grunt you’d ever heard — the past six months of missing you drawing out of him along with it. Ducking his head down as he tried to catch his breath, his curls slicked and stuck to his forehead with sweat, he panted heavily, gently letting your legs go as you dropped them back down to the bed. He looked up at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your features as he nodded breathlessly.

“Fuck, I missed you, honey. I missed this, and you, and home.”

“Welcome home, Rooster. Welcome home.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x y/n

[theharddeck]

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

[spacecaravan]

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."

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

[dearcarmine]

top gun; maverick twt p!links

jake “hangman” seresin

him holding you in place as he fucks you

he’s too impatient, anywhere works

any excuse to wrap his hands around your throat

roped up for jake and fucked from the back

bradley “rooster” bradshaw

your ass is for him and him only

messy tongue kissing with rooster

ass kisses after getting held and fucked

appreciating your tits <3

mickey “fanboy” garcia

fanboy body worshipper

he can’t resist your tits

his chain danging as he eats you out <3

mick wants you close as he fingers you

pete “maverick” mitchell

fucking your throat after a round

mav holding you and fucking you, not being able to resist a slap or two

he makes your showers worthwhile

“like this,” he guides you

#ao3 #smut #p!link #twt #twt links #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick smut #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #mickey fanboy garcia #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #maverick smut #fanboy smut #top gun maverick p links #tom cruise #glen powell #miles teller #danny ramirez

[foreverrandomwritings]

Desperation

Summary: Work has been stressful and that left you wrongfully getting snippy with your boyfriends. They make sure to get the attitude out of you. Things go a little unplanned at the end. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x afab!Reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Warnings: GUYS THIS IS PURE FILTHY SMUT PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! MDNI 18+ ONLY! I’m not going to put every warning in here just know there’s a lot.

Word count: 5266

Masterlist 

You could barely remember how you got to this point. A puddle of mixed cum, saliva, tears and sweat. You knew however this was exactly what you needed. You had been stressed to the max at work all week. Working longer hours had you rolling through the door to scarf down dinner and crawl into bed. Your boyfriends had been patient with you, taking your attitude with a grain of salt. They had been making your breakfast, lunch and dinners. They even waited up for you to get home so they could make sure you ate dinner and got into bed snuggly. 

But tonight had been a tipping point for them. You were all supposed to go to The Hard Deck that night. Fanboy, Payback and Fritz had just gotten back from another successful mission and you were all meant to be celebrating. However you had started mouthing off to them over everything while you were getting ready. The stress of the week with no outlet for it had caused it to bottle up and the cap was slowly twisting off. The final straw was when Bradley had kindly reminded you that you needed to leave in fifteen minutes while you were in the middle of doing your hair. 

It was rare for both boys to be done getting ready before you were. They both spent forever on their hair and Jake also took forever picking out what to wear. You were normally fine throwing on jeans and a t-shirt with your hair in its natural state or a ponytail. Today however you wanted to look more confident. So you had spent time picking your outfit, put some mascara on and actually decided to do your hair. 

“Hey honey, just wanted to remind you that we have to be out the door by 5:45 if we want to get there by 6:00.” Bradley’s head popped around the doorframe as he spoke. You looked at him in the mirror with narrowed eyes. Fingers pausing their work on the braid you were twisting your hair into. 

“I will be out soon. Stop rushing me.” You winced as soon as the words left your mouth. You turned to apologize to him but the disappointed look on his face had you stopping in place. He shook his head at you, clicking his tongue as he did. 

“We’ve been extremely patient with you this week. We know how hard it is to have a crazy work schedule. But we won’t deal with the bratiness anymore.” His large body had come fully into the doorframe now, filling it up almost completely, his arms crossed along his chest. 

“I really didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” you started to move closer to him, hands falling from your hair, the strands unraveling as you did. 

“Not another word. I’m gonna call Jake in here and we’re gonna take care of that attitude of yours.” Your eyes widened at his words and you closed the gap between your bodies. Your hands came up to meet the rough skin of his arms, you placed them there gently looking into his eyes. 

“You don’t need to do that. I promise to behave the rest of the night. You don’t need to call for him.” You pouted your lips at him, hoping the puppy dog look would win him over. He was the softer one of the two and would often break against you first. You really wanted to go out to the bar tonight. You knew you almost had him when his shoulders relaxed and he let out a slow breath through his nose. 

“What are y’all doing in here? We gotta go, it's 5:47.” as Jake's voice filled your bedroom behind Bradley you knew you had lost. Bradley stepped back out of the bathroom causing both of your hands to drop from him. You twisted them both together sheepishly as Jake came to stand beside Bradley. 

“Either of you going to answer me or do I have to try and figure it out on my own?” Bradley looked at you expectantly but you averted your eyes to the tile of your bathroom floor. Jake and you had put the black and white porcelain down together while Bradley was on a weekend trip with Maverick. 

“You gonna tell him honey or do I need to?” Bradleys question had Jake stepping towards you. He put a thumb on your chin and his pointer finger underneath your chin. You tried to resist his hold as he brought your face upwards but the effort was fruitless. Your eyes met his blue ones and you started chewing on your bottom lip aggressively. 

“What do you need to tell me darling?” The softness of his words were a trick and you knew it. He was always the harder one of the two and the second you told him what happened you’d be in for it. 

“I’m sorry.” you said quietly, begging for forgiveness now in hopes they would take it easy on you later. 

“What are you sorry for?” His thumb came to run against the softness of your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked to Bradley over his shoulder and he nodded his head at you encouragingly. 

“I snapped at Bradley. But I didn’t mean to.” you watched as his tongue came out to lick across his lips and his hand dropped from your face. 

“We took such great care of you this week and you’ve been bratty nonstop. We’ve taken it easy on you because we knew you were stressed. But you know what happens when you’re a brat.” you pouted your lips at him even though you knew it wouldn't help at all. 

“We’re gonna fuck that attitude out of you so no need to worry.” Your stomach twisted into knots at his words. It had been a while since you had sex with either of the boys. The need had been there all week and now that the opportunity was presenting itself to you you were hesitant. They always made sure you were taken care of, but you knew you were in trouble this time. You sent a glare at Bradley for putting you in this situation and he gave you a wink in return.

“Don’t look at him like he’s the reason you’re in this situation.” his hand came into contact with your cheek in a mild slap, soft enough it didn’t hurt but hard enough to get your attention. 

“You put yourself here baby and you know it. You’re a big girl and you need to start acting like it.” Bradley’s the one who talked this time, voice raspy with lust. 

“Let’s take you to bed and we’ll get that stress out of you.” Jake didn’t give you a choice as he grabbed your hand and led you to the king size mattress, Bradley was quick to follow. A gasp left your lips as the blonde put his hands on your hips and tossed you unceremoniously onto the soft black and gray marble comforter. You bounced twice before finally stilling, hair laid out around your head messily. You had been thrown horizontally across the bed so your head was on one side and your feet on the other. 

“You won’t need these.” Bradley started to work your pants off you, unbuttoning them and wanking them down your legs. Jake stood behind him shedding his clothes. His cock was already half hard when he pulled his boxers down his legs. He rounded the bed to stand by your head and looked down at you. His cock was in one of his hand’s, stroking himself up and down slowly. You wetted your lips in anticipation looking at him as best you could from your upside down position. 

You felt Bradley’s large hands running up your legs and you looked down at him rising onto your elbows to do so. He looked down at your black lace underwear before looking back up at you. You started to protest what you knew he was about to do. You had lost way too many pairs of underwear due to the rough nature of the aviators. This time was going to be no different. Bradley gave you a sly smirk as he tore the material haphazardly. The sound of the material tearing had you throwing your head back against the bed exasperated. 

“That was my favorite pair.” you whined out to the blonde, he rolled his eyes at your words. 

“We’ll take you shopping for a new pair tomorrow.” Jake reassured you as you stared up at him. You frequented a little boutique up in town so much that Bradley’s card was on file and they knew you by name.  

“Color?” Bradley asked as he pried your legs apart, the cold air of the room meeting your already wet cunt caused a cold chill to go through your body. 

“Green.” you answered back quickly and assertively. That was all the taller man needed before he was licking, nipping and sucking the skin of your legs, his mustache tickling you the whole way. Your eyes screwed shut as he worked closer to where you needed him the most. 

“Oh f-f-fuck daddy.” Slipped through your lips as Bradley’s tongue swept through your folds. Your hands fisted the comforter below you harshly, legs already shaking from the feeling of him between your legs. 

“Scoot up a little bit.” Jake grunted out causing your eyes to snap open. You did as he instructed and shimmed up quickly, Bradley’s mouth chasing you as you did. One of his hands was wrapped around your thigh. You hung your head off the side of the bed opening your mouth expectantly. A moment passed without him moving and you whimpered out. 

“Did you forget how to ask?” He seemed disappointed in you which had a lump forming in your throat.

“Can I please suck your cock sir?” You asked him politely, barely getting the words out as Bradley sucked your clit between his lips softly, your eyes falling shut at the feeling. 

“Good girl.” Then his cock was in your mouth, the angle was awkward but you made it work. Tongue swirling around the tip, the taste of his precum taking over your mouth. He groaned when you hollowed your cheeks around him. You brought a hand up from the comforter to fondle his balls carefully. 

“You’re doing so good.” you moaned around him at the praise. Legs squeezing around Bradleys head as one of his hands came up to your center. He slipped two long fingers inside you slowly, scissoring them gently. He moaned into you when your other hand came down to pull his hair harshly. 

You could feel the familiar warmth building up as he continued his movements. Jake was working himself in and out of your mouth at a rougher pace than Bradley had set with his fingers. That was the usual dynamic Jake quick, rough and stern while Bradley was slow, gentle and playful. The only time Bradley was rough was after a bad day when he needed to let off some steam. Then the only time Jake was gentle was after rough missions, where he wasn’t sure he was going to make it back home to you. 

“You’re getting sloppy, princess.” You hadn’t meant to lose some of your focus on him but the orgasm building up within you had your brain becoming hazy. 

“You’re close aren’t you?” He asked you even though he already knew the answer. You moaned around him in reply. 

“You can cum.” you furrowed your brows at his words. Normally when you were bratty they would deny your orgasm and not let you have any. But you didn’t stay on the thought for long as your toes curled and climaxed around Bradleys fingers and on his tongue. You gagged around Jake as he shoved his cock to the back of your throat roughly. Stilling his movements and swearing quietly at the feeling of your throat closing around him. 

You had expected Bradley to stop once you had your orgasm but he only continued. Fingers continuing their scissoring motion and tongue continuing to lick your clit. You had tears in your eyes when Jake slipped from your mouth, hand falling away from his balls. Jake backed away as you blinked your eyes open. Your vision was a bit blurry with all the blood rushing to your head. 

“What’s your color Princess?” Jake's voice was even and calm, you opened your mouth to answer when Bradley added a third finger sweeping them in a come hither motion. You let out a pathetic whine instead, knuckles turning white as you gripped his hair. 

“Bradley, knock it off for a second.” Bradley hummed into your wet folds in reply, slowing his movements slightly. 

“Green, my color is green.” you spat the words out, one of your hands coming up to your breast. You palmed it through the shirt and bra you had on roughly. You watched Jake walk to the bedside table that held most of your toys which was conveniently right next to him. He pulled the drawer open and grabbed out a little bag. He opened it quickly before retrieving a dark blue ring from it. He rolled it down the length of his cock settling it into place. He slipped out a dark red one and wrapped it around 2 of his fingers. That one would be given to Bradley when he was done between your legs. 

“How many should we give her, Rooster.” You could feel the hand that was wrapped around your thigh move away momentarily but you didn’t have the sense to lift your head to look at the five fingers he held up. 

“I think that’s doable. We’ve already got one done.” Jake climbed onto the foot of the bed next to you sitting on his legs, cock proudly on display. Your head was still dangling off the side of the bed and the blood rush was starting to make you loopy. Jake must have realized this with his instruction for Bradley to move you back down the bed. Bradley did so quickly, using the hand around your thigh to tug you down. 

“Get off that.” Jake slapped your hand away from your breast at the words. 

“Sir.” You pleaded with him, eyes zeroing in on his tanned body. 

“Be patient.” He scolded you, you didn’t have to be patient too long as he pulled your shirt and bra off your upper body quickly. You placed your hand back into Bradley’s hair as he threw the clothes somewhere in the room. He brought a hand to your breast, rolling your already hard nipple between his rough fingers. You hissed when he pulled back and smacked it harshly. 

“What was that for?” You asked him breathlessly, his answer was another harsh slap right at the same time that Bradley sucked your clit again. You hadn’t expected the orgasm that ripped through you as the pain and pleasure intertwined deliriously. 

“Yellow.” you whispered out, your clit was over stimulated and needed a break. Bradley gave your clit one last little lick before he was reluctantly pulling away. His mustache, mouth and chin were all covered in your slick. It was at that moment you realized that neither of them had kissed you yet. 

“You okay baby girl?” Bradley was stroking your thighs as Jake stroked your hair. 

“Need a just a minute to recover.” Your chest was heaving as you came down from the high that just overtook your body. You closed your eyes for a few seconds trying to get your bearings. When you opened them again you saw Bradley and Jake with their lips locked together. Bradley was standing and had a hand on the back of Jake’s head and Jake was stroking himself again.

“Please” you begged them, the word coming out whiner than you intended it to. But it reflected the desperation you were feeling perfectly. You weren’t sure if you were desperate for one of them to kiss you or if you were already desperate for their touch again. 

“What does the whiney little princess want now?” Jake teased you as he pulled away from Bradley, a string of saliva and cum connected them together briefly. You ignored his words and turned your attention to Bradley. He gave you a big smile and grabbed your hand when you reached it out to him. 

“Can I have a kiss daddy?” you asked him, pouting your lips and fluttering your eyelashes seductively. He let out a loud laugh and placed one knee on the bed between your legs. He braced himself with his hands on either side of you as he came to hover above you. You used his clothes as an advantage, gripping the white tank top between your fingers and pulling him down to you. You could taste your cum, the spearmint of Jake from his toothpicks and the mustache oil that Bradley used within the kiss. 

He started the kiss slowly, lips colliding softly but you wanted more. You nipped at his bottom lip and rolled your cunt up into his clothed thigh. He didn’t part his lips as you had hoped he would and you realized he was playing a little game. Trying to see how desperate you would get for him to give in. You threaded a hand through his hair and pulled on it roughly. He groaned into your mouth and you used that opportunity to slip your tongue into his. You grinned into the kiss victoriously. Jake cleared his throat loudly and you both pulled away from each other reluctantly. 

“Thank you daddy.” You gave him a final peck on the lips before turning to look at Jake. 

“Don’t you think daddy has far too many clothes on?” He seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding his head. 

“Far too many clothes, princess.” You both turned your gaze to your shared boyfriend who was still hovering above you. 

“Alright I got it, I’ll get undressed.” Bradley huffed out at you exasperatedly. He backed up and stood, quickly shedding off his clothes leaving you and Jake to stare at him eagerly. 

“This is for you.” Jake took the red cock ring off his fingers and handed it to Bradley. He hissed lowly as he rolled it down his already throbbing cock, the tip leaking precum and bright red. 

“Are you going to fuck me daddy?” you asked him innocently when he got the ring into place. He shook his head at you and Jake grinned. 

“I wanna watch him fuck you into this matress baby girl. Then I’ll fuck you nice and slow, promise.” Jake beamed at him before climbing over your body to situate himself between your legs. You spread them open for him knowing he didn’t like to ask. 

“Your pretty little cunt already looks so spent Princess. Daddy did a good job taking care of you.” Bradley gave out a thankful grunt at the praise, settling himself in the armchair of your room. You had the idea to put it there for nights like these. Where you weren’t intertwined with each other but one of you preferred to watch the others. It was the perfect view of the bed and fit Bradley’s large frame comfortably. 

“You gonna take good care of me sir?” you already knew he would but Jake was a sucker for dirty talk. 

“Always, princess.” His fingers came to sweep through your folds collecting the slick still there and rubbing it along his length. He laid a heavy hand on your inner thigh and dipped his head down slightly. You felt the warmth of his spit on your cunt before his fingers mixed it with your cum. 

“Who made you this wet princess?” It was a rhetorical question and you all knew it but you answered anyway. 

“You and daddy, sir.” You pulled your lip in between your teeth as he probed the tip of his cock at your entrance. 

“Good girl.” He punctuated the sentence with a quick thrust, seething himself inside you. You were thankful that Bradley had worked you open so well with his fingers earlier. He wrapped a hand around your throat and your fingers flew up to dig into the flesh of his bicep. 

“Green?” You nodded in reply, unable to form words with his hand around your throat and the feeling of him filling you up so nicely. 

“What did we do to deserve such a beauty, Bradshaw?” You blushed at his words. No matter how many times he complimented you it still made you feel breathtaking. 

“I don’t know but I know we ain’t ever gonna let her go.” an inaudible moan slipped from your mouth at his reply, the assurance of your future making your walls clamp around Jake.

“Did you like that Princess?” Jake hummed at you pulling out and slamming back in. You groaned out in reply, eyes glancing over towards your brunette boyfriend. But you couldn’t see him with the way Jake was wrapped around your throat. 

“Want us to make you our wife one day?” He pulled back out and thrusted back in. Your grip on his bicep tightened, crescent shapes impeded in his skin from your finger nails. Eyes squeezing shut, willinging yourself to stay still, to let Jake take complete control. 

“We’ll make you our wife, just got to be patient.” Then he was pulling back out and thrusting back in. His hips slamming in and out of you at a hurried pace, his hand squeezed around your neck lightly and the room was a mix of noises, whimpers, moans, groans, praises and slapping noises. The coil inside of you was so close to coming apart but you just needed more. You opened your eyes to see Jake already looking at you. He seemed to read your mind as the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat floated down between your bodies. His thumb circling your clit with the same pace as his thrusts. 

“Come on princess. Cum on my cock.” Jake’s encouragement was all it took for the coil to snap. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, legs spasming as he continued to fuck you through your climax. He let go of your throat and pulled out of you with a deep groan, rolling the cock ring off himself. He stroked himself once, then twice, then a third time before his cum shot out over your aching cunt. You stared up at the ceiling, ears buzzing. You hadn’t even noticed Jake crawl off the bed and Bradley take his place until you felt Bradley’s large hand brush some of your hair off your sweaty forehead. 

“Where’d he go?” the words came out a scratchy slurred mess, it was a miracle that Bradley understood what you were saying. 

“He went to get stuff ready for the aftercare baby girl.” You nodded at him weakly, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. 

“Will you fill me up daddy?” the emptiness you felt had tears forming in your eyes.

“You sure? We can stop now.” You knew he meant it, but you also knew he hadn’t cum yet and you wanted to feel him cum inside of you. 

“Still on green daddy and I want to feel you inside me. Please.” You begged him, voice tear filled at your desperation. 

“Alright baby girl, I’ve got you.” He wiggled an arm under your back wrapping it around your waist. He moved himself so he was sitting with his back amongst the pillows and headboard of your large bed. You were placed on his lap carefully. He gave you a moment to take a deep breath before lifting your hips and lowering you onto his cock. He buried his head in your neck as your cum covered cunt squeezed around his cock. 

