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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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Up the Ante

Summary: Rooster had heard the whispers. He knew what the stories were about- the ones that had followed him and Hangman around for years. You, however, are more than happy to find out for yourself if all the rumors were true.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Length: 9K+

Warnings: Smut. So. Much. Smut. (MINORS DNI)

(author's note: I regret nothing. Enjoy!)

Leave it to Jake Seresin to fuck up his plans.

Rooster had been in a really great mood when he’d arrived to the Hard Deck earlier that night. He’d beat most of the team there and had been on his way to go claim the pool table before the Friday night rush when he’d seen you out of the corner of his eye sitting at the bar.

He’d nearly given himself whiplash trying to get a better look at you. And then the next thing he knew, he’d found his feet taking him up to the stool right next to you. The mission to get the pool table completely forgotten.

And he still didn’t know how it was possible, but you were even prettier up close.

Even with the low dip of your creamy silky looking tank top, with all your skin taunting and teasing him, his eyes had stayed on yours the whole time as the two of you talked. That smile of yours was a bit too knowing. He could sense you were waiting, daring him to slip up.

Just for fun, just to see.

Yeah, you had his number alright. There was no question about it.

And fuck, if he wasn’t already down to let you toy with him whichever way you wanted. His cock twitching in his already slightly too snug jeans when he’d caught you checking him out after he’d ordered a fresh round of drinks from Jimmy.

The busier the bar got, the closer the two of you were pushed together as the other patrons clamored around waiting to place their orders. His forearm grazing against your exposed back from where he had it braced on your stool to keep you from getting jostled by thirsty sailors.

He’d stepped away for a moment when Natasha had called him over to back her up in a game with Reuben and Mickey. He he’d left you with a promise to be back, not wanting to come on too over bearing by not giving you any time to yourself. The groundwork was laid and he didn’t mind the wait.

He could be patient, he knew a good thing when he saw it.

And of course, when he’d looked back over his shoulder. There was Hangman with his elbow leaning on the bar, standing in the spot he’d just vacated. And looking at you like the cat who’d caught the canary with that fucking toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Rooster really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d felt the other aviator’s gaze on him as he’d talked to you, could sense him waiting in the wings ready to make his move.

After the Uranium Mission, their tentative truce had grown into a casual camaraderie. But that didn’t mean they still didn’t enjoy riling each other up.

Jake had a tendency to steal his beer when he wasn’t looking, swapping it out with his empties behind his back. Not to mention, the way he liked to rack up a bill of Bradley’ tab.

And Bradley had no problem unplugging Penny’s jukebox approximately two minutes after watching Jake feed the machine his quarters before taking over on the piano. Playing whatever songs made the other man grimace the most.

But it had been years since they’d done this.

When the two of them had first met, their competition to be the best and one-up the other had spilled over from the skies into pretty much everything else. If one had flight simulation scores were topping the chart, then the other was figuring out how beating it. If one was benching a personal record, the other was already tacking on extra weight to their own.

So then, if one was talking to a pretty girl at the bar, the other was usually waiting for his moment to try and out charm, out talk, or out smile the other behind his back.

Or in front of his face.

Neither of them had cared to play fair back then. The bragging rights plastered across the winners face the next morning on base.

Rooster thought he’d made his intentions very clear. For all intents and purposes, he had claimed dibs. Well, as much as he could on a woman who was fully entitled and capable making her own decisions.

Now he was half way across the bar, watching as Hangman threw his cowboy hat into the ring.

“Jesus, Rooster. Stare any harder and you’re going to strain something, man,” Payback teased as he lined up his shot, before sending the freshly racked balls scattering on the pool table.

Bradley doesn’t respond, just brings the lukewarm beer to his mouth and downs the remaining few swigs. His hand tightening around the bottle as you throw your head back to laugh at something that Hangman has said, the sight of your exposed throat makes his mouth go dry.

“You know what they say, the more the merrier. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Fanboy says with a laugh that gets cut off with a wheezy, breathy oof.

Looking over his shoulder, Bradley sees Phoenix looking down at Fanboy shaking her head at him as she dropped a couple there-there pats on the doubled over man’s back.

“Please that rumor has been around for years,” Nat stated, “Before we got called back, those two could barely be in the same airspace, let alone in the same bedroom.”

“I don’t know, I bet there’s more to that story. I heard-” Payback starts.

This time, Bradley turns around and raises an eyebrow. The conversation quickly finds a new subject, and he goes back to glaring at the back of Hangman’s head.

He wasn’t unaware of the pointed looks and whispers that had followed him and Seresin around.

Everyone seemed to have their own opinions on the topic. They did. They didn’t. A friend of a friend had seen them leave with a girl. A buddy said they saw them fighting in the parking lot over who got to take her home.

He didn’t care about the speculation, he’d even heard some pretty interesting drunken theories along the way. Any tips to sneak a girl in the barracks for a hookup in the laundry room? How can three people even fuck in the back of a Bronco? Or his favorite, I heard y’all did the Eiffel Tower in the ATC tower.

But he wasn’t one to feed the fire. He didn’t know the other man’s reasons for not indulging the curious questions, but Hangman must have felt the same way, since neither one of them had yet to confirm or deny the story.

It was easier to just grin and shrug and leave them guessing.

From his spot stationed at the pool table he could see there was interest in your eyes at you looked at Seresin. Just as he’d seen it when you had looked at him with that same keen perceptiveness, the heat that lingered behind the teasing. And fuck, if that didn’t make him want you even more.

He liked a woman who went after what she wanted.

That pull low in his stomach had been there since he’d first seen you and had only gotten worse as he watched Jake try and get under his skin.

It would be almost comical the way the asshole turns his head just enough in his direction to shoot him a wink before settling his hand on the top of your thigh, if it didn’t make his blood thrum hot in his veins.

“Bradshaw, it’s your turn.” He hears one of them try and get his attention, but 8-Ball wasn’t what he wanted to play right now.

He had a stake in a different game going on.

If you wanted Hangman over him, he would respect that. But he sure as shit wasn’t going to fold, not when he still had a hand worth playing.

“And there’s the cock walk…” he hears Nat mutter as pushes off the pool table to make his way across the bar.

He knew how to turn heads and how to work a room. But there was only one head he wanted to turn, only one person in the room he wanted to work. He was going to his damndest to ensure it was his bed you’re in tonight.

Bradley is downright shameless in the way he struts right up to the two of you. Letting his chest brush up against you as he claims the seat next to you. He murmurs your name low and raspy as he settles into the stool, catching the way your hips shift subtly in response. That pull behind his bellybutton only intensifying.

You don’t look surprised to see him, if anything you look intrigued. That full bottom lip pinned between your teeth, your cheek ticked up like you’re fighting back a satisfied smile.

“Well if it ain’t Rooster,” Hangman drawls, those dimples deepening with every passing moment, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Bagman,” he grunts taking the whiskey from his hand. Feeling smug when your eyes latch on to his throat, watching as he swallows it down, savoring the warm burn of the free drink before he presses the empty glass back into the other man’s hand. “Looks like you’ve scored yourself another admirer, pretty girl. How’s he measure up? You can be brutally honest, it’d be good for him to keep his ego in check.”

You tilt your head at him, “So far I’ve got no complaints.”

“Damn straight you don’t,” Jake winks.

“How generous of you,” Rooster says, ignoring the other man completely, as he sets his hand on your leg.

He has always been a sucker for a pretty troublemaker.

Your tongue dips out to lick the rim of your glass, before taking another sip of the drink that he didn’t buy for you. “Oh, I can be very generous,” you