“Feels so good daddy. I love when you and sir fill me with your cocks.” You weren’t sure how you formed the sentence but you were thankful that you did. Bradley sucked a mark into your neck before slowly moving your hips in a back and forth motion. Every brush of your clit along the well groomed skin of his pelvis had you sucking in a breath. 

He pulled his head out from your neck and brought a hand up to your breast. He held it in his calloused hand, palming it gently. You groaned loudly, throwing your head back when his mouth came around your nipple. The wet feeling of his tongue flicking the bud had you squeezing your legs around his waist as best you could. You brought a hand to the back of his head holding it in place. 

“Daddy.” you had tears streaming down your face as another climax approached you. Your stomach was tight and your chest was heaving. Your head was swimming in euphoria. 

“It’s alright daddy’s got you. Go ahead.” He pulled away from your chest to get the sentence out before focusing on your other breast. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The word tumbled out of your mouth like a prayer. You clenched around him harshly, his hands continued to pull you back and forth. He groaned and you felt his cum painting your walls. He must have taken his cock ring off at some point while Jake was buried inside of you earlier. 

“You look so fucking gorgeous making a mess on me baby girl.” Bradley’s voice brought you back down to earth. You pulled his head back harshly, meeting his lips with your own. He matched your languid pace, dipping his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your quiet blissed out sobs. 

“You get another one from her?” Jake spoke from beside the both of you. You pulled apart and reached for him, but stayed in your place on Bradley’s lap. 

“Kiss please.” was all you said and he nodded at you understandingly. You always liked to kiss them after a long and intense session. It made you feel connected to the pair in ways they’d never fully grasp no matter how many times you tried to explain it to them. His lips met your own and he kissed you slowly tongue dipping out to run along your lips but never trying to slip any farther. 

“She’s still got one more to go.” Bradleys large hands squeezed your waist and you pulled back from Jake.

“I’m gonna go ahead and jump into the shower, join me when you’re done.” You also liked to have one on one time with the both of them. Bradley slowly pulled you off him, your mixed cum dripped down your legs onto his lap as you went. You blubbered wantonly and tried to grip onto him.  

“Take a deep breath. You’ll see me soon. You’re gonna spend some time with Jake babygirl.” Your brain finally caught up with what was happening and you reached for Jake weakly. 

“There ya go princess I got you.” Jake’s voice was soothing as he whispered into your ear. He held you as Bradley climbed out of the bed. The tall man moved into the bathroom swiftly and you heard the shower turn on then Jake was laying you back on the bed. Your legs dangling loosely over the side of the bed. In the same position as when you first started. 

“I’m gonna clean up our mess. Is that alright?” You couldn’t form any words so you reached for his hand and squeezed it. 

“Are you green?” You squeezed his hand again and he gave you a wink before dropping to his knees. He threw your legs over his shoulders and blew a puff of cold air into your wet folds. You brought your hand to his head and pushed on it weakly. He huffed out a laugh before he dove between your legs. Where Bradley was soft and gentle Jake was frantic and rough. He lapped at you hungrily, tongue fucking you like you were his last meal. You screamed out as your fifth climax of the night ripped through you unexpectedly. Your vision went white and everything around you went silent. 

When you came to you felt two pairs of hands on you and warm water running down your back. Your legs were wrapped around someone and their hands were holding you to them. Your arms thrown around their neck lazily. You dug your face into the neck of the person holding you and brushed against a set of scars and you knew it was Bradley. So that meant that Jake’s hands had to have been the ones rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.

“What happened?” your voice came out small barely above a whisper. 

“We lost you there for a minute.” Bradley’s chest rumbled against your own as he spoke.  

“Had us worried darlin’.” Jake's southern twang was thick as it usually was after sex. 

“I’m alright. Just a little hungry.” your sentence was solidified with your stomach growling. Both of them chuckled at the noise. You kissed Bradley’s neck a couple of times before turning to Jake. He had a sad look in his eyes that slowly went away when you smiled at him. 

“You didn’t know it was going to happen Jakey. I’m okay now. You took care of me and that’s all that matters. I love you.” He gave you a weak smile and stepped closer to you to give you a chaste kiss. 

“I love you too.” He pecked your lips between each word. 

“I love you too Brad.” His nose scrunched up at the nickname you had bestowed upon him. 

“I also love you Brad.” His eyes narrowed at Jake which earned him a shit eating grin. 

“I regretfully love you both for some unknown reason.” you and Jake both gasped at his words. 

“Not to interrupt the sentiment but our doordash should be here soon. So we need to be done here soon.” Jake must have ordered the food while you and Bradley were together. The boys helped you wash your hair and your body. Bradley had already showered before you had gotten in there and Jake washed himself quickly before stepping out of the shower, he wrapped himself in his towel. Then Bradley stepped out and Jake wrapped you in a towel before taking you from his arms. Even though you insisted you could walk. 

“I’m gonna go grab our clothes from the dryer and put the comforter in the washer.” It was a ritual for one of them to put the clothes in the dryer so you would all feel warm and cozy after sex. It proved to be one of your favorite aftercare activities. Jake set you down carefully before drying himself off and gathering up underwear for the three of you. Bradley slipped back into the room tossing Jake your clothes and grabbing your towels. He hung them back on the towel warmer Jake had insisted on purchasing. 

You slipped on your underwear and the moomoo with Jake and Bradley’s face all over it that they had gifted you for your last birthday. Jake slipped on his boxers and sweatpants. Bradley came back and slipped on his boxers and crewneck before he swept you up throwing you over his shoulder. The doorbell rang as you entered the living room and Jake went and grabbed the food. You all sat on the couch eating your sushi and watching The Sorcerers Apprentice, all the stress from earlier gone from your mind. 

A/N: I spent literally forever wrtiting this and didn’t go to bed until about 2:45 am. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments very much appreciated. 

Tags(open): @wkndwlff​ @sylviebell​ @eternallyvenus​ @loving-and-dreaming​ @princess76179​ @kmc1989​ @qjdjjexnsk​ @gspenc​ 

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[valhallaas]

That’s My Girl

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x sunshine!reader

word count: 3.1k

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

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

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

Part 2

Part 3

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

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

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

“Is free labor included in that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hangman,”

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

“What’s got y’all here?”

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

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

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

“Who you looking for, Sunshine?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“Can always stir the pot,”

You blink. “What?”

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

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

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

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

“What are we going to do, exactly?”

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

“Go pick out a song. Let’s dance.”

“Dance?”

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

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

“Honey, you are playing dirty.”

“You started it.”

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

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

“You are asking for trouble.”

An eyebrow raises. “Pot, meet kettle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Sunshine.”

“Hi Rooster.”

“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

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

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

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

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

“That why your lipstick is on his mouth?”

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

“What does that mean?”

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

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

“Did she say that?”

“Say what?”

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

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

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

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

***

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

“You look good, flower.”

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

He huffs. “The dress is really something,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it, that’s my girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Yes, I–Rooster, fuck,”

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

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

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

“So, Bradshaw, how was she?”

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

[bradshawsbitch]

songbird | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

masterlist | part two

i am dedicating this fic of filth to my sweet sweet friend @rolycolysficrecs who puts up with me and let's me scream about linguistics and biting to her&lt;3

description: Bradley and you have rented a cabin for a winter getaway. Maybe the seclusion and beauty will offer new experiences?

disclaimer: explicit smut. 18+ minors dni!!!

warnings: afab!reader, explicit smut, mentions ptsd, mental health mentions, mentions of scars, mentions of stretch marks (m and f), oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, body worship (m and f receiving), daddy kink, nipple play, emotional sex, sub space, tears, choking if you squint, minor breeding kink, aftercare, ab riding, slight hair pulling

word count: ~7K

tagging people who might like: @roosterforme @mak-32 @theharddeck @lt-bradshaw @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @notroosterbradshaw @currentlybradshaw @bradleyssweetheart

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for you, there’ll be no more crying.

The sweet sounds of Christine McVie’s lyrics permeated the air of the small wooden cabin, the light crackling of the vinyl player further emphasizing the serene ambience of the candle lit living room. Rooster was stood in the adjoining kitchen, preparing two cups of irish coffee, currently stirring the hot coffee - the soft clinks of the spoon hitting the sides of the cups soothing you as you sat on the sofa in front of the open fire. 

Outside the window, large flakes of snow were falling from the skies, like fluffy cotton balls that engulfed the earth, covering it in a heavy weighted blanket. As you glanced at your boyfriend, your heart ached with love for him. It had been a heavy night and start of the day for him.

Usually you could hardly tell that Rooster had had a bit of a rough go at life, and that his work sometimes put him under immense stressors. He took it in stride, spreading his unconditional joy without abandon. But some days, like this one, he just couldn’t give anymore. And that was perfectly alright. He never told you, but you could recognize the signs well enough by now. 

It was December, and the holidays were coming up, which you knew were sometimes a hard time for Rooster. The two of you had barely had any sleep during your first night in the cabin you’d rented for the week - it happened sometimes when there was a change of scenery for Bradley, when he wasn’t on the job. 

It was like his body somehow refused to relax, and therefore replayed stressful events to kickstart his fight or flight, just in case. After having lived with Rooster for some time, you’d learnt how to best deal with your partner as he woke up in a cold sweat, or when he laid awake for hours - sleep evading him until the early morning hours.

It was like his body somehow refused to relax, and therefore replayed stressful events to kickstart his fight or flight, just in case. After having lived with Rooster for some time, you’d learnt how to best deal with your partner as he woke up in a cold sweat, or when he laid awake for hours - sleep evading him until the early morning hours.

You knew what it was like to love him through it all. You never tired of holding him when he needed it, never tired of gently wiping his tears away and soothing his frayed nerves. Never tired of talking soothingly to him, never tired of trying to gauge what sort of reaction he would have when he came to. Although you knew he thought you were beginning to tire of it. 

You wanted to tell him, much like Christine sang, that it was alright. You loved him. All of him. Quirks, happy and sad, and you could never tire of trying to make him the happiest he could be. 

Looking up at your boyfriend as you heard him whip cream by hand for your drinks, you were once again overwhelmed by the feelings that sprang from somewhere deep within your chest - taking in his tall and broad form.

Bradley might be tall and broad, but you knew that he must feel very small right now - and you wanted him to know that it was okay to be small sometimes, it was okay to not withstand and push through it all. It was okay to rest. He could rest with you. But you knew, deep down, that your words wouldn’t be enough to convince him - so you were going to have to show him. 

for you, the sun will be shining. 

Sitting down next to you, Bradley gingerly put your irish coffees down on the low table in front of the cozy sofa. Sighing softly, he tried to let his body relax into the cushions, his upper body leaning heavily against the backrest - palms going up to rub at his eyes. He’d slept horribly, and he woke you up because of his sitting upright with a strangled gasp that bordered on a groan from his nightmare. 

As usual, his too-good-for-him girlfriend had held him close to her chest as he rambled anxiously, keeping his palm over her steady heartbeat to soothe him and help ground him. It always worked, which ticked Bradley off. Of course he was thankful, but he was so tired of not being able to manage it on his own. He’d finally fallen asleep, his head on your chest, counting your heartbeats and matching his breaths to yours, your fingers in his hair, soothing him.  

“How’re we feeling, honeypie?” your soft voice broke the silence that had stretched in the cabin. Those words alone had indignant tears burning behind Bradley’s closed lids. Why? Why did you caring so much for him make his chest ache like this? 

“I–” Bradley had to stop himself, his voice nearly breaking from emotion, shaking his head and swallowing. Your soft body soon crawled over to him, straddling his bare thighs, settling on top of his boxer-clad lap. At the feeling of your weight pressing against his chest, feeling your soothing hands smooth over his navy blue hoodie, Bradley let out a shuddering breath, a tear slowly falling from his closed lids at last. 

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know that?” God, the sweeter you were about his bad day, the more he felt like breaking apart. “I know,” he choked out “I just so badly wanted this time to go well,” Bradley confessed, feelings of shame and disappointment rolling over him like powerful tides.

“I know, sweetheart,” you murmured against his pulse point. “You do know that one bad day does not mean that this trip is in any way ruined right?” his heavy sigh told you that he did not know that. 

“Bradley,” the way his name rolled so softly off of your lips had his heart stuttering, and as he felt your palms cradling his cheeks, he dared open his amber eyes to meet your loving gaze. “Every moment I get to spend with you is a moment I love. Of course, I love seeing my beautiful, happy Rooster - but you, Bradley, are the most important.” his girl took a beat, letting the words sink in before continuing “I will love you in every which way you come, okay?” 

Was this unconditional love? The feeling of being loved even though you felt wholly unlovable? 

“It must be hard, loving me,” Bradley couldn’t help but air out some of the fears that plagued him sometimes when he was on his lonesome, with no one to distract him from his own head. To his surprise, an airy, light laughter fell from your lips as you smiled down at him

“Darling, loving you is as easy as breathing,” your voice was warm with tenderness “besides, I’ve heard that the hardest ones to love, are the ones who need it most,” 

A long, ragged breath escaped from Bradley’s throat, some of the tears that had nestled in between his eyelashes slowly rolling down his scarred cheeks as he looked at you. The furrow of his brow was still there, and you reached out to softly let your thumb grace over the crease. He did feel like he needed love. He needed your love, and it scared him. Because if he needed you to feel good - what would he do when you weren’t there anymore?

“Can I show you all my love?” you whispered, eyes flitting fast over his face, as if you were drinking him in, afraid he might evaporate into thin air if you took your eyes off of him for too long. Bradley didn’t quite understand what you meant, so he just nodded. 

and i feel that when i’m with you, it’s alright… i know it’s right

Your hands left their perch on top of his shoulders, slowly ghosting down his arms, softly playing with the hem of the bottom of his hoodie. The slight cold touch of your fingertips against his bare lower abdomen had him sucking in a small breath of air, but you just continued further up - fingertips grazing across his abs, the fabric of his shirt bunching on your forearms.

As your palms reached his pectorals, Bradley got the hint and reached his arms over his head to let you remove his clothing for him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. 

Tender eyes gazed at his upper body, and Bradley’s brown eyes held an unreadable emotion within them as they took in the sight of you admiring him. Your smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he had to take another deep breath to steady himself as your palms caressed the sides of his waist. Slowly, you slipped off of his lap, down to your knees below the sofa. 

Bradley was surprised when all you did for a few moments was caressing and massaging his thighs, just settling in between his knees, looking up at him with those loving eyes. 

“I’ll love all of you, Bradley,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his left knee. A spot where he knew his skin was scuffed from the many times he had slid on it to reach a base during baseball practice years ago. It was rather faded, but still visible if you knew where to look. Obviously, you did know. Your ever moving hands had slid upwards, slipping underneath the fabric of his black boxer shorts, softly massaging his upper thighs. 

A soft groan slipped past Bradley’s lips as his head tilted slightly backwards at your ministrations. All too soon, your hands disappeared to linger at the waistband of his underwear, inching them downwards. Bradley was all too happy to help you slide them off, and he raised his hips slightly to get them down his legs. 

Bradley softly tucked his lower lip in between his teeth at the sight of you kneeling in front of him. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed about the fact that you already had him half hard. However, you didn’t seem to be on the type of mission Bradley had originally thought. You only kept your eyes on his, smiling softly as he furrowed his brow in confusion. 

Instead, you leaned forward, letting your lips connect with his thighs, hands placed just above his knees. Your mouth ghosted over his hot skin, your breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. As your face neared his v-line, you let your lips land at the junction of his hip and thigh, and the sensation of the soft touch sent a shiver down Roosters spine along with the softest of pretty moans. 

Your nose was tracing along the side of his hip, before you slowly inched your lips and tongue towards his lower abdomen. At the sensation of your tongue licking and softly sucking at the skin near his happy trail, Bradley let out a long, breathy moan - his cock twitching at the pleasurable touch. 

“Does that feel good, Bradley?” you hummed softly against his skin, your upper body slotted between his thick thighs, your hands now steadying themselves on his waist, your forearms pressed close to his body as your nose and mouth pressed against the skin right by his navel.

“So good, baby… oh god,” Bradley moaned breathlessly. 

The feeling of the muscles in his abdomen tightening and relaxing made a rush of heat flow like a steady, warm stream to your very core, and you bit your lip softly as you gazed up at your blissed out boyfriend. His large hands had rested on your shoulders, where his thumbs gently stroked over the exposed skin where his large t-shirt hung slightly off your shoulder. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his skin, your lips sealing your words into the space where they had hit him below his ribs. Your hands soon covered his larger ones, gently guiding one of them so that your lips could press against his palm, and then his wrist, your other hand ghosting over his forearm - fingertips softly touching all of the little scars he’d got from the regular wear and tear of life. Signs of being alive.

You stroked a larger scruff, where you knew he’d gotten burnt once trying to help Mav with his jet, placing a gentle kiss to the mark before moving on to his bicep. Suddenly, the palm of your hand felt rather small as it stretched over his muscle, gripping slightly to feel the soft skin. Bradley was practically vibrating at the sensations you were giving him, his breaths becoming shallow and the occasional sharp intake of air could be heard through the silent cabin.

Lips pressed softly against the stretch marks that had accumulated where Bradley’s bicep met his chest, you hummed softly at the feeling of your body pressed up against his. His warmth seeped into your every pore as you loved him. Kissing his sternum softly, you looked up at him with a soft smile, and you were sad to see his amber eyes filled with an unreadable emotion swirling within them, tears sitting unshed on his lash line. 

“Is it too much?” you murmured, concerned, gently cradling his right cheek in your hand. Bradley immediately leant into your touch, shaking his head. “I really like how it feels,” Bradley’s voice was gravelly as he confessed, filled with emotion. Your smile soothed him, and your heart clenched at his answer. Did he mean your touch? Or your unconditional love? Either way, it tugged at your heartstrings. 

and i love you, i love you, i love you - like never before

Placing your hands on the top of his knees again, you slowly rose to straddle his lap once more, letting a soft moan slip from your lips as you felt him hard against you. Bradley’s soft release of air, his head tilting back to expose his neck and throat to you, did nothing to alleviate the burning heat in your abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured against Rooster's skin, lips pressed against his left shoulder, where another mark sat upon his skin. This one was larger, a little jagged, and you paid it as much attention as the other marks - giving it a soft kiss before moving up towards the junction of his neck and shoulder. There you ventured to softly let your tongue out to taste the warm skin, gently sucking the tan skin into your mouth momentarily, leaving the faintest of your own marks on his skin. 

As you had left kisses up the side of his neck, you pulled back to look into his eyes - pupils slightly dilated and chest heaving slightly, you never thought Bradley had looked so breathtaking before. 

“I love you.” the statement was final, and he would have to take that as it was - the truth. It looked as if something clicked into place in Bradley’s eyes, as your thumb stroked the long scar across his throat, sliding up to softly caress the marks on his chin, before playfully ghosting over his bottom lip. Breaking the eye contact with Bradley, you finally let your lips leave butterfly kisses all along the left side of his face, ending up with your forehead pressed against his, lips hovering above his. 

“Thank you,” Bradley spoke softly. His large hand had snaked up to cradle the back of your head, the other one settled on your hip. Smiling, you pressed a slow kiss to his lips, wanting to taste him fully. His tongue skillfully met yours in a slow, sensual kiss that took the breath out of you entirely. The hand that had moved to stroke the back of your head had tangled into your hair, softly massaging and tugging as his tongue moved against yours - eliciting soft whimpers and moans from you.

His hands slowly reached beneath the large t-shirt that hung off of your frame, his large, warm hands caressing the cool skin that sat underneath, lingering on the spot just above your hips, gently kneading the skin there, before his hands moved further up. Thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts.

A soft whimper rolled from your lips at the sensation; even though you were determined that this venture was all about Bradley. So after only a few short moments of feeling his large hands massaging your tits slowly, and a few soft moans escaping from your lips, you softly push his hands away. Swiftly you removed yourself from your boyfriend's lap, sinking down onto your knees in between his thighs again.

“I’m not done loving you,” you smiled a little, and Bradley quirked a brow, a soft smile on his own lips to match yours. “Is that so?” he murmured, gently cupping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly. 

Licking your lips, you slowly sank down onto the balls of your heels, taking in the sight before you. Bradley was sat naked on the large, stretched out couch, head tilted slightly back as your hand wrapped around his now fully hard cock. 

“So pretty,” you murmured softly, and Bradley huffed out a breathless laugh, almost embarrassed. Deciding to finish worshiping your boyfriends body as it had started, you pressed hungry kisses against his thighs, working your way upwards. This time, however, you decided to leave tiny little bite marks here and there - teeth sinking into the warm skin softly. Those actions rewarded you with sounds from your lover that had you clenching and almost whimpering with need.

Just before you were about to worship the last body part you had left, Bradley’s hand caressed your cheek lovingly, before moving to settle in your hair. The feeling of his strong hold against your scalp had you whimpering louder, and that familiar feeling of being completely safe engulfed you - as it often did when you were intimate with Bradley. He always took good care of you. 

“There’s my good girl,” Bradley rumbled, his voice so deep and raspy you nearly lost yourself to his touch, legs clenching together to relieve the ache that had settled deep within you. His words had fire spreading through your core, up your midsection, settling deep in your chest - his words an anchor and a familiar safety that allowed you complete relaxation, complete surrender and serenity; the very thing you were trying to offer Bradley. 

Finally, you pressed open mouthed kisses on the base of his length as it rested against his abdomen. Bradley let a long moan flow from his throat, and you could almost see some of the tension escape out of his body at your touch. Licking up the length of his hardness, you felt all the silky ridges and veins underneath your tongue and hands.

Wrapping your lips around his hardened dick, you slowly took him deeper and deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling softly against the silky skin, letting your tongue explore all the veins and ridges in full. Bradley’s stuttered moan made you hollow your cheeks slightly, sucking him further into your warm, wet mouth. The hold on your hair tightened ever so slightly, and you could feel that Bradley was trying hard not to buck up into your mouth, his hips jolting ever so slightly. 

You could almost feel yourself losing yourself in him, as you so often did. That small sliver of resilience almost slipping from you, as you heard his pleasure, felt him throb in your mouth. A small whimper started in your throat, and your eyelids fluttered close to not make it too obvious that your eyes were starting to water and almost roll back from the soothing feeling of having him in your mouth, having him love you and hearing his soft moans envelop you like a blanket.  

Licking up his length, you nuzzled for a moment where his thigh met his hips to catch your breath, placing a fluttering kiss to the sensitive skin. Trying so bad to not slip, because this isn’t about you, this is about your love for Bradley - showing him how much he means to you. Yet, Bradley seems to notice - can tell so instinctively what you need, and what he needs too. 

Soft, warm hands pull you upwards, close to his chest before he settles you on his lap again, straddling one of his thighs momentarily.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, the bristles of his mustache lightly scratching where his lips explored. His hands grace down your arms before they squeeze your waist lovingly, gliding up to softly cup your breasts over the fabric of his worn and soft t-shirt.

A sigh tumbled from your parted lips, and Bradley’s right there, humming softly in encouragement. His hands slowly glide down your waist, to your hips, where he for just a moment guides them to rut slowly against his muscular thigh, drawing a strangled gasp from your parted lips.

“You love me so, so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs as his hands move slowly upwards again, massaging your sensitive breasts, drawing soft mewls and whimpers from you - his fingers occasionally brushing your hardening nipples. 

“My pretty baby,” he smiles, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose to gain better access to the skin below your ear, his lips softly latching on to lick and kiss at your pulse point. 

Your needy whine was met by a pleased groan that rumbled from deep within Bradley’s chest, and his naked body pressed hard into yours at the sound, the hot breath that fanned over your neck again making it so hard not to melt into his touch. 

“Bradley–” you sighed in protest, wanting to try to hold on to the small semblance of control you had had on the situation just moments ago. But Bradley only made soft shushing noises, covering your lips with his as his tongue slid over your bottom lip before gently taking it between his teeth. After drawing yet another breathy whimper from you, Rooster let go of your bottom lip to whisper softly in your ear 

“You take such great care of me, honey… will you let me care for you?” 

His teeth gently graces your earlobe, before his lips kiss softly just behind it. In that moment it almost feels like everything falls away except for Bradley. The snow whirling outside the windows doesn’t exist anymore. The crackling fire dancing over the logs in the fireplace are all at once running through your body like liquid water, not actually in the fireplace at all. Though Bradley’s touch resembles the soothing of the cold snow outside that satiates the burn. His hands have snuck underneath your shirt, lifting it above your head and discarding it on the wooden floors.

His lips latch on to your nipples, tongue swirling slowly in circles over the lacy fabric of your thin bra. Head tilted back in pleasure, his name is heard like a prayer to the heavens as it tumbles from your lips. 

His large palm is softly grasping your breast, kneading it gently as his mouth works kisses and licks onto the swell of it. His other hand reaches back to unlatch the clasp, gently helping you drag it down your arms, until it joins your forgotten shirt on the floor. 

“It’s my turn now,” Bradley hums, the small, but genuinely happy smile on his face making tears burn behind your eyelids. Strong hands lifts you from your spot on his thigh, gently laying you down on the soft plaid that was placed on the seat of the couch. Slowly he lowers himself down your body, his nose teasingly fluttering against your skin, his lips sporadically leading the way. 

Soon enough he’s leaning between your thighs, a tight grasp on your calf as he raises it to rest on his well muscled shoulder. There he places a soft kiss, his fingers gracing the outside of your calf, his lips kissing a trail to your knee, where a jagged scar marres your skin from where it had been mended years earlier.

Like you, he gives it a soft kiss of adoration before he continues his journey - stopping to love on the slightly pink and purple toned stretch marks on your thighs. Your breath is unsteady, and you almost feel as if you’re floating - the sensations Bradley is providing the only thing that’s keeping you from slipping. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay… I’ve got you, love,” Bradley murmurs as he settles, his chest resting in between your spread legs, your thighs slung over his broad shoulders as your whines and whimpers of pleas get all the more frantic. Bradley’s hot breath hitting your clothed core has you licking your lips in anticipation, breath stuttering pitifully in your throat. He hasn’t even touched you yet. 

“So pretty… is it all for me, honey?” Rooster rumbles, amber eyes so filled with lust and love, connecting with yours; taking in the pout on your face, the neediness of your eyes, the heaving of your chest and your soft whimper as you nod fervently at his question. He groans, the sight enough to have him rutting his hard cock once into the cushions of the sofa. 

“Please, Roos– baby, I need you,” your soft plea has Bradley choking on a breath before he presses his lips hard against your lace clad core, tongue darting out to tease the wetness beneath it. “Anything my baby needs,” he mumbles, as he pushes the delicate fabric aside, sinking his long finger into your wet core. A sigh of relief, followed by a small moan rolls from your lips. 

“Good girl,” Bradley hums, his lips softly slotting over your clit as his finger pump slowly in and out of you. He’s sucking and licking at you, swirling his tongue with just the right amount of pressure to have you moaning and gasping. Retracting his finger, his large palms massage the outside of your thighs as he buries his face further into your slick cunt, his tongue slowly sliding downwards to tease at your hole, the tip just slightly slipping in and out and around making you grasp Bradley’s locks hard, giving an involuntary jerk of your wrist at the slow waves of pleasure rolling through you.

Suddenly Roosters’ tongue slips in and he’s properly fucking you with his tongue, his stubbled chin brushing against the delicate skin around your core, and his nose and mustache brushing and teasing your clit. 

The pleasure that’s building in your core threatens to snap, the heat from the crackling fire seeming to have moved to your insides - embers sparking in your veins as every sensation but the feeling of Rooster fades away. Squeezing your eyes shut, you gently push Bradley’s head away from your weeping core, a soft whine leaving your lips as you do so. Bradley just mouths hungrily at the inside of your thighs for a few moments, before he’s caught his breath and continues his exploration of your body that’s laid bare for him.

Bradley’s hands leave the comfortable spot they’ve had, massaging your soft thighs to continue their exploration. Fingertips ghost over chilled skin, softly tracing patterns into your hips before his palm splays across your lower stomach momentarily.

Mustache and lips pressing gentle kisses that spread warmth wherever they caress. Bradleys lips works against your skin, finding freckles, spots and small marks wherever he can - loving them just as easily as you had his. As his hands found a new resting place, holding tight to your waist, his lips once again lavished over your breasts.

Soft mewls left you as Roosters lips closed around your nipple, his tongue working slowly across it before he suckled lightly, pulling the soft flesh into his mouth over and over again. Gasps and needy moans tore from your chest as your body started to squirm, thighs clenching together to alleviate the flaming desire Bradley had awoken in your body. 

Rooster seemed oblivious to it though, moaning against your chest as his palm massaged the base of the breast he currently had sucked into his mouth, his breath becoming shallow as he heard your soft noises and felt the supple skin against his hot tongue. 

“Baby,” your broken, needy whine pulled Bradley away from your chest, and at your small whimper of “need you” paired with the slightest pout to your lush lips, had a fire exploding within his chest. He needed to make sure you got what you needed. He had to take care of you, keep you safe, keep you warm, keep you close.  

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t you worry, I’ve got you - daddy’s got you,” he murmured against your ear, placing soft, soothing kisses to your cheek, where a stray tear had escaped from your lust filled eyes. At his words, you couldn’t hold on any longer. That tiny fraction of control you held for a moment slipped away and a soft sob shook your chest as you moaned 

“Please, daddy,” you weren’t sure what you were pleading for, but desperation ran through your veins, and it seemed as if you could no longer control the soft sniffles and whimpers that heaved through your chest. Bradley’s soft touches, his soothing words touching your skin grounded you slightly, the feel of his fingers entangling with your hair, tugging softly - reminding you that he was there, that you were there. 

“Daddy’s here, baby. Relax, sweetheart… I’ll take such good care of you, I always take good care of you, hm?” Rooster murmured lovingly, his lips softly caressing yours, his other palm smoothing your hair away from your face as he looked down at you. Nodding your head, you reached for him, pulling him down so his weight rested on top of you. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, you placed several kisses against the scar on his throat. 

Bradley shuddered slightly at the sensation, before his arms wound around your back as he angled his body and turned - so that he was on his back and you were lying on his broad chest. One of his hands slowly reached down, splaying across your thigh - helping you straddle his abs. 

“Pretty, pretty baby,” he cooed as you sat up completely, looking down at him bashfully as you sat with your bare pussy pressed against his hard abs. Bradley’s hands settled on top of your thighs, gently rubbing small circles into them - making your core move slightly against his chiseled stomach. Tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you let your head roll back a little at the new sensation. 

“That feels good huh, honey?” Rooster rasped, the sight of his girl on top of him, softly rocking against his abs for her own pleasure enough for him to let a rough groan slip, fingers tightening on her thighs to help her ride his midsection better. 

“Yes, daddy… so good,” the sentence was punctured by a long, erotic moan. Bradley’s hard cock was already leaking from the pleasure of seeing her so blissed out for him, so lost in the pleasure and safety he had been able to provide her through his touch. Waves of pride swelled deep within his chest, and he had to take a deep breath as he pressed your core closer to his abdomen, hearing your soft whines as your clit caught the friction of the ridges his muscles provided. 

“Good girl… my good girl,” Bradley rasped breathlessly, easing his hold on your hips slightly, only to wrap his forearm under the swell of your ass - lifting you up slightly. Your hand swiftly reached down, and Bradley moaned low in his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around the silky hardness that pressed against your ass. 

“Bradley,” you moaned softly as you teased your folds with the thick tip of Bradley’s cock, the slick of your arousal coating the swollen, red tip. Rooster’s breath stuttered in his throat as his hands massaged the globes of your ass slowly, groaning as he felt you enclose him more when he pushed your cheeks a certain way.

Throwing his head back, he wondered briefly if this was how heaven felt like. You looked angelic enough, sat on top of him, beautiful face filled with the pleasure he was giving you, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed as you panted slightly at the feeling of his cock teasing your entrance and clit. 

He let you take your time, grinding yourself on his cock, enjoying your soft whimpers as he slipped further and further into your wet heat. Rooster only rutted his hips slightly each time you sank down, and soon you were whimpering and moaning incoherently, the stretch of his thick cock enough to make you delirious. Bradley sat up slightly to caress your cheek, making soft shushing noises to soothe you as you sat still, him bottomed out so deep in you, feeling your sweet cunt squeezing his cock again and again as you tried to adjust to him. 

“Daddy!” your soft sob, paired with your quick breaths had his brows furrowing slightly, his one hand softly finding its place around your throat, not squeezing but merely there as a reminder “Sweetheart…” he murmured, “Look at me,” dilated irises found his and he licked his lips softly “Are we okay? Do you need a break?” he softly let his thumb stroke your cheek, and you nuzzled into his palm whilst shaking your head.

“Do you promise daddy?” he asked again, gauging your reaction as you nodded “Words, baby,” he reminded you. “I’m okay,” you whispered “You just feel so good… you’re so good to me,” your voice was breathless but coherent, and Bradley smiled softly up at you, his dark blonde locks making him look rather angelic as he rested against the sofa cushions. 

“Take your time, my beautiful honey,” he reassured you, letting his hands glide down your spine, allowing you support should you need it. However, your hands splayed across his abdomen, spread where your arousal was still sticking to his skin.

Bradley again felt you flutter around him, and your soft exhale reassured him. Slowly he felt you grinding your hips slowly against him, not letting his cock leave your warm heat, only grinding it deep into your core. The feeling was overwhelming, and Bradley couldn’t help but pressing his head further back into the cushions, letting soft moans fall from his parted lips as he took in the sight of you riding him. 

Bradley slowly started to meet your hips, thrusting ever so slightly against you, his cock barely leaving you before it pressed home again. With one hand resting on your lower back, 

Rooster groaned as his other palmed softly at your breast. You keened at his touch, and you tipped over, letting your chest rest against his as you fell on top of him, kissing at his sternum. Bradley wasted no time in tangling his fingers into your hair, holding a steady grip on your hair as you whined happily. He slowly fucked into you, listening intently to every gasp and moan that he drew out of your mouth. 

“It feels so good when you fuck me like this, daddy,” you moaned softly in his ear “so deep… so slow oh, god– Bradley,” his name was dragged out as he slowly drew almost all of his length out out of your weeping cunt before ever so slowly letting himself sink deliciously deep into you, the tip of his cock softly brushing against your cervix. 

“You’re taking me so good… such a good girl for your daddy,” Rooster murmured, gasps drawn from his parted lips as he ground his cock deeper into you, alternating between thrusting, rutting and withdrawing his cock almost all the way only to sink slowly in again. The sensation was delicious, almost too much so.

Bradley and you had tried a lot of things in bed, you knew each other so instinctively that playing with one another was as easy as breathing - but never had he ever felt so overwhelmed with pleasure as he fucked you slow and steady. Bradley would never have thought that it could be so sensual, so needy, so wonderful. Didn’t think he’d feel his release building up like a slow ember within him, thought he needed it faster or harder - but no. All he needed was you, however you gave yourself to him. 

Nuzzling his face into your neck, he dared one hard, sharp thrust before stilling buried so deep in your heat. You whimpered, babbling softly in his ear as his fingers tugged gently at your hair, earning him a drawn out ‘daddy’, so vulnerable, so reliant on him, so trusting of him. 

“I love you so much, my pretty baby,” Rooster moaned, one hand resting on your ass to help you meet his sharper, short thrusts deep into you. 

“Love you daddy, oh– I’m- I’m so close, daddy” you sobbed, tears leaking from your eyes as you kissed at his pectorals, your tongue swiping over his nipple, teeth sinking into his skin to ground yourself somewhat.

“Fuck baby, me too. Be a good girl for daddy and cum for me? Yeah?” he panted, not speeding up his thrust, but keeping up the agonizing pace he’d set. “Oh,” you gasped as he ground against a spot deep inside your aching core “Please, more, daddy!” you whined, soft moans and whimpers coming closer and closer, your cunt hugging his cock so well as he brushed that spot again and again. He could feel how needy you were, how badly you needed to come undone, so with a soft yank of your hair, Bradley growled out

“Cum for daddy.” it was a demand, he wanted it now. And you, like the good, good girl you were, obeyed his every word, your body reacting so well to his as he drew out his cock and gave a deep thrust that had the rubber band inside your belly snapping, your pleasured cries ringing out in the cabin, your hands grasping his biceps hard as you cried, sniffled and chanted ‘daddy’ over and over again as Bradley fucked himself into you to chase his own high.

“So pretty falling apart all over daddy’s cock,” he rasped as your lips feverishly kissed and nipped at his neck, incoherent sentences moaned against his warm skin “love being your good girl daddy, oh,” moaning as Bradley dared thrust a little faster, breath hitching in your throat as he worked you towards your second orgasm “Daddy, oh— daddy, please, please cum in me! Please fill me, I need you, please,” you babbled, soft whimpers and pouts driving Bradley absolutely insane as you fucked yourself onto his cock, you could feel his cock pulsing in you. 

“Fuck, sweet girl, I’m going to cum so hard, gonna fill your pretty cunt with all of me. Gonna fuck a baby into your sweet belly, honey, gonna make you mine,” Bradley growled, and he didn’t know where all of this was coming from, but as he saw your eyes roll back and your body shudder from pleasure at his words his hips stuttered, once, twice, before a deep, long moan tumbled from his lips as he felt himself spurt hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Bradley had never had an orgasm as intense as this one, rutting his hips again and again against your wet core as he kept spilling himself into you. 

As he came down from his high, feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest as he panted, he felt your form resting on his chest. He swiftly brushed hair from your face, angling himself so he could look at you, make sure you were okay.

You were still spasming slightly, soft whimpers intermingled with needy cries for ‘daddy’ making him cradle you closer to his chest as his cock softened in you. The feeling of Bradley’s hot seed slowly running out of you had you whimpering again, nuzzling your face into his chest. 

“There’s my good girl, so good… you did so well, baby. My good girl,” Rooster hummed, holding you close to his chest as he pressed kisses to your hair and your forehead. 

“Are you okay, sweets?” Bradley asked after he heard your breathing even out, and you nodded mutely against his chest, still biting softly at his skin. “Come, pretty baby, should we clean up and maybe get in the bath? Get some yummy drinks and some snacks? How does that sound?” he hummed, looking down into your wide blown eyes. 

“Sounds so good, daddy,” you mumbled as Rooster rubbed your arms softly. When he slipped out of you, you made a small noise of discontent, and he knew that you wouldn’t react good to him leaving you right now. Therefore, he gently lifted you into his arms, feeling your arousal mixed with his slowly trickling down his hip as he held you with one arm, grabbing some drinks and snacks with the other before moving to the big bathroom.

Sitting down the food, he swiftly worked on getting the water temperature just right for the two of you, before he gently cleaned you, peppering kisses over you face as he worked, smiling at you and telling you how much he loved you. 

At last, as the tub was filled with warm water and bubbles, he gently eased himself into the tub before helping you sit in between his legs - your back resting comfortably against his chest as his arms wound tight around you. Your head was rested on his shoulder, face turned towards his as you smiled. “I love you, so much, Bradley.” you spoke softly, kissing his jaw.

“And I you, baby. Thank you for loving me so well,” he murmured, letting a loving kiss linger against your lips.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #my writing #smut

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

oooohhh, bradley smut drabble with a reader who has glasses??

asdfghjkl yes!!!!!!! I wear glasses sooooo..... ;) this is very self-indulgent. smut as always, please proceed with caution.

also feel free to keep requesting (here)!

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

The bedroom is only dimly lit, but at least there's enough light for you to make out your own hands, dug deeply into Bradley's curls, and the way his eyes are set on you - solely on you, focused, fixed, as to not miss a single tick of your jaw or shift in your expression.

You'd love to do the same. Really, you would, especially because you can't always watch him, simply because you can't always see him. In the mornings or in the evenings, or when he lovingly sets aside your glasses onto the bedside table so he can take a better look at you, all close-up.

Right now, you can very much see him. You can very, very much see his curly hair, his puppy-dog eyes, his hands flexing against your hips. And you'd hate to miss the sight of him as he buries his tongue inside of you and pushes you over the edge.

Because as much as you want to watch him - you can't help but throw your head back and call his name into the low light around you, lips parted and mouth dry as you bare your throat to him, worship him in silent delight, clench your thighs around his head and push him closer, closer and closer and closer and-

"Fuck", you pant as you come down, letting your eyes flutter open again. Your view is hazy, your glasses fogged up. You have to grin at the ceiling.

Bradley pulls away from you only reluctantly, and even then he brushes a kiss to the inside of your thigh before he finally does come up.

You try to ignore the fog to look at him as he rests his hands next to your head and smiles down at you. You're looking positively debauched. His chest swells a bit at that and warmth spreads through him - and even though it does every time, he still feels as though it's the first. Every time with you feels like the first.

Especially as you lift a finger to re-adjust your glasses, to push them just slightly back up onto your nose and Bradley melts.

You don't only look debauched, you also look adorable. With your glasses all fogged up like that, red on your cheeks, and that smile... God, that smile will one day be the death of him, he's sure of that.

He leans down and presses his lips to yours, soft and slow and unhurried. The taste of you lingers on his tongue. You tangle your hands in his hair and lazily tug him closer.

Your eyes are still closed behind those glasses when he pulls away again.

Maybe he was wrong before, actually. Maybe your smile won't be the death of him after all - it'll be your glasses.

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

[callsign-fox]

Wingman - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Been sitting in the drafts/Lightly edited

Written with @fanficgirl429 <3

18+ Only // Enjoy xo

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

When you sign on to be a pilot for the Navy as a female, you know you’ll have to put up with egotistical men on a daily basis, however, it’s not until you have to work with them that you realize how incredibly self centered they actually are. 

The canopy to my jet raised and I quickly climbed down the ladder. My wingman, Rooster, landed right behind me and he was currently maneuvering his jet into the assigned spot beside mine. Rooster was not my first choice for a wingman, he wasn’t my second or third either. It was near impossible to work with him and I was sure our superiors were getting ready to ship one of us off to Guam just to separate us from one another. Fortunately for them, we were two of the best the Navy had to offer and so for that reason alone, we were stuck together. 

I glanced up from my current conversation with my flight crew just as Rooster walked by, his head down and stupid aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes. I rolled my eyes as he continued by not saying a word. Of course he wouldn't say anything, he was the reason we failed the exercise.

“That was a disaster,” I mumbled to myself.

I turned behind me just as my friend Phoenix walked by. “What was going on up there?” she asked, watching    

Bradley as he disappeared into the locker room. 

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask Bradley and report it back to me?” 

Phoenix shook her head. “No thanks. I’m slightly terrified of him when he’s angry.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Well, he’s an asshole.”

Phoenix glanced back at the locker room before looking over at me. She lowered her voice as she said, “I have to tell you something about Bradley and it’s probably going to make you mad.” 

“Well if it has to do with Bradley, of course it’s going to make me mad.”

Phoenix sighed and began, “Well, I was at the Hard Deck the other night and ran into Anders. Apparently there is a rumor going around about you back in the Academy.” 

My eyes narrowed in on her and I clenched my fist, “About what?”

“Now don't shoot the messenger, you can be scary sometimes too.” 

“Phoenix!” I yelled, losing my patience. 

“Apparently Bradley started a rumor that the only reason you got into Top Gun was because you…” Phoenix trailed off. 

My heart began to race and I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Because I what?” 

“Because you gave Admiral Rhodes a blow job.” 

“What?” I shrieked and quickly began to walk towards the locker room. 

When I reached the door to the men's locker room, I pulled it open and immediately locked eyes with Hangman. A towel hung off his hips, showing off his incredible abs. I tore my eyes away, feeling a blush creep up my neck. 

“Where is he?” I asked. 

Without hesitating, Hangman pointed towards the back, where I assumed the showers were. There was only one shower being used and I walked over and pushed the white curtain aside. 

“Hey!” a very familiar voice shouted. “What the fuck?” 

I took a step back, not wanting to get wet. Bradley reached out and grabbed his white towel from the hook and wrapped it around his waist. I couldn’t help but notice how well built he was. His six pack abs were on full display and I hated how much I wanted to run my fingers along them. 

“What do you want Y/N?” 

My eyes snapped away from his body and I stared into his brown eyes. “I heard a rumor about me. One that you might happen to know about.” 

Bradley narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Yea, I might happen to know what you’re referring to.” 

“Are you insane? What did I do to you besides tolerate you every damn day for the last four years!”

Bradley shrugged. “I’ve been a delight! You have done nothing but drive me insane.”

“You didn't know, the only reason I’m here is to drive you crazy!”

Bradley laughed. “Nope. The only reason you’re here is because you gave Admiral Rhodes a blow job.” 

My jaw dropped and I couldn't help but growl at him. “That never happened! I hate you so much.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the feeling is mutual.” 

I took a step forward and shoved him hard causing him to stumble back into the shower, but before I could react his hand grabbed my wrist, pulling me under the hot stream of water. To my amusement my hands were pressed against his chest, and before I could register what I was doing my nails ran down his toned abs to the top of his towel. The moment was over when I pulled my hands away and brushed them through my now wet hair. 

“Do you have any idea how attractive you are when you’re mad at me?” he said, his voice low. 

His words caught me off guard. “Wait, what?”

The hot water was still running over my body and I was becoming increasingly aware of just how see through my white t-shirt was when I noticed Bradley’s eyes looking down at my chest. 

“I know I shouldn't be this turned on right now, but I am.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed a piece of wet hair behind my ear. “You’re such a prick.”

Bradley ran his tongue along his lower lip and smiled. A moment later his lips came crashing into mine. The urge to push him off of me came and went as my hands snaked around his neck and I began twirling my fingers through his hair. 

His lips moved quickly as he placed his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him. My body was pressed against his and I could feel his erection against my stomach. My core slightly throbbed, begging to be touched by him. 

Bradley’s fingers toyed with the bottom of my wet t-shirt before he slipped them under and pulled the shirt over my head, barely breaking the kiss. My shirt dropped to the floor and I quickly pushed it away with my foot. By now the rest of the guys would have left, but I pulled the shower curtain shut just in case. 

His lips brushed softly against my neck before pressing against my ear and whispered, “Does that mean you want me to keep going?” 

My fingers toyed with the top of Bradley’s towel as I gave him a slight nod. His hands gripped my waist and he swiftly spun us around so that my back was pressed against the wall. Bradley hurriedly unbuttoned my wet jean shorts and pushed them down my waist before dropping them to the floor. He quickly turned off the water as it began to get cold, but not before our lips were once again intertwined. In the mess of clothes coming off, I hadn’t even noticed his towel dropped to the floor, proving to me that the rumors about how endowed Bradley Bradshaw was, were indeed true. 

“Well, well. I guess I won’t ever be able to spread anymore rumors about how small Rooster is.” 

He pulled back, slightly offended. “Wait, what have you been telling people?” 

I let out a small laugh. “What’s done is done, YOU told people I gave an admiral a blow job.” 

“And if you’re any good at it, I'll be sure to pass that on and your spot in Top Gun will have been well deserved.” 

I gave him a small smack on his arm before reaching over and placing my hand against his chest. My eyes locked with his as I slowly began to run my fingers down his chest and towards his stomach. My polished nails left faint red lines on his skin and Bradley looked all too amused as he watched me drop down to my knees. 

Bradley sucked in his breath as my hand wrapped around him. I slowly moved my hand along his length, which by Bradley’s reaction of pressing his hand to the wall to steady himself, was a good move. I gently grazed my tongue over his tip and his free hand instinctively moved to my long brown hair, giving it a slight tug. I smiled as his hips jerked forward, pushing his length further into my mouth. I didn’t miss a beat as I continued with my lips wrapped around him, causing him to let out a deep moan and pull tighter on my hair.

“Y/N,” Bradley breathed, “you need to stop…now.”

I let out a small chuckle before standing up and Bradley immediately pulled me against him. He placed his lips against mine, kissing me quickly. One hand wrapped around my waist, while the other moved up my stomach and towards my chest. His fingers played with my nipple, causing it to stand erect. With each touch, my core throbbed from being ignored by him. I rubbed my thighs together, trying to ease the tension but Bradley noticed. His hand moved from my chest, along my stomach, and towards my core. 

His calloused fingers ran along my center, coming to a stop at my sensitive spot. Two fingers rubbed against it and I let out a moan. Bradley’s lips continued to move against mine and he slipped two fingers inside me. He moved them against me and I could feel my high quickly approaching with each movement. 

“I’m close,” I told him. 

His fingers continued to move and it didn’t take long before my walls were clenching around him. My legs became weak and Bradley placed his hands on my hips, helping me steady myself. It had been a while since I had an orgasm that intense. 

Once I was able to stand on my own, I reached down and placed my hand on his erection. He took a step closer to me. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” he asked. 

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to walk out of here,” I told him. 

“You’re making it really hard to hate you right now,” Bradley said, while placing a hand on the back of my thigh. 

My leg wrapped around his waist, and without hesitation Bradley pushed his length inside of me, my walls stretching around him. A gasp escaped my lips and Bradley smiled.

“You’re so tight.” 

He gave me a moment to get used to the size before he began to move his hips against mine. 

Each thrust pushed me closer to my second climax of the day. I let out a loud gasp as his length hit the perfect spot. 

Bradley smirked as I continued to melt against his touch. 

“I’m so close,” I whispered. 

He reached down and pressed two fingers against my sensitive spot, rubbing it casually. 

Within moments my walls clenched around him and my legs became weak. The humidity from the shower made our bodies sticky and sweaty, which only helped my arousal. Bradley continued thrusting and seconds later he released inside of me, a moan escaping his lips. 

The two of us stood there for a moment, catching our breaths. Bradley stared at me and I smiled shyly, fully realizing that we were both completely naked. I reached for the towel he had hung on the side of the shower and wrapped it around my waist. 

“That was mine.” 

I stepped out of the shower, reaching down and picking up my soaked t-shirt and shorts that had lazily been pushed aside. “These are the only clothes I have with me. How am I supposed to get home?” 

He walked over to his duffle bag that was sitting on the bathroom bench and pulled out a gray t-shirt. “Here you go. I can get it back from you tomorrow, after training.”

“That would imply I am inviting you over to get it, and I haven’t.” 

“Oh,” Bradley said with a wink. “You will invite me over.” And once again there was that attitude I knew and hated.

#bradley bradshaw #rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #miles teller #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x y/n #miles teller top gun #rooster top gun #dagger squad

[sailor-aviator]

Boots teaching Tarzan!Bradley how to go down on her. There isn’t a more eager student anywhere!

"You want to what?" You asked, blinking at the man in front of you. His big, brown eyes looked at you imploringly, and half of you wasn't even sure he knew what he was asking.

"Want to taste you," he repeated, leaning in closer, close enough for you to smell the musk that was uniquely him.

"Bradley," you started, stopping as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. "Where did you even hear about this?"

"Javy and Jake-"

"Say no more," you mumbled, rolling your eyes. You'd have to have another talk with those two about what they say in front of the wild man. "Why do you even want to do this?"

"Want to make you feel good," he rumbled, already tugging at the band of your shorts. His lips are peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pulling an involuntary moan from your own lips.

"Bradley, I-"

"Please?" He asks, stopping and pulling back to look at you. Your breath caught in your throat at the lust-filled gaze that filled his eyes, swallowing the honey color that you loved so much. His hands were stroking softly up and down your sides, sending goosebumps sprouting across your skin despite the heat.

"Please," he repeats, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, and you sigh.

"Alright."

A grin breaks out across his face, his hands making quick work of removing your clothes until you're bare before him. His hands run down the length of your torso as he peppers sweet, gentle kisses in their wake, and you felt yourself already growing wet with anticipation. You let out a shuddering breath once you felt his breath brush over your exposed sex, your fingers curling into fists at the feeling.

You heard him inhale before letting out a low groan, gasping when you felt his nose brush against your clit.

"Bradley!" You gasped, one hand flying to fist his curls as he licked an experimental strip up the length of your slit. He let out a low hum at the taste, burying his face into your cunt as he repeated the action again and again and again.

Your head was thrown back in bliss as your hand guided his head further into the apex of your thighs, pleasured cries escaping you as Bradley ate you like a man starved. His tongue delved into you, thrusting in and out before moving back up to latch onto your clit, suckling at the sensitive nub.

"So good," you sobbed, your hips thrusting up to meet his mouth. Bradley let out a growl before hauling your legs over his shoulders, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your ass as he brought you closer to your peak. Your cries came out more high pitched and breathless now as the wild man made you see stars. Who knew he would be a natural?

The lewd sounds coming from between your thighs only served to push you closer to the edge, the sucking and squelching filling the tent as Bradley let out his own hums and moans. With one final suck to your clit, you fell over the edge with a shout, your fingers tugging on Bradley's curls as he growled, not relenting as you came.

It all became too much, and you clumsily pushed Bradley away as you fought to calm your breathing. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took in the sight of Bradley with your juices coating the lower half of his face. A dark look glinted in his eyes as he frowned at you, hands already reaching out to drag you back.

"Not done," he rumbled.

#answered #anonymous #hey nonny nonny #tarzan!bradley #slm #stranger like me #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #smut

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Easy Like Sunday Morning - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Lazy Sunday mornings are few and far between for you and Bradley. When they do happen, you make the best of them.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v (or at least, no protection mentioned), dirty talk, praise kink, Bradley worshipping you. Sort of CNC (both parties are awake though when the actual act occurs?)

word count: 1.5k

The morning sun peeked through the curtains over the large window in your bedroom. You yawned and stretched, a much needed gesture after a solid eight hours of fighting Bradley for the covers throughout the night. Beside you, he lay in bed, still snoring peacefully - you were convinced at this point an atom bomb could probably detonate beside his eardrum and he still wouldn’t stir.  His tanned arm rested just over the covers, his hand loosely gripping the fabric as he slept. He turned onto his side, causing the blanket to drop slightly, exposing a landscape of golden sunkissed skin dotted with freckles across his shoulders and upper back. Bradley would never admit to it, but he’d been hitting the gym harder lately, and it was starting to show more so as the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as he got comfortable. 

Bradley had always been a good looking man. You swore that from the moment you first saw him - dressed in his khaki uniform walking down the streets in Coronado as he and a couple of friends decided to grab lunch off base that day after a briefing. You’d been out for lunch with one of your friends, and Bradley caught your eye from a mile away. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and handsome - he was perfectly your type. As luck would have it, it turned out that he’d had his eye on you at the same time. Before leaving that afternoon, he’d stopped by the table where you were dining and flashed this beautifully crooked smile at you, the kind that made you just absolutely melt on the spot.

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, but I couldn’t walk away without telling you how beautiful you are.”

His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine when he spoke, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your brain processed what he’d said. He laughed when you told him he was sweet, his cheeks becoming rosy as you teased him, and that was that - within a couple of days, he was calling you for a date, and now, two years later, he was sound asleep in bed beside you, in the house you two had purchased together a few short months ago. 

You gently placed a kiss to his shoulder blade as you reminisced to yourself about meeting Bradley for the first time, causing him to murmur something softly, eyelids fluttering for a moment before remaining shut. After a few minutes, Bradley flipped back to lay on his back, grumbling quietly as he settled himself back into his rest. His curls were tousled messily from his tossing and turning, something that Bradley would quickly tame the moment he woke up with some hair styling products he had stashed away, specifically for making sure his hair remained in Navy regulation at every moment. 

You began to kiss his shoulder again, gently peppering his soft skin with tender kisses as he slept, showering him with affection. Bradley’s eyes fluttered again, a soft smirk forming on his lips as he glanced down at you, your trail of kisses now heading further towards his chest. He hummed softly and shut his eyes again, enjoying your display of tenderness towards him on this lazy morning. 

As you trailed your mouth down his body, you peeled back the blankets gently - trying your best not to wake him abruptly. You danced your fingers down his chest to his abdomen, your lips following suit. Once you reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, you delicately placed another kiss to the light trail of hair that extended from his naval to his waistline before sitting yourself upright. Carefully, you straddled his waist, taking care to seat yourself gently on his abdomen. You ducked your head down to begin kissing at his ear, which prompted a soft groan from Bradley.

“Mornin’, honey,” he said sleepily as he blinked his bleary brown eyes a few times in an effort to focus them on you. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your lips leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, something Bradley could never resist. 

“Mhmm,” Bradley shook his head, a strained chuckle falling from his lips as he shifted underneath you in the bed. “Honey, you’re making it really, really hard for me to not just flip you over and-” 

You raised a challenging eyebrow as you hovered yourself over top of his lap, settling down on the tenting fabric of his boxers. Grinding yourself against him, Bradley let out a deep grunt, shaking his head as he reached out and grabbed at your hips. He held you firmly in place, guiding your as you moved back and forth, rubbing yourself over top of his boxers. 

Bradley gazed up at you with lust-filled eyes as he pushed you back onto his thighs for a moment, reaching a hand down to shove the restricting fabric back off his waist. Your fingers teased and taunted him as you slowly pulled back his boxers, his hardening cock springing forwards as you freed it. Taking his length in your hand, you stroked it gently, your thumb tracing soft, delicate circles around the tip. 

“Honey, you’re killing me here,” Bradley rasped, watching you carefully as you continued to toy with him, pumping your hand along his shaft with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Roo,” you purred, using his callsign as a means to tease him.

“Fuck,” he panted, shaking his head for a minute to try and compose himself, “I need you to ride me, pretty girl. Think you’re up for it?”

“I think I can handle it.” 

You lifted the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt that you’d slept in up, just enough to keep it out of the way as you positioned yourself over top of him. You slid down on to him with a soft whine, tilting your head to the side as you looked down at him, pressing your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself. 

“Fuck, that’s it, honey. Lookin’ so pretty bouncing up and down on my cock,” Bradley grunted, his large hands reaching for any part of you he could get a grip on, settling for your thighs.

You bobbed yourself up and down on him with ease, working yourself into a rhythm as you rode Bradley. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thigh, causing you to whine as you sped up your movements. Bradley’s hands snuck their way up the bottom of your shirt, gliding their way against your sensitive skin before cupping your breasts. He gave them a playful squeeze before sliding them back down to your waist, guiding you up and down on him as he felt your walls beginning to clench around his cock. 

“S-so close, Bradley,” you whined, throwing your head back before darting your eyes down to meet his steely gaze. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it go for me, honey, I’ve got ya.” he coached, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.

You gasped as you felt Bradley switch his hand placement, one of his hands drifting to your abdomen. He reached down and pressed his fingertip into your clit, massaging it in circles as you rode him. Your orgasm hit you almost immediately after he made contact with your sensitive nub, a wicked grin formed on Bradley’s lips as he watched your thighs shake and the movement of your hips become less precise as you fell apart on him.

Bradley snapped his hips forwards into you, thrusting hard and deep into your throbbing cunt. He desperately pounded into you, his breath hitching in his throat as he brought himself close to the edge. Your name fell from his lips like a sacred prayer, repeating it over and over as his voice rasped - as if there was nothing else on his mind than you.

“Fuck, so good, honey, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me, baby girl.” he praised, worshipping you as he came down from his climax.

Breathlessly, you leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, passionate kiss. Your teeth grazed at his plump bottom lip gently as you pulled your head back, a grin forming on your features as you looked down at him.

“That’s one way to wake me up,” he laughed, shaking his head before gazing up at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Come on,” you grinned, tapping his thigh as you dismounted from his waist, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you coming with me, Roo?”

Bradley grinned, raising his dark eyebrow at you as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. 

“I wouldn’t miss it.” 

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[ohcaptains]

triple x

pairing. rooster x pilot! female! reader 

an. this took me forever. pls comment and reblog i beg<3  synopsis. you and rooster keep your relationship private. you meet up at a hotel miles away whenever you can, sometimes waiting weeks before meeting again. this time though, it’s been months, and the pair of you decide to spend all night making up for lost time. 

warnings. 18+ only. minors do not interact with this fic or follow me -- i am not responsible for your media consumption. this is very explicit. I guess top gun counts as a warning. female and male receiving oral, and female receiving penetration. unprotected mirror sex, extreme dirty talk and descriptions. leans more towards m!dom. slight sub space, come play, come eating, spitting and saliva. if you copy my shit i’ll find out.

The night-time is forgiving.

Nobody can see the sweat beading around your forehead, or the way you’re clenching your fists, trying to stop the tingling sensation from spreading up your arms.

You’re nervous.

Can feel it swelling in your belly, drumming against your heart and chest. The black of the night means it’s all hidden, though. Hidden, as you lean against the familiar motel wall, waiting for Rooster to come with the keys.

It's easy to miss him when he’s in his civvies.

You only recognise him in the dark green and beige of the navy uniform the pair of you share, thus, when you see a man walking towards you, your nerves heighten. Triple tenfold, before Rooster’s familiar face comes into view. The lines of his brown, blonde hair, and the shape of his moustache.

There he is, your subconscious whispers, and your body relaxes. When he sees you leaning against the wall, a brilliant grin splits his scowl in two, and his walk turns to a jog.

The first thing he says is, “missed you,” even though he saw you three hours ago.

Mumbles it into the night, his hand coming round to grab your waist as he bends to kiss you, and you don’t see the grateful smile he’s got on his scarred face, but you feel it against your mouth, spreading as you wrap your arms around his neck and melt into him.

He smells like the sun and the sea, feels warm and intimate, and your bodies slot together, merge into one as he softly pushes your back into the wall.

Rooster deepens the kiss. Splays his wide hand over your hip, coming round to grab beneath your ass, and he forces your thigh up and around his waist. Your body sighs out in relief. Opens up to him completely. The kiss makes you dizzy; his tongue pushing into your mouth and reminding you how long it’s been.

“You miss me too?” he whispers, ghosting his mouth across your cheek.

Rooster likes to be told.

Likes to be complimented and reassured, but all you can do is focus on his fingers pushing into your thigh, the night-time breeze sending his cologne spiraling into your nose. 

You’re drunk on him already. “Yeah, Jesus,” you whisper back, flicking your eyes up into his. He’s staring at you intently, eyes swimming in something thick and bright.

The moon glistens over his features, letting you see everything you’ve missed up close. You see him every day, but looking at him now, it’s like the first time. The scars on his neck and cheek, the little one he’s got on his chin.

You reach out and trace the lines, run a thumb over his soft, pink lips and focus on the way his tongue darts out and touches your skin. It causes an electric current to shoot through your belly.

“Did anyone see you leave?” you breathe, hand still cupping his chin.

He shakes his head softly. “We’re pros at this now, sweetheart.”

The pet name causes something dormant in your chest to bloom – scratches an itch you can’t reach. You had to be careful. If anybody found out that the pair of you had been using your personal time off base to meet at a shady motel, you’d be disciplined within an inch of your life.

There were strictly no relationships between teammates.

Still, that didn’t stop you from meeting with Bradley once a fortnight.

Now, though, It’d been months.

Could barely remember the way here, or what room you usually occupied.

Rooster kisses you again because now he freely can.

The last time you kissed was three days ago.

You’d been pulled into an empty classroom, and lucky for Rooster, you realised who he was before you defended yourself. Had enough time to squeak a confused, “what the fuck?” Before he quieted you with his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth and you wept.

Let out a pained sigh as you tasted him, hands holding onto his uniform for dear life. When he pulled away, you drunkenly blinked up at him, your dazed expression suddenly twisting into a scowl.

“Why’d you do that?” you whispered, and Rooster immediately understood. He’d broken the seal, left the pair of you begging for more. He was apologetic when he explained, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait.”

Felt it blooming in your chest, your body aching for more already.

“Only gonna make it worse,” you replied, before leaning up and capturing his lips in yours again, tasting the mint from his gum and the coffees your team had shared this morning. He was an addiction, and you’d gone months without.

Now, one little taste was going to break your clean streak. He groaned, eyes clenched closed with a hand flat on the wall beside you, the other fisting your t-shirt. The sound echoed through your body, and you committed it to memory – a fresh one.

It took all of your strength and willpower to pull away, rushing to the door.

As you went to open it, Rooster lunged for you. Took your hand in his and scrambled to say, “This Friday.” You tore your eyes away from the wood, looking at him in confusion. “What?” “Mav’s taking this weekend off. This Friday, 10 pm.” You nodded, trying to desperately quell the excitement that was suddenly pulsing through you. It made you silly, made you take his arm and pull him to you, kissing him quick. Finally, there was an end to your madness.

You tried to not get too thrilled – your plans could fall through. Still, you focused on Rooster's desperation as he hastily tasted you, before pulling away and shaking his head with a stupid grin.

“Think you can wait that long?” he quirked. “I think I can manage –” you checked your watch, “--eight hours.”

Rooster flicked his eyes over your features, a dreamy look flooding his features. He bit his lip and shook his head, saying, “I can’t,” and dipped to kiss you again.

As he kisses you now, the desperation is still there, but it’s slower. There’s finality, the end of a few long and torturous months in sight. You run your fingers over the fresh buzz at top of his neck, adoring the way it feels on your skin.

Want to touch all of him. Consume him in ways you haven’t for what feels like an eternity. You pull away, meeting Rooster’s blazing eyes.

“You got the keys?”

As soon as the door is locked behind you, Rooster’s pulling his jacket off.

When he drops it to the floor, his large palms come to grab your hips, taking you against his body with a feverish desire. He drops his chin and kisses you quick, manically, all teeth and tongue and no skill but hunger. He bumps his mouth against yours, mumbling, “you have no idea how much I want to fuck you.”

You do.

Can feel it pushing long and hard against your lower stomach. Familiar. It makes you ache.

Makes heat burgeon in your belly and across your cheeks as you imagine him taking you against the door. Pulling your skirt up and pushing inside of you, wet from his spit and it would hurt but fuck, it’s been so long that you want it to.

Want it hard and fast and desperate, then maybe afterwards you can take your time. Your hands go for his belt buckle, propelled by the sound he makes when your hands brush over his bulge.

He groans, a gasp trapped in his throat, then presses his sweet lips to yours and you’re sighing out in relief, pushing your tongue into his mouth, and wrapping your arms around his neck, body submitting to his completely.

“Not waiting that long again,” he declares, talking between kisses. He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hips and taking you against him. “A month is too long — my hands got blisters.” You imagine Rooster making himself come in his bunk, cupping his wide palm around his cock, and coming, covering his mouth to stifle the sounds from coming out. You feel the same. You tried to make yourself come the other night, and you were so turned on and frustrated that you cried. Sobbed into your pillow as you pushed your fingers into your dripping pussy, silently begging for Rooster to come and shut you up.

The familiar ache is with you now, pushing between your legs and pooling in your underwear.

He’s barely touched you.

You shove your hands to his belt buckle again, nodding against his mouth. “Yeah,” you agree, pulling his belt out of the loops. “Yeah, fuck.” “I know,” Rooster soothes, kissing you stupid. “I know baby.”

You manage to shuffle him against a nearby countertop, and you turn the lamp on, illuminating the pair of you in warm, orange light. He’s gorgeous.

Sometimes you forget how pretty he is, but then he saunters into the mess hall, sitting next to you on the table and mumbling a groggy, “morning.” His hair freshly styled, his moustache brushed, and his chin and cheeks shaved.

He looked like that this morning, and it made your belly clench with something tragic as you pictured him doing it all for you.

You drop to your knees in front of him, and Rooster groans, the sound coming from deep within his stomach.

“Fuck,” he spits, eyes following all of your movements. He soaks up the way your legs spread across the carpet, and the way your hands come up to shakily pull his trousers down. He helps you yank them off, revealing his light grey boxers, and you see his hard cock. See it leaking a dark patch on the fabric, and you can’t help yourself.

Can’t help but lean forward and nudge your nose across his length, jutting your tongue out and sliding it up the outline of his dick.

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster whispers, his eyes fluttering closed and mouth parting. “um’ gonna come as soon as you put me in your mouth,” he declares, and your belly clenches at the mere thought. “Okay,” you whisper, because fuck, that’s exactly what you want.

Want him desperate and whiney, coming thick and hot down your throat. Want it dripping down your chin and leaking over your neck. You take a reassuring breath, reaching up to tug his boxers down. Rooster’s chest is clenched, sucking in deep – in and out – as his cock slides out, and he hisses as it hits the air.

Before you even get his boxers past his knees, you’re leaning up and running your wet tongue over him, forcing him to choke and splutter your name into the motel room.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” he wheezes, clenching his eyes closed. You smile, resting your hands in front of you, crouching over his dick and just about touching him with your mouth, but Rooster’s already whimpering, pushing his hips up to get more. “Please,” he breathes. “Look at me,” you whisper, brushing your mouth over him. “Shit – “he hisses, hips jolting. “--’m gonna come if I do.” “S’what I want,” you quickly reply, leaning up to hold him in your steady palm.

He’s trying to calm himself down. Hold himself back – fingers holding the wood of the counter tight enough the bend it. Eventually, he does what you say. Takes in a shuddering breath, blinking down at you, and it’s then that you choose to collect spit behind your teeth and catch Rooster’s eyes, drooling it onto the red, wet head of his cock.

When you lean back, a trickle of saliva is still connected to your lips.

His eyes blow wide.

“’ so fucking hot,” he breathes, shaking his head as if he can’t believe it. As if he can’t believe this is happening right now and God, you’re the same.

It’s been so long that you can’t remember the way he tastes, feels – feels when he’s pushing inside of you, cursing your name.

When you slide your tongue over his slit, you taste him.

Taste his musk, remember it -- remember tasting him for the first time and hearing him sob your name. The memory of it spurs you on. Makes you speed up, using your hand to drag your saliva over his length as your mouth works over the head. 

You spit onto his dick again, pushing it over his cock and it slides down, dripping over your chin and onto the floor.

Rooster’s breathing is heavy, and when you look up, you see he’s holding his wide palm over his mouth, stifling any moans that want to come out. You pout around his cock, shaking your head up at him.

“’ wanna hear you,” you mumble, and Rooster slowly pulls his hand away, as if he had forgotten you liked that. When you take him back into your mouth, he flexes his hips, pushing himself deeper. “Fuckkkkk,” he groans, deep and low. You feel his hands come down, holding the sides of your head steady.

“Take me all the way, please. Please, baby.”

So, you do. Take him to the back of your mouth and you choke, your throat constricting, but you keep on going. Eyes watering, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto the hardwood, and Rooster watches you, whispering your name with his mouth open and eyes blissed out.

“God,” he drags, rolling his hips up, making you gag, making you push your spare hand between your thighs to try and quell the ache that’s building there, and Rooster sees.

Sees you grind your pussy into your palm once, twice, and the reality of the situation must hit him all at once, because, suddenly, he’s pulling back an inch, giving you a short warning before he’s coming quickly down your throat.

His whole body shudders. He groans your name. Says,

“Fucking shit, oh my fuck – shit, I’m – god -- sorry baby, fuck. Feel so fucking good, so fucking good, prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever – “he sucks in a quick breath, “– seen.”

Tries to calm himself down, but you don’t let up, keep on working your hand over him, milking his cock into your wanting mouth. “Mmm,” you hum around him, smiling. Mindlessly, you lick and suck at him, lapping up his come and your spit.

Rooster’s breathing begins to slow, and when you’re finished cleaning him up, you lean back onto your thighs and begin licking him from your fingers. He’s red from the neck up. His eyes are blown and red-rimmed, and when he looks down at you, he laughs, shocked more than anything.

“That’s the—” he starts, breathing in deep, “—that’s the quickest I’ve ever come.”

You giggle around your wet fingers, trying to hide your pride. Rooster wipes his forehead with the back of his palm, “’ felt so good.”

“Yeah?” you ask, squinting up at him. He’s still around your chin. Glistening on your throat, and you use your pointer finger to drag it up to your mouth, licking it off of your skin as Rooster watches. His eyes dilate -- focusing on how you wipe his come off of your bottom lip and put it into your mouth, where it belongs.

“Gonna be the fucking death of me,” he proclaims, and suddenly, he’s shoving his boxers all the way off, and bending down to pick you up.

Rooster drags you up from the floor and just about throws you onto the bed. You bounce on the squeaky mattress, giggling manically, and Rooster clambers to you, hands coming to take your thighs and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore.

Your stomach drops, and you try to crane your neck up to see him. Instead, you choose to prop yourself up onto your elbows.

Rooster’s pulling your skirt down. Dragging it over your thighs and feet, then immediately coming back to do the same with your underwear. You lift your hips to help him, breath caught in the back of your throat from the eventuality of this situation.

The room is suddenly quiet apart from your desperate breathing, and the squeak of the mattress as Rooster comes back to your bare pussy, suddenly splitting you open with his wide and flat tongue.

“Shit,” you gasp, dropping back onto the bed. You try to hitch your hips away, but Rooster’s gripping onto your thighs, digging his fingers into your skin to keep you there.

“Don’t you dare move,” he orders, mumbling into your folds, and God, you can’t do anything but. It’s been so long that the feeling is foreign to you. Completely new, as he spits into your cunt and watches it slide from your clit to your puffy hole.

“Missed this fucking pussy,” he groans, burying his face back into it and dragging his tongue upwards, swirling your clit around with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Mm,” you sob, trying to scoot your hips back, but Rooster’s hands are locked onto your thighs, holding you tight enough to mark you.

It’s not that you don’t want it, but you’re incredibly sensitive already, clit aching and pussy clenching around nothing as he desperately laps at you, sloppily dragging his tongue over your cunt and drooling spit down your puckered hole.

“Bradley,” you weep, using his real name, hoping that it cuts through the thick of it all.

“You want something baby? M’busy.” His voice growls over your skin, doubling the obscene feeling that’s pooling at your lower back. “Shit, I don’t –” you gasp, shaking your head at the water-stained ceiling. It’s never hit you this quick before.

Never been this good this quick.

You tighten your grip on the sheets, arching your hips as far as Rooster will let you, and it’s not very far at all. Just an inch, but you take it, using it to drag your cunt over his mouth, hoping, begging, and praying for more friction so you can just fucking come already.

Rooster figures out what you’re doing.

He pats your thigh. “Stop that, I’m trying—trying to savour it.” You whimper, “’um sensitive.” “From what? I’ve barely touched you.” “Ex—” you shudder, “—Exactly.”

And it’s then that Rooster decides to drag his mouth up and suck your clit into his mouth, causing a disastrous wave to shatter over you. “Fuck!” you yell, the tail end of it twisting into a sob as you clamp your hands over your mouth. It feels so good that it hurts.

“Please,” you whisper. You push your hand into his hair. Scrape your nails over his scalp. “Rooster, please – let me catch up.” He must hear something in your voice because he slows down. Slows to a stop, actually, before he pulls away, letting you catch your breath. As you breathe in deep, he leans over you, reaching to collect a pillow. On the way back, he kisses you softly.

“Too much too soon?” You nod against his mouth. “Sorry baby, ‘um being piggish. Budge up, let’s do this properly.”

You push yourself up and rest your head back on the pillow, just as he pushes one below your hips. When he goes back between your legs, he takes it slow.

Trails a line of kisses over your inner thighs, sucking bruises into the delicate skin as his palms stretch you open again, spreading you so he can see everything.

His soft kisses set your skin alight, a thin sheen of sweat building from how slow and leisurely he was being. The feeling builds and spreads over you steadily until you’re arching your hips up, whispering his name into the warmly lit bedroom.

Nails scratching over his scalp, your thighs coming up to clamp around his head but Rooster’s pushing them back, keeping them locked open as he works over you with his wide, flat tongue and skilled fingers.

Whispering against you, saying Shhh, pretty. Saying that’s it, and you’re fidgeting, gasping as he hits the right spot and fuck, it spurs Rooster on. Makes him nuzzle his nose against your clit and push his tongue into your hole, forcing you to curse his name and moan, high pitch and breathy.

“Mm,” you hum, shaking your head at the ceiling. “Fuck—oh shit,” you breathe, hand coming to your mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible even though it’s just the pair of you – is always just the pair of you, when it’s like this.

You bite into your palm, moaning around the skin as heat pools at your lower back. You clench together, spare hand clutching the duvet, and you grind up into his face, smearing his chin and lips with your slick.

“Fuck,” you spit, moving your hand again, not knowing what to do with yourself, and Rooster takes it and shoves it against his head, your fingers immediately coming to take a hold of the brown strands. You pull and Rooster obeys, moving upwards, tongue lapping at your clit until he sucks at it.

“Ohmygod,” you rush. White hot lightning shoots through you, your back aching and arching and you grab a hold of his hair, whining his name.

“Rooster, s’so good.” He groans, “say that again.” “You’re – I’m not. Not—” you gasp, arching into him. “—Not f-feeding your ego.”

He cackles, the sound exploding through him. Drags to a stop, and you whine, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“Please,” you whisper, trying to buck your hips and Rooster smiles. Starts mouthing at your inner thigh, mumbling out, “being mean to me baby, I don’t think I should give you what you want.”

Fuck you and your big mouth, because even if you were sensitive before, you want him now more than ever. Spent so long waiting for it, moaning his name into your palm as you made yourself come, and now that he’s here – you shake your head. “No Rooster – “you start, but he’s back where he was before, except now it’s quick and desperate, his tongue sliding your slick and his spit over your clit before he sucks it back into his mouth and you choke out, “Fuck! Shit, Jesus Christ,” as Rooster laughs.

The build-up had you panting, but now that he’s gunning for it, it’s new – it’s nearly overwhelming.

“mn’my god, I’m gonna come – Rooster, Rooster, Roos, I’m,” and your eyes roll back, hips arching up, your fingers in his hair pulling tight and he moans, nodding, sucking at your clit, breathing loudly and it’s wet and desperate and you’re coming, the feeling tight and all-consuming until it explodes, washing over you as your body shakes.

“Roos,” you whisper, the nickname you only use when it’s dark and he’s working you over so good, and then your brain goes blank, nothing but obscenities and the truth spilling out, 

ohmygod, ohgod, thank you. Shit, fuck – my’god, it feels so fucking good. Rooster. I swear, I’m. you’re – I’myoursimyoursimyours.

And you don’t have time to breathe, don’t have time for the feeling to let up before he’s pulling away, making you whine, then whine into his mouth as he reaches up to kiss you, pulling your legs tight around his waist, your wet pussy dragging across his stomach as you grind against him, the oversensitivity catching up with you.

You’re weeping at him.

All warm and gooey and loose-limbed from coming, and now Rooster’s kissing you, spreading you over your own mouth as he slips his tongue in, groaning from the taste and feel of you.

“Okay?” he whispers against your lips, and you nod, blissed out. Rooster slowly pulls away from you. He gets a look at you half naked and glowing from the comedown. Looks down at himself, and nearly cries when he sees your slick all over his top.

“Made a mess all over me, pretty girl,” he tuts, sitting on your thighs and reaching down to take his t-shirt off. You see his chest in the orange glow of the room.

See his muscles flex as he stretches up, his dog tags falling out of the fabric and resting on his neck. When his head comes out of the shirt, he drops it somewhere on the floor, and you’re left with a completely naked Bradley Bradshaw straddling your hips.

You suddenly feel overdressed, and with numb fingers, you reach down to try and pull your top off. You tug at the fabric, but it’s no use.

“Can’t,” you mumble, limbs jelly, and Rooster laughs down at you. You look up at him with a pout, giggling at his goofy expression. “Too good, huh?” he jokes, and you stretch up, rolling your wrists and wiggling your toes. “Can’t feel my toes yet.” “Lemme help you,” and he gets your shirt off, throwing it with his things. You manage to tug the straps down, but Rooster has to help un-hook your bra. You lay back down, and Rooster immediately bends down, kissing your right breast as you hold the other, running your thumb over your nipple. 

You fool around like that for what feels like hours. Giggling as he nuzzles his nose into a sensitive spot and gasping when he runs his teeth over It seconds later, body arching into his.

At some point, you notice the mirror on the wall beside the bed. Your eyes ghost over the glass, seeing the pair of you reflected in it – Rooster’s naked body hovering over yours, running his kisses over your cheek until he turns to what you’re staring so intently at. He immediately smiles.

“The other night, I had this dream about you,” he whispers against your cheek. “Yeah?” you whisper back, using the mirror to look at him. He’s so large. Muscular and tall, his body dwarfing yours in the mirror. “Mmm,” he hums, and his hand comes out, sliding over your waist. You feel it and see it, and it doubles the sensation. You make a small sound – one of shock and delight. Rooster hums, “—and it involved a mirror, too.” “Yeah?” you manage to whisper back again, too busy thinking about him fucking you in front of the mirror. Thinking about him pushing your cheek against the glass, giving you a front-row seat to the act.

“What if we—” he starts. “Yeah,” you quickly but in. Twist to look up at him. Rooster’s brows rise, “Yeah?” he whispers back, in awe. You nod, have to, before you change your mind.

So, that’s how you end up perched on Rooster’s lap, both of you facing the mirror. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands keeping you steady on his thick thighs, and he pushes his face against the side of yours, mouth meshed into your cheek.

His eyes flick to yours in the mirror, making sure you’re watching as his hands push your thighs apart. The cool air hits your damp pussy, and the tug of his hands stretches you open, letting the pair of you see your skin that’s wet with your slick and spit.

The air hums with your shared desperation, but Rooster’s taking his time.

Dragging out the moment with his deep stare and trained hands. Still sensitive from coming just minutes ago, his thick fingers brushing over the delicate skin of your inner thighs have you whimpering.

He grabs a palm full of your skin and uses it to tug you back against him, causing your ass and cunt to drag over his hard cock. The feeling goes to your swollen clit, forcing you to clench down, a sigh falling from your lips and Rooster sees.

Sees everything.

“Mm,” you hum, turning to face him instead of looking in the mirror. Rooster’s not having it, though. He hums an appreciative laugh, using a hand to take your chin and turn you back to the glass. Kisses you on your neck, chin, cheek, and whispers, “look at how pretty your pussy is, baby.”

Your eyes go down to his fingers, watching them slide inwards. Feel him brush against your heat, and he spreads you open, his mouth parting as he whispers, “look at that.” And you do. You do what he says. You watch as he lets go, too, and brings his fingers up to your mouth.

“Spit,” he orders, and you do that, too. Don’t even question it.

Why would you when you both know what you want?

Rooster watches as spit dribbles into his palm, and you watch as he brings it down between your legs and spreads it over your already wet slit, soaking you enough that it slides down your ass, leaking onto his thighs.

So fucking turned on that there’s so shame there.

No embarrassment, because Rooster’s looking at you with these dazed and dilated eyes, and it's intoxicating. He uses a few fingers to mindlessly rub at your clit, barely catching the nerve before sliding one through your slit, pushing just the tip into your swollen hole.

“I’m gonna make you come again, and you’re gonna watch, okay?”

Funny, how you fall into these familiar routines. These familiar patterns. Rooster would never dare talk to you like this in the field. Now, though, you’re chomping at the bit.

You swear you’re somewhere else.

Here, but not here. Feel all of his skin against yours, hearing him, but God, the way he’s looking at you in the mirror – all dark and deep and teasing – you’re in another dimension. It’s making you soft and malleable. Making your fingers tingle and your brow furrow as you try to calm yourself down.

Rooster watches as you pout and take a deep breath, sliding your hips back on his crotch and his hand follows, and the sensation triples when you feel his cock against the bottom of your pussy.

Rooster clenches his jaw at the feeling, humming as he grins, “or I can just fuck you now.” “Please,” you whisper, the word immediately coming out of your mouth. You slide back against his cock again, trying to be gentle, but god, you want the friction. Rooster feels it, and he hums, smiling against your cheek.

“You don’t wanna see?”

He slides his fingers through your slit, pushing his thick fingers against your clit. The deliberate movement forces your hips to jerk up, but Rooster keeps them steady with a tight grip on your inner thigh. He glances at you in the mirror, “You don’t wanna see how wet you get when you come?”

There’s something different about this moment. Something different about this interaction.

Drunk on him, spurred on by the distance between the pair of you – even if you have been working together. Seeing each other every damn day. Rooster looks at you. Takes you in, and says,

“Yeah, you do. Nod your head for me.”

You nod. Of course, you fucking nod.

“Yeah?” he asks, and his voice is filled with awe. “Yeah Bradley,” you confirm, and he kisses your cheek quick. The sweetness of the act makes you gooey, sticky, and sweet. But Rooster’s eyes get cloudy like he’s changed his mind about something. The smile he’s wearing twists into a smirk as pushes his cheek against yours and looks at you in the mirror, “Say, yes please.”

Secretly, you love it when he gets like this. You pout, annoyed at him, but you want it, and if Rooster wants you to be polite for him to get it, then polite you’ll be. “Yes please,” you whisper, and his smirk triples ten-fold. Kisses you softly, asks, “okay?” and you nod, pushing to kiss him again.

It’s then that he chooses to slide his fingers over your sensitive clit, making you sigh into his mouth. You fumble for him, one hand pushing into his inner thigh and the other reaching for his arm. “’ um’ gonna go slow, baby, okay?” he whispers, voice low and soothing. “Please.” “’ um’ gonna make it good.” “You, always--” you breathe, the brush of his touch making you clench up tight. “—Make it, good.”

Talking through tight gasps because you’re still sensitive from before. Still wet from his spit and your slick, and he oh so slowly pushes it inside of you, using his spare hand to take your chin and turn it to the mirror, forcing you to watch him push his fingers inside of you.

You make a high-pitched whining sound.

With your hands tight on your spread thighs – fingers curling into your skin – and his hand splayed over your throat and chin to keep you steady, you see it all. See how deep his fingers go, how easily you take them, and the way he watches it happen in the mirror, his eyes cloudy and lips parted. 

Have to lean back on him, have to drag an arm behind him and you lock it around his shoulders, fingers in his hair -- this new position spreading you wider.

“You comfortable, baby?” he asks, kissing you under your jaw. His fingers are inside of you, hand still spread over your throat – you’ve never been more vulnerable, and yet. “Yes,” you whisper and swallow against his hand. “Good,” he grins. “Because I’m gonna have to let your throat go. But you’re gonna stay there, aren’t you? Gonna stay steady for me.”

Yes, you wordlessly reply. Give him a small, short nod, and he lets go. Slowly drags his hand down, coming between your thighs, and you’re already full of his fingers, but now he’s teasing your wet clit.

Gently, trying to figure out how you want it – how much you can take.

He rolls the sensitivity out of you, hitching his fingers in such a way that he’s hitting your nerve directly, and you clench your fingers around his hair. Thighs shake, and you try and pull them inwards, but he smacks them back.

Laughs at your feeble attempt and says, I’ll stop if it’s too much. But it’s not that. It’s not enough.

You stretch your thighs as far as they’ll go, and his fingers sink deeper. Make you moan out his name, breathless and wanting. Rooster smirks against your neck and flicks his eyes up. Catches yours in the mirror and whispers,

“Look at how pretty you look with my fingers inside of you.”

You’re looking. God are you. Watching his eyes go cloudy, go desperate as he begins to swirl his fingers faster. Heat spreads through you. That familiar ache begins to build as he swirls and swirls and pushes. 

Keeps on going. Your body warms up, gets ready for the eventual, and you want it. Want to come and watch it happen, but shit.

You’re rutting against his hand, the two fingers he’s got inside of you pushing deeper, rubbing against your walls as you roll your hips. Ass pushing against his dick, too, and you feel it hard and thick beneath you, sliding between your cheeks.

See the tip of it, and you try and keep all of your weight in your thighs, try not to push against him, but the friction is too good, too necessary, and fuck, how have you not come yet?

How have you not come yet when he’s basically finger fucking your cunt and swirling your wet clit in these tight, controlled circles, and you’re in your head. So in this moment that you can’t let go, watching yourself, watching him groan and moan into your shoulder.

Rooster’s not rushing, he’s not going anywhere, but your skin is too hot, thighs aching too much, lower back burning and your clit is throbbing, it’s begging, it’s screaming, and you burst.

“Shit, Roos, I can’t, “you sob, shaking your head, tears pricking behind your eyes because you want it so bad. Have never wanted it like this, and you sag against him, fingers loosening in his hair and Rooster sees you faltering. Sees you giving up, then hears it when you turn to him, pouting, frustrated with yourself. “I can’t come.”

His eyes go soft.

You shake your head, voice quiet but wrecked -- “’ m’ so close but I can’t.”

Rooster must see it, because he kisses you quick, mumbling, “I got you, sweetheart,” before he’s pulling you up and round. He folds you over the bed, big palms hoisting your hips up, and you’re thinking, this is better, this is immediately better, while he takes his cock and lines it up with your swollen hole.

I got you, he’s mumbling, I got you, baby, gonna make it good, gonna make it so good for you -- cock slides between your folds, and you break, his real name pushing at your lips.

“Bradley,” you sob, nodding your head into the mattress.

You grip the duvet, legs spreading wider, and he groans deep. Says your name back to you, finding the right speed, the right angle, and shit, you gasp, because he’s hitting something devastating right now. Dick pushed up inside of you, fucking up in tight, rolling strokes.

Fingers pushing into your skin, nothing but your name on his lips as he fucks that spongey part inside of you that only a handful of people have hit.

Your legs start shaking, spit soaking the sheets as you grip it with your teeth, and Rooster’s watching it happen. Witnessing something carnal wash over you. He’s never been more turned on in his life. 

He gives you a hard, tight thrust, grunting, “is that it, baby?” and you sob, yes, into the blanket.

He gets giddy. Gets proud. Never happened to him before, and for it to happen with you. Well.

You gasp, the sound shocked and loud, your head turning behind to get a look at him. He’s beaming. Muscular chest red, jaw tight, eyes blazing – tags bouncing against his chest as he fucks you – and he catches your eye line. 

Smirks, before you whimper and clench around him, and his face is falling, twisting into a snarl as he groans, loud enough that it rattles through you.

“Jesus Christ,” he spits, and you fumble behind, nodding and sobbing into the sheets, silently asking for him to take your hands. He catches them, collects them at your back, and you can’t fidget, can’t run from it, have to take and take and take until finally, it gives.

Washes up and drags you under, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you’re silent. 

Completely fucking silent as you squeeze around his cock, until you’re not, until you’re talking, sobbing, shaking, moaning so fucking loud and it’s all sounds, strung out sounds that sort of, kinda, sound like words – too fucked out to be coherent. Babbling about him, babbling on and on about Rooster and it’s m’fucking God, you’re so good. I’m yours, m’ all yours, m’ all fucking yours, and Rooster comes. Comes hot and hard into your cunt, the white of it dribbling out as he fucks you, watching it slide down your shaking thighs. 

His grunts fill the room, grunts, moans, and sobs of, so fucking pretty, my pretty girl, and you’re on cloud nine. Spent, still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you’re beaming.

Full, so fucking full as he stays inside of you, pushed up tight, and his head finds your shoulder, his body bending over yours. 

His laboured, deep breaths blow hot air over your shoulder, and it soothes the spit from his kiss as he works his mouth over your back, not daring to pull out. Can’t. Feels too good. 

He feels exhausted – feels spent, but you’re so warm and tight. Familiar. 

So fucking familiar.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp, coming back to life. Rooster nods, smoothing his hands over your hips and ass, kneading his knuckles into the muscle as he slides out. “Mm,” you hum at the loss, thighs pushing together to quell the loss of him. 

His come leaks out of you, and when you relax your legs, he sees it smeared over the tops of your inner thighs. Using his wide palms, he turns you so you’re on your back, looking up at him in a daze. His smile is brilliant.

“You feel okay, baby?”

You nod, before reaching up to him with grabby hands. Rooster pulls you up, then pulls your body against him, keeping you steady. He kisses your cheek, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

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[mynameismckenziemae]

Unbroken

Part 13

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You

Summary: The physical changes you’re experiencing are taking a toll along with the hormones and mood swings but Bradley is there to help.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (f receiving), spanking, a little humiliation, orgasm delay/denial, use of ‘good girl’, funishment, edging, p in v, pregnancy talk, body image talk, mentions of vomiting/morning sickness.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Nervousness creeps back shortly after the ultrasound as Bradley drives towards the clinic, but it was all for nothing; Gav and Noah are happy for you.

“See? I told you they’d be okay with it,” Bradley says, nudging you with his elbow.

“You were nervous to tell us?” Noah asks, concerned. “Why?”

“Because you’ll have to pick up some of the slack with some of the unpredictable animals, not to mention when I’m on maternity leave,” you sigh, already feeling guilty.

“Just like you happily picked up the slack when I was off for 6 weeks for paternity leave?” Gav asks, cocking a brow.

“Yeah, or when my kiddo had surgery last summer and you covered for me?” Noah asks, squeezing your shoulder. “We’re happy for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks,” you reply, giving them both a hug before running to the bathroom to rid your stomach of the crackers you consumed down early.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you come out of the bathroom, belly still uneasy. “Hopefully that gets better soon.”

“I hope so for your sake,” Gav says. “Olivia was sick every day until her second trimester. Now take the rest of the day and we’ll figure everything else out next week, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, letting Bradley lead you towards the door. “Thanks.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Can we stop by my parent’s house before we go home?” You ask, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a nap but you know news gets around fast in a small town.

“Of course,” Bradley replies, turning towards your childhood home. “You sure you’re up to it though?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. “I want to be the one to tell them. Jake doesn’t stand a chance if Ma talks to him before we do.”

“Alright,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“What’re you two doing here?” Ruth asks as she washes dishes by the sink. “Figured you outgrew playing hooky.”

You laugh. “I did. I haven’t been feeling good,” you reply, waiting for her to turn around as you hold up the ultrasound pictures in your ring-clad hand.

“Still?” She replies, turning off the water. “Maybe it’s time to make an appointment.”

“I already did,” you reply, smiling as she turns around, gasping at the images of her grandbaby.

“Tom! Get in here!” She calls to your dad out the open window before rushing over with a sob and a hug. “Oh Emma Lou, I’m so happy for you both!”

“Me too,” you agree, sniffing into her shoulder, crying now too. “That’s not all,” you say, pulling back to show her the ring.

She gasps, turning to Bradley and holding his face between her hands. “I knew it! I knew you were the one,” she smiles at him before wrapping him in a hug. “I’m so happy I get to call you my son.”

Your heart pinches and more tears flow as Bradley hugs her back; you wish now more than ever his parents were still here.

“What’s all this?” Tom asks, pausing by the door with a confused look.

You smile before filling him in on all the good news and you melt as your not-often-physically-affectionate dad hugs him.

“Happy to have you part of the family, son,” he says, clapping Bradley on the back as he fails to discreetly wipe his eye before making his way to you.

“Congrats kiddo,” your dad smiles as he wraps you in his arms for a hug. “You doing okay?” He murmurs, and you can tell he’s remembering the last time.

“I am now that the initial shock wore off,” you nod. “The morning sickness is kicking my ass and I’m so tired, but otherwise everything looks good.”

“Good,” he replies, holding you a little longer.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The nausea wanes over the next week, while your libido multiplies tenfold. You’re craving rough, hot sex, but Bradley’s treating you like you’re made of glass and it’s driving you crazy.

“That’s the most action I’ve had in 2 weeks,” you grumpily tell Bradley at your first OB appointment as you change back into your clothes after the pelvic exam.

“Em, I-“ Bradley starts but is interrupted by the doctor coming back into the room.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“I’ll see you back in about 4 weeks then, let me know sooner if you need anything, okay?” The doctor says as she opens the door.

“Sounds good,” you reply, rising from your seat. “Thanks.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and make your next appointment, I just remembered a question I had,” Bradley says, kissing your cheek.

You agree, not thinking much of it until he joins you a few minutes later, cheeks ruddy and the tips of his ears red.

“What was your question?” You ask, now a little suspicious as you take the appointment card from the receptionist.

“Uh, I…“ he stammers as he opens the door to your truck. “I just want to make-“

He’s saved by his phone ringing. “Sorry, I’ve gotta take this, it’s my CO.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Your mood sours on the short drive home. The worst part is you know you’re being irrational but you can’t help it.

Bradley finishes the call when he pulls into your driveway and you get out, slamming the door before he gets a chance to open it.

“Em! Hey! What’s wrong?” He asks, jogging up behind you.

Your hands shake as you try and unlock your door and you shake his off when he places them on your waist.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” you lie with a huff, pushing the door open.

“Doesn’t seem that way,” he says softly, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, but I kind of have to take the call when it’s my CO.”

“I know, it’s not that,” you reply, frustratedly wiping hot tears. “I just want to have sex. I want you to want me like you did before I was pregnant. I know I was sick and I’ve been tired and I know my body is already changing and my boobs are getting huge and you can’t help it that you’re not attracted to me but-“

You gasp in surprise when he cuts you off with a deep, biting kiss. One hand weaves into your hair while the other slides down your back, into the pocket of your jeans, and pulls you into him so you can feel his hot, hard length.

You whine when his hand tightens the grip in your hair and he pulls you off his lips, forcing you to look at him. You shiver at the dark look in his eyes. “Does this,” he rocks against you and your eyes begin to drift but he pulls again until you open them, “feel like I’m not attracted to you?”

You shake your head as much as you can with the tight hold on your hair and bite your lip to keep from moaning.

This. This is what you’ve been craving.

“Exactly,” he groans as your hand comes up to palm him through his jeans. “Goddamn Em, the past 2 weeks have been killing me. I’ve wanted you more than ever. You’re somehow even sexier but I wanted to get the okay from the doctor before we did anything because of your previous loss.”

“That’s what you were asking the doctor? Why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask softly, hand pausing.

He nods, face flushing again. “Yeah, wanted to make sure what we used to do isn’t going to hurt anything. I also didn’t want you to think I was pressuring you, especially since I thought you didn’t want it,” he replies, kissing your forehead.

“Well I do want it,” you say, leaning back in for a kiss. You smile against his lips when he groans as you begin palming him again. “So fucking much.”

“And you’ll get it,” he murmurs and sighs before stilling your hand with reluctance, “but there’s something I gotta do first.”

“What’s that?” You ask, squeezing him before he pulls your hand away completely.

“You’ll see,” he replies with a nip to your bottom lip. The look on his face is full of dark, dirty, delicious promises. “Now go get undressed. I want you naked and on the bed when I come in,” he murmurs, turning you towards the bedroom before landing a slap to your jean-clad bottom. “Don’t make me wait.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Yes sir,” you say teasingly over your shoulder, catching the heat that crosses his expression at your words.

Once you’re out of his line of sight, you quickly peel off your clothes before lying back on the bed. The anticipation is making you desperate and your hand slips between your thighs, gathering your arousal before circling your clit.

You choke back a moan when your other hand brushes your oversensitive nipples; the light touch has your back arching as your release races toward you. A minute more of those sweet touches combined with the thought of Bradley catching you in the act is enough to push you over the edge. You bite your lip to stay quiet, tasting blood as you tremble through wave after wave of pleasure.

Bradley’s soft “fuck” startles your eyes open. The sight of him naked, gripping the base of his cock so he doesn’t cum has you rubbing your thighs together.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, as your head falls back to the pillows, “I couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Obviously,” he smirks, coming to the foot of the bed once he’s got himself under control. He grips your ankles and you squeal when he pulls you toward him.

He leans forward and licks into you with a satisfied hum. “God, you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you before flicking your clit and rising to his full height. “I was planning on making you cum before I do this, but you already did.”

“Before you do what?” You ask as he helps you to your feet.

But he ignores your question, instead kissing you like before. Again his hand combs into your hair while the other grasps the flesh of your ass. He kisses you deeply and possessively, leaving you breathless when he pulls you off him.

“What…what are doing?” you ask as he turns you around before bending you over.

A sharp slap to your ass steals the breath from your lungs.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago,” he says sternly as he rubs the sting out before laughing. “I’m kidding. Is this something you still want to try?”

A new wave of arousal rushes between your legs as you nod.

You whimper as he slaps your other cheek. “Use your words.”

“Yes, I want to try…this,” you answer.

Another stinging slap has you gasping.

“I said, use your words,” he repeats lowly, spanking you again.

“Yes! I want you to spank me,” you admit before burying your burning face in the comforter.

“There’s my good girl,” he purrs, and you squirm as he ruts against you. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“No,” you admit, turning your head to smirk up at him. “That wasn’t hard, but you sure are.”

He chuckles before giving you a few more sharp slaps. “Naughty girl.”

“Am not,” you laugh but it turns into a moan when he spanks you again, a bit harder this time.

Soon the heat from your burning skin settles lower between your legs and your slick coats your thighs. You’re again desperate for relief; the vulnerable position he’s put you in, the dominance that’s radiating off him and the naughtiness from it all is driving you crazy in the best way.

“I’m sorry for touching myself before you came in. Will you please fuck me now?” You rasp after he cups you with a groan, feeling how affected you are.

“Hmm,” he pretends to think about it as he licks his fingers clean before slotting his weeping cock between your reddened cheeks. “Not yet.”

You try to rub your thighs together for some friction, groaning in frustration when he gently kicks your ankles further apart.

“You’re in trouble for more than just touching what’s mine,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the knobs of your spine. His voice grows softer as he continues, “I don’t ever want to hear you say that I’m not attracted to you again. I’ll always want you; next week, in 8 months, when you’re delivering our baby, afterward, in 50 years…forever. Okay?”

“Okay,” you say, blinking back the tears filling your eyes. “Now will you fuck me?” You ask, breaking the heaviness as you push back towards him.

He laughs at your attempts against your back before lining himself up and slowly pushing in.

“Ye-no! Please baby,” you whine when he pulls out before he even gets all the way in.

“Not yet,” he says again with a dark chuckle before giving you a few more stinging swats.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley finally relents when your legs begin to tremble nearly an hour later. An hour that felt like an eternity with the sweet torture he’s put you through. Alternating between gentle pinches and tugs of your nipples as he fucked you with slow, shallow thrusts, pulling out again when you were on the cusp of release just to re-redden your ass before kneeling to lick up the wetness coating your thighs. He reveled in the anguished cries you made when he denied you again before repeating the cycle.

“P-please, oh God…please,” you plead when he finally thrusts all the way inside you. “No more teasing.”

“Alright. No more teasing,” he agrees, panting against your back as his hand slides over your side to find your breast to gently pinch your nipple. “You-fuck! You’re so good for me.”

Your hoarse scream is muffled by the comforter as an orgasm rips through you.

Bradley curses as you contract around him, slowing his thrusts so he doesn’t cum yet.

“More,” you mumble, pushing your hips back against his before you even come down. “One more.”

“Okay, my greedy girl,” he laughs breathlessly, sliding his hand down to rub over your clit. “I’ll give you one more.”

“I’ll do this,” you say, moving his hand to your hip and putting your own fingers where his just were. “Just fuck me hard. I wanna feel it tomorrow.

“Fuckkkk,” he groans hotly when you squeeze him as you find your clit. “Yeah, yeah, okay,” he agrees, finally giving you what you’ve been craving with deep, punishing thrusts.

“Like that, yes! Just like that,” you cry, each roll of his hips rubbing your g-spot.

“G-get there for me,” Bradley pants as he pulls you up, your chest against his back. Your head falls back to his shoulder as you approach the edge. “Yeah, that’s my girl,” he rasps when you begin to tighten around him.

You gasp as your vision goes white and your ears ring as you cum harder than ever have before. Bradley’s right there with you, unable to hold off when you clench around him like a vice.

He cums with a choked shout of your name as he releases deep inside you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Welllllllll the cat(s) are out of the bag. This was very much my experience pregnant-super hormonal and my mood changed so fast I gave my husband whiplash 🥴 the whole body image thing was a page from my own book as well, but of course Bradley knows just how to reassure her.

Also-Bradley definitely asked the doctor if rough sex would hurt the baby after doing an extensive Google search 😂

Also also-I’m wrapping this one up! 1 more chapter (I’m thinking at least).

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):

@mamamaystbr

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

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@mrsevans90

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@devil-angel-winchester

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun smut #jake seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader

[familyvideostevie]

october twenty-seventh

day twenty-seven: bradley "rooster" bradshaw you and bradley take a bath together after a long day | 18+, mdni, fem!reader, slight overstimulation, aftercare | 2.7k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, fingering, multiple orgasms (for f), overstimulation, bradley isn't mean per say but he encourages you to go for it, dirty talk, squirting, aftercare

Your favorite things after a shitty day are: a bath, a relaxing evening, and your boyfriend. Right now you only have the first two as you wait for the third to get home.

To compensate for Bradley’s absence, you light some candles and keep the lights in the bathroom low. The hot water smells like lavender and you’ve cracked the window so you can hear the rain, even if it’s a little chilly.

The same rain that soaked you on your way to and from work, since you forgot an umbrella. Just one of a long list of things that went wrong to make today one you’re glad to leave behind.

Your entire body relaxes as you sink into the bath and you moan embarrassingly loud. Bradley is due back anytime and maybe if you ask nicely he’ll sit with you for a bit.

Minutes pass, probably not many, since the water is still hot, when you hear the rattle of keys and your boyfriend’s footsteps.

“Hey, baby,” he calls.

“In the tub!”

He putters around, humming a tune you don’t know. You sink further down into the water and wait for him. When he does it’s like the last tendrils of tension in you fade away. He looks so handsome in the dim light, the strong like of his jaw accented in the shadows. He leans down to kiss you lightly and you rise from the water to meet him.

“Tough day?” he asks. “Missed you.” He sits on the closed toilet lit, eyes casually taking in your nudity under the water.

“How’d you know?”

Bradley smirks. “I know you. Baths after work are for tough days. Want to talk about it?” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. The pull of his biceps against his shirt stirs something in your belly.

“Got me there.” You bend one knee so it pops out of the water. His hand is on it immedietly, just to touch you. Both of you do this often — an anchoring touch, just a reminder that you’re there for each other. Bradley, especially, loves touch. “Nothing much to tell.”

His gaze is soft, full of the love you sometimes feel like you’re still getting used to. You’re literally naked in front of him and still he’s looking at you with adoration and concern. “You want to be alone?”

He always asks even if your answer is the same every time. “No,” you tell him.

His fingers press into your knee. “Want me to join you?” He’s kind of joking.

Actually, not a bad idea. He could do something about the growing ache between your legs. “Would you?” you ask shyly.

Bradley perks up. “Really? Hell yeah.” He stands. “Be right back, okay?”

He rushes to the bedroom and you hear the clink of his belt, a few curses. “Don’t hurt yourself!” you call.

He returns with a few more towels and sets them where he was sitting.

The sight of Bradley without a stitch of clothing never gets old. He really is unbearably handsome, far from shy about walking around naked. Every inch of him is worth looking at — his broad shoulders, tanned back and chest. The lines of his muscles, which are everywhere, and the dark hair on his arms and the base of his cock at odds with the lighter shade of his head.

And, god, his cock.

You’re well acquainted with his body by now but your mouth waters at the sight. He’s not even hard — he perks up a little under your gaze, though — but you think he’s gorgeous. Big, obviously, and you know there’s a vein running along the underside that you love to drag your tongue over. It’s pink where the rest of him is tan and it’ll only get pinker and curve a little to the left when it swells.

“Buy a guy dinner first,” he says. You snap your eyes to his face and he winks at you.

“Whatever. You getting in or what?” Your face feels hot but hey, can you be blamed?

“Where do you want me?”

You scoot forward. “Behind me? I want to lay on you.” Any place you got together had to had a bath big enough for you both, and Bradley is…a lot of man. This tub mostly fits the brief, but it’s snug and some water splashes over the sides as he climbs in.

With some effort you both settle, his legs under yours, his chest warm and firm beneath you. And yes, his cock hot and heavy against your ass. But he makes no moves to do anything about it.

“Comfortable?” he asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. Being near him really does relax you, even if he also makes you horny. “You?”

“Course,” he laughs. “I come home from work and the most beautiful girl in the world asks me to get in the bath with her. I’m as good as I can be.”

You snort and shift a little. He hisses and you apologize.

“No, don’t,” he says. “Can’t help it, though. But we’re relaxing, so as long as you don’t do that again we’ll be fine.”

Well. “We don’t have to just relax,” you suggest.

Bradley’s chest rumbles. You lean your head back on his collarbone to see his face. He’s smirking. Always fucking smirking, this guy. “That’s how it is, is it? It’s your bath, sweetheart, you tell me what you want.”

His eyes slide to yours. You nod. His hands, which were on his own thighs, gently lift your knees so they’re bent, sticking out of the water. He drags his fingers down your thighs under the water and you inhale sharply.

“You had a tough day,” he coos. “So I think it’s only right I take care of you, hm?”

You nod, maybe a little too frantically. Bradley shifts underneath you and more water splashes onto the floor. You can’t find it in yourself to care. The change in position and water level means you’re half out of the water between his legs. The cold air makes you tremble a little, makes you clench around nothing.

“You spreading for me?” Bradley says into your ear. His face is so close it feels like his voice is in your head.

“I — yeah,” you say, prying your knees apart. But he doesn’t touch you where you want him most, not yet. Instead, he caresses your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He pinches and then soothes, pinches and soothes, and your breath gets heavy.

“Most perfect tits I’ve ever seen,” he says. “Look like a dream, baby, and I’ve barely started.”

“’Cause you’re such a tease,” you mutter.

“What was that?” he rasps.

You clear your throat. “You’re a tease, Bradley.” He laughs and it sounds devious.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” he asks. “Think we can get you coming twice? Three times?”

If you weren’t half in the water you’re pretty sure you’d be dripping by now. His hands finally leave your breasts alone and make for your inner thighs, stroking up and down.

“Three,” you gasp. “Three, please.”

Bradley nibbles on the shell of your ear. “If you say so, gorgeous. Let’s start slow, huh?”

He circles your clit with his middle and ring finger slowly. You sigh at his touch because he’s finally getting at the ache you’ve been feeling ever since he walked in the bathroom.

“Can feel how wet you are even in the water,” he murmurs. “Kinda wish we weren’t in here so I could hear how this sounds, yeah?” He presses one hand to your abdomen when you buck your hips. “Let’s see how you taste.”

Your eyelids are heavy, your mind already struggling to find words to talk back to him. Normally you give as good as you get in bed with Bradley, but today you’re tired and maybe you really should just let him take care of you.

He presses two fingers into you for just a few seconds, holding them there before pulling them up and out of the water so he can suck on them.

“Oh, god,” you moan. He makes a show of it, licking them clean right near your ear.

“Tastes good, baby,” he says. “Your cunt is a wonder, you know that? Looks perfect, feels perfect, tastes perfect.” You writhe on top of him at his words. He doesn’t tease you for long, returning his attention to your clit quickly.

“Bradley —” your voice breaks off.

“Shh,” he coos. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you. You just feel it, okay?”

His circles get faster then slower, faster then slower. He alternates directions, dragging his fingers through your folds a few times but always returning to his assault on your clit, which by now is swollen and aching.

“How we doing, huh? You close?”

You nod frantically. “Yeah, I — don’t stop, please —”

His chest rumbles. “I won’t, sweetheart, don’t worry. C’mon, come for me —”

Your orgasm builds and builds and builds and he doesn’t let up on your clit and then it crashes into you and you jerk in his hold, hips coming out of the water as your cunt clenches around nothing. A long keen crawls its way from your throat and his fingers slow as you come out of it.

But, wait, you still feel the pull low in your belly. You grab his wrist to keep it between your legs.

“I can do another, I can feel it, Bradley, don’t stop —”

He obeys. “You sure?” Sometimes, if everything is just right for it, you can come again almost right away. Usually it’s when he’s fucking you, cock buried deep and brushing your most sensitive spot, but sometimes it’s like this. When you’re boneless and at his mercy but all he wants is to make you feel good.

“Yes, please, I can do it, faster, just like —”

Your second orgasm slams into you. It’s different from the first, quick and hard where the first was a slow build and a snap. Your knees fall together as Bradley keeps his attention on your clit through it until you tug his hand away, your whole body trembling and your breath coming in pants.

He lets you come down from it, hands on your knees, thumbs stroking your skin. You realize you can feel him rock hard against your back but you don’t spare a thought for it. He said this was about you and you know he meant it.

“Got another in you?” he asks once you regain your breath. You know that if you said no, if you wanted to get out right now, Bradley wouldn’t mind. But he hasn’t even fucked you with his fingers, yet, and the thought tightens the hook in your belly yet again.

“Yes,” you say, as firmly as you can. “Can you…use your fingers this time?” He was already doing that, technically, but he knows that you mean. He always knows what you mean.

He presses a kiss to your temple. The water is lukewarm at best by now but neither of you cares much. “Sure can. Ready?” You nod.

He switches hands. “Gotta give you a fresh one for this,” he says. It makes you laugh, and then gasp when he repeats his previous pattern on your clit. “You want these inside, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan. “Yes.”

Bradley drags them through your folds a few times before pushing into you. He doesn’t move for a few breaths, as if he’s considering something. And then you feel his fingers curl inside you, feel his pinky and index press into the curve of your ass and you know what he’s decided.

It’s only happened a few times — you squirting. He’d been so in awe the first time but you thought maybe it was a one and done. But Bradley, ever the determined partner, has gotten it out of you since then. It’s filthy and freeing and you both love it.

“Think you can do it?” he asks. “Think you can soak me?” You clench around his fingers in reply and grab onto his thighs. “Atta girl.”

He doesn’t give you another moment to prepare. It’s not so much fucking you as pressing as hard as he can onto your most sensitive spot over and over, curling his fingers just so to produce a never-ending sensation of pleasure.

It’s so good it almost hurts, the build of your orgasm flirting on pain, a vice-like band around you as he keeps a punishing pace, whispering praise in your ear as you moan, as you groan, as you writhe and dig your nails into his skin. You feel out of control, in free fall in the best way and you know Bradley will catch you.

“You gonna squirt?” he rasps, low and filthy in your ear. “You gonna drench my fingers? Gonna get me all wet, too?” His babble doesn’t really make sense, given that you’re both in the bath, but it’s working. You feel the pressure, feel the contraction of your muscles as he presses and presses and presses into you. “C’mon baby, you can do it, I know you can. Show me what this perfect cunt can do, I’ve got you —”

The squelch of his fingers in you is loud and the slap of the water is louder and you feel it the second before it happens, a damn breaking, and then you’re squirting all over his fingers. He pulls them out of you and rubs your clit as you come, the sound that tears from your throat high and desperate. Your legs go tense and then shake as soon as it’s over, as your vision comes back and you find yourself boneless on top of Bradley once again.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Good job, baby.” He doesn’t touch you apart from palming your breasts as you come down. “You okay?”

You nod.

“Tell me, please.”

“I’m okay,” you say. “God, yes, I’m okay, I —” He presses his lips to the side of your head and you quiet. His hands rest heavy on your stomach, a comforting and grounding weight.

“Bath is a little dirty now, huh?” You laugh breathlessly and make an effort to get off of him. He stops you with a gentle hand to your sternum. “Hey, no, take your time. That was…a lot.”

You slump back onto him. “Yeah, it was.”

He nuzzles your neck. “You did good, though. Really good, baby.” You rest your hand over his on your stomach and squeeze, hoping he gets the message. You’re good to me. You always make me feel good. Thank you for taking care of me. Your brain is a little too fuzzy for much else.

“Bradley,” you say, once your breath comes back to you. “I don’t know if I can get up on my own.”

“You’re gonna give me a big head, baby,” he says, teasing. “I’ll get out first then help you, okay? We can take a warm shower. You can sit on the bench, if you want.”

“Okay,” you manage. He gently pushes you off of him and makes it up and out without slipping.

“No funny business in the shower, Bradley,” you say. “I mean it. I don’t think I can handle it.” He helps you out of the bath and wraps a towel around you, brushing your wet hair from your face with gentle fingers and sitting you on the toilet lid. You feel a bit fragile but in a good way.

“Don’t worry, baby. Just showering. I’ll wash your hair.” This is Bradley’s version of aftercare, which you love. He kisses your forehead. “Well, I’m going to jack off after you’re done, but don’t worry about that.” He does look painfully hard.

You take his word for it. “I’ll call for pizza when you’re…doing that.”

“Smart girl.” He releases you to pull the drain on the tub and turns to start the shower.

“Hey,” you say to his back. He turns to you as he has his hand out, checking the water temperature.

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you tell him. He smiles like he always does when you say it.

“I love you back.”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick smut #top gun maverick fanfiction

[goldustwomun]

soul meets body (b.b.)

BASED ON THIS REQUEST...

pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x gf!reader

summary: you begin to question whether there’s something wrong with you when bradley refuses to touch you, little did you know you’d got it all wrong.

warning: smut, obviously; masturbation, fingering, lots of sweethearts, some jokes; it wouldn’t be my writing if there wasn’t angst so prepare yourself; but a whole lot of fluff & praise to top it all off <3

wc: 3.6k+

note: this is based off of the above request!! fair warning, this is unedited, but it’s my first ACTUAL attempt at smut so be kind xx i literally intended for this to be a short blurb but it ended up being a monster of a oneshot so please enjoy & reblogs are much appreciated :))

update: finally edited :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Check my rules before hand!

“Where are you going?” 

“Somewhere! Anywhere!” you hurtled back, rifling through your closet for a pair of trousers or sweatpants or–  fuck, anything that you could wear to walk out of the door in a more decent state than you currently were, legs on display in the baby tee and frilly panties you had on.

You’d hoped the (admittedly scandalous) look would have tempted him, even a little bit, to place his hands on you. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere and all you did was kiss for a bit – you needed something, anything, and it was driving you crazy.

He’d been avoiding you like a plague anytime you tried to initiate something, whenever your hand crept a little too high on his thigh to be deemed appropriate, or you shuffled back into him when you were in bed together so your hips were pressed close. But he always came up with an excuse – either tired or busy or just not feeling it. 

So you were done – done humiliating yourself in front of the one person you used to feel the most comfortable with.

“Sweetheart, stop that,” he chided, voice soft and pleading. He stood by your side, watching as you shoved your foot into the wrong pant hole. Bradley couldn’t help but laugh, hiding behind his fist as you stumbled in between your angry movements, but your hard glare shut him up quick enough as he mumbled a stuttered apology.

“Will you tell me why you’re angry? What did I do?” he asked, and you pointedly ignored him, instead choosing to flip him off as you finally buttoned your jeans and turned towards his room door. You hated how he spoke to you, like you were a little child pouting at the cookie jar. 

You’d been spending the weekend at his place like you had countless times before, already having moved some of your necessities into his cupboards and by his sink. There were glimpses of your relationship all over his apartment, and all it did was make you want to rage harder every time you stumbled across them. 

“Come on, sweets, please,” he begged once more before sighing defeatedly and grabbing your arms so you’d have no choice but to look at him, explain what it was that had caused such a sudden outburst. 

You finally met his stare, taking in his dishevelled state – hair pointing in every direction and unzipped pants that you’d tried to get down minutes earlier. The two of you were curled up on his bed, watching a film like you always did on a Sunday night. Only, Bradley was highly invested in Maria’s singing of “Do, a deer, a female deer” to the Von Trapp children (you had put on ‘The Sound of Music’), but your mind had travelled elsewhere. 

You’d let the hand that was resting on his clothed stomach wander, just a little lower as you traced lazy circles into the soft material of his t-shirt. You thought you were being at least minutely discreet as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, mouthed kisses into the sensitive skin there. He’d squeezed your barely-covered hip in admonishment, but it only motivated you to try harder. 

Slipping your hand lower, you unzipped his pants, propping yourself up onto your elbow as you breathed, all sultry and hot, into his ear, “Bradley, please, I want you.” You’d thought it was quite good, had read and watched enough to know it was what guys liked to hear. But rather than throw you down on the bed and take you like you wanted, he’d clammed up instead, sputtering on about how he “didn’t think that was a good idea.” 

So here you were, caged in by his long limbs and silently fuming. “What did I do?” he repeated. There was a hardness in his voice that told you he wasn’t in the mood for excuses this time. You’d just have to embarrass yourself a little more. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. If you said it any louder, you were certain you’d erupt into mortified flames. 

“What?” He was looking at you funny, like you’d grown a head or two in the time it took for you to speak.

“I said, is there something wrong with me?” You were more annoyed than upset now, hating that you had to repeat such ugly thoughts of yours. 

“No! God, no. Why would you even think that?” His hands moved to hold your face, rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin of your cheeks. 

“Because you won’t touch me!” you fired back, hating how he’d easily smothered the fire burning inside of you with such little effort. When it came to him, you had no control over yourself. You were like pliant putty, melting in his palms the moment he got close. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me for weeks, and– and– you just won’t! It’s like I’m diseased or something, Bradley, and I swear I’m fucking not!” 

You were breathing hard, all furrowed brows and pouting mouth. He didn’t say anything in defense of himself and his stupid, infuriating actions, so you continued. “So if I’m not diseased, there must be something else wrong with me, and I’d really like you to explain because it’s getting to be fucking exhausting, and humiliating, considering how much I’ve thrown myself at you!” 

He was shaking his head at you and you were struck by the urge to slap the crooked smile off of his perfect face. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. You’re fucking beautiful, way out of my league, even. I mean, look at you,” he cooed, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You were so, utterly, completely tense by then that you felt the aftershock of his lips zap right between your thighs.

You were fucked. 

Except, not really. 

“So then why won’t you–”

“Because you’ve never had sex before, and I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be as close to perfect as I could get because you deserve it.” Now it was his turn to flush red out of embarrassment, like he couldn’t believe he’d just admitted his scheme to you. 

“I– What?” 

“I had it all planned out. Our anniversary is coming up soon, and I have some time off then, so I was going to make dinner, put on a movie, dim the lights a little – speaking of, I was going to install a light dimmer! Looked up how to and everything,” he vented. “I wanted– I want your first time to be something worth remembering.”

You grinned up at him, rising to the tips of your toes as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring the two of you closer. You kissed him long and slow as his own hands dropped to grip your waist. When you broke apart, finally needing air before one or the both of you passed out, you laughed at the confused look on his face.

It wasn’t every day that you had Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw at a loss for words.  

“So… you’re not mad?” he offered, pecking your cheek. 

“Me? Mad? Of course I still am, but I get it,” you replied, unwinding one of your hands to rest on his chest. “But listen to me carefully, Bradley, because I’m only going to say this once.” He nodded, the picture of concentrated seriousness. “I don’t need dinner, a movie, or dimmed lights. I don’t need something special or pre-planned or whatever you deem to be perfect for me. 

All I need is you. I’ll only ever need and want you,” you spoke the words against his lips, fingers already trailing down his front once more to tug at the loose waistband of his unzipped jeans.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, sweetheart, I can do that for you.” He hurtled into action as he kissed you hard and fast, shuffling forward until the back of your legs hit the bed. His hands were in your hair, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you couldn’t help but curl your toes every time he moaned into you, feeling the vibrations rocket through your body. 

Bradley shoved you back until you fell against his covers. You laughed at how rushed his movements were, like if he didn’t feel your skin against his soon, he’d collapse in a whimpering heap. 

“I fucking love you, you know that right?” He undid the buttons of the obnoxious Hawaiian-printed shirt he had on, throwing it behind your head. He crawled onto his knees, caging you in with his arms and rock-solid body as he left sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collarbones. 

You were already shaking with anticipation. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone this far with him – you were a virgin, not virginal. But something about the way he kissed you, touched you, the visceral electric charge in the air – it felt different, and it felt fucking amazing. 

“Want these off you,” you mumbled against his lips, pushing his jeans as far down his hips as you could reach. He groaned in agreement, the two of you tearing a part so he could kick them off whilst you tugged your t-shirt off, nipples perking at the cool air. 

Bradley’s eyes widened at the sight before him: stretched out in front of him, you lay waiting, in nothing but your panties with miles of skin on display for him to bite, kiss, suck. 

He was in heaven, and he wanted to take you there, as well. 

Sure, he was staring at you, just about devouring you by sight alone, but you couldn’t get enough of him either, had already reached down between you to slip your fingers under your panties, stroke, slow and deep, against your clit. It took a moment for Bradley’s brain to catch up as he watched you, mouth hung open – either in shock or amazement, you couldn’t quite tell. 

“Fuck. That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praised, swiping your hair out of your face as he leaned forward to get a better look at your fingers working against yourself. You were moaning loud, now, crying out his name like a prayer. “Get yourself nice and wet, and I’ll see what I can do about that ache between your legs,” he promised with a short kiss on your lips. 

You nodded, stupidly enthusiastic, tugging your underwear down to be tossed aside so that you were bare underneath him. He swore under his breath, ducking his head down to nip at the skin around your nipples before tugging it into his mouth. He sucked and sucked and sucked and – fuck, you could come like this. 

“You gonna come, sweetheart? I haven’t even touched you yet, not really.” His voice was deliciously taunting and you did your best to shoot him your meanest glare, but it was hard considering how much you were shaking, hand moving faster and faster as your slick dripped down your trembling thighs. 

“Fuck– Fuck– Fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut. Your unoccupied hand grabbed onto Bradley’s bicep, nails digging crescents into his skin – you wanted to see constellations all across his body by the time the two of you were done. 

And you were there, almost. Teetering at the pinnacle of a precipice that you knew would be worth it once you were on the other side, but your mind was going numb and your wrist was starting to get tired, so you pouted up at the fixated man above you, might have begged in between your mindless moans. 

The next thing you knew was your hand had been nudged to the side, and Bradleys fingers slipped between your folds, collecting the juices there before fucking them back inside you. You were going to combust, you were sure of it. Fuck constellations on his skin because you were already seeing them against your eyelids as your fingers struggled to remain still, your hips bucking off his mattress the moment his thumb joined in on the fun, pressing against the tight bundle of nerves you could feel throbbing alongside your heartbeat. 

You came on his fingers in no time, the two of you panting, hot breaths mingling between you. Bradley leaned down, nipped at your bottom lip as your mouth was left open, too exhausted to even think. He held the glistening tips of his fingers, drenched in your slick, up to your face. Your eyes opened in time to watch him slip them into his mouth, groaning at the heady taste of you, you, you.

“I love you,” you croaked, surging forward to melt against him as you licked into his mouth, tasting all of yourself on his tongue. 

“Fuck, that was hot.” His voice was rough like gravel and it grated against your skin in a way you’d never experienced before. You squirmed beneath him, snapping the waistband of his briefs against his hip bone. 

“Off,” you commanded, determined to not let the momentum wane. He raised his brow at you, never having heard you so defiant, especially not when the two of you were in bed. You leaned up on the palm of your hand, the other tilting his head to the side as you sucked bruises into his chest, into his collarbone, up his neck. “Please,” you added sweetly, not stopping your attack on his skin. 

“Jesus fucking christ– I’ll take them off but you’ll have to stop, sweets,” he grumbled, not entirely wanting you to stop but knowing it was only going to get better. You relented, toppling back with a huff as he stood up and off the bed, pushing his briefs down. 

Your gaze went straight to his cock. You could see where the precum was shining against the purple tip, traced your stare across the throbbing vein that ran down its side, mouth watered at the tufts of neat hair at the base. You were screwed.

“That is the plan,” he pointed out, a cheeky grin plastered to his face. You must have said out loud and you retaliated with a kick to his exposed chin. He caught your ankle before you could make contact, clicking his tongue at your inability to sit still. “I won’t fuck you if you don’t play nice,” he scolded, tone unforgiving as he dropped your ankle and instead, reached into his bedside drawer to pull out a condom.

He looked you in the eye as he ripped the packet open, rolling it down his prick in smooth and precise movements. Like before, you really think you could come just watching him. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and this wasn’t the first time you found yourself thanking whatever higher power there was out there for letting you be this damn lucky. 

Bradley placed his knee onto the bed, assessing the situation. His cock bobbed, you could tell it was painful from the way his hands were balled in fists and how deep his breathing was, like he was trying to force his body to slow down, to relax – all for you.

“I think–” he cleared his throat, his nerves seeping into his words. “I think you should be on top. You’ll have more control, can stop when you want– go at your own pace,” he stated decisively before joining you on the bed. He laid back against the headboard, holding his hand out so you could slip your legs on either side of his waist. 

You didn’t sit down, not completely. “You’re sure about this?” you asked. His mouth quirked upwards as he tugged you closer, your chest falling against his. You could feel his heart hammering through his chest, through your own. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he shot back, palms smoothing idly up and down your hips.

“You know what I mean. We’re a partnership, you and I. I’m sure, just need to know you are as well.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. Instead, he nodded, met your mouth with his. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m yours.”

Your hands were trembling when you reached for his aching cock, sitting up on your knees, hands wrapped around the base as you angled it to your opening. You were still slick from your fingers, from Bradley’s as well, and fuck were you ready. Ready to be so utterly connected to the one person you loved, the one person who understood you, probably better than you did yourself. 

He helped you, slipping his own hand around yours as you sank down slowly. You’d barely gotten past the tip before you stopped, eyes squeezed shut, now from the pain rather than pleasure. “I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he soothed, placing barely-there kisses against your shoulder as you trembled in his arms. 

“Holy sh–shit,” you groaned, not expecting the shooting pain. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, simply holding each other. You could imagine how hard, literally, it must have been for Bradley, but he never let even a flicker of frustration cross his face. He was entirely steady, unwaveringly there for you.

You shifted on your knees, sliding an inch or two down, and Bradley halted your movement with a tight grip on your waist. “You sure you’re good. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He was searching your face for anything, everything – any sign of discomfort or regret, even if it was slight. 

“It’s– fuck– it’s fine. It hurts a little less, let’s just try,” you managed to whisper. You took the rest of him, hiding your face in his neck as you did so, as the pain tore through you from the inside out. You knew it was going to hurt but, fucking hell, they’d never mentioned this in health class. You’d had things up there, toys, your fingers, Bradley’s fingers, but this was completely foreign to you. 

Throughout it all, Bradley held you close. His words and resolute presence never wavering. And eventually, after what could have been seconds, minutes, hours – you weren’t sure, the pain lessened enough for it to almost become pleasurable. You tested the waters, pulling your hips back, then forward.

The pained groan that fell past Bradley’s hips told you all you needed to know – even if it wasn’t entirely good for you, you’d do it again if only to hear him make that noise again. “Are you okay?” you mocked, rocking your hips, again, and again, and again. He couldn’t speak, mouths forming words that never made it past his lips. His head fell back, hitting the wooden frame as his blunt nails dug into the skin of your hips, of your ass, of whatever skin he could grab onto as you rode him. 

“You’re going to– fuck– be the death of me, I– shit! – swear it,” he panted, capturing your lips in his. You continued your teasing movements for a while, relishing in the way he held you tighter, moaned louder, gaze darting across your sweat-covered body. 

“And if I did this?” you questioned, voice laced with innocent, but your actions did little to reflect that. You gripped his shoulders, raising up until his tip was barely still inside you, before sitting down completely. You gasped at that, cunt clenching around him as the first sparks of ecstasy shot through you. “Oh–”

Bradley grinned that all-consuming smile of his, bent his knees and lifted you up before bucking his hips up, into you. Your mouth fell open at the sight, couldn’t stop yourself from staring at how his cock slipped in and out of you. “You look fucking beautiful, sitting on my cock like that,” he professed, his own gaze locked at where he pounded into you. “And you’re taking me so well– knew you would.” 

“F-fuck, Bradley. I can’t– fuck! It’s too much, too much.” Your words were unintelligible as that familiar rush of heat consumed you. You could feel it spreading to the tips of your fingers, to your toes, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. 

“That’s alright, sweetheart. You’ve done so well, just let go, that’s it,” he coaxed, fingers returning to your drenched clit as his hips continued their incessant hammering, coupled with the steady strokes of his fingers. 

You quivered around him, mumbled thank-yous caught in your throat as your body arched, then collapsed into him. “I love you, sweetheart. Fuck– love you so much.” He kissed his confession into your skin, melting back into the pillow as he clutched you as close as humanly possible. 

“What about you?” You lifted your head, vision still swirling from your second orgasm. “You didn’t finish.”

“That’s okay, I’m alright,” he assured, rolling over so that he’d slip out of you. “You’re stuck with me sweets, so we have ages for you to make it up to me.”

 Bradley left a comforting kiss on your hip bone, eyes meeting yours as he did so, before he walked over to the bin to peel the glistening condom from off of him. It took him a while to find his briefs, but he eventually slid them on, before venturing into his bathroom.

You were entirely too spent to even pay attention to whatever he was doing, but soon enough, he returned with a wet towel and positioned himself at your waist.

“Just gonna clean you up, then we can sleep some more, sound good?” he offered, carefully wiping at the inside of your thighs and up your slit. He tossed the towel to a distant corner in his room before sliding under the covers, tucking you into his side.

He sighed, sleepy and content. “So, was I any good?” he prodded, smirking down at you. 

You scoffed at his easy arrogance, rolling your eyes. “You know you were, Rooster. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” he fired back, but kissed the side of your head and relaxed into you, into your warmth. 

He wasn’t wrong. You made it up to him the next morning, and the one after that, and the other after that…

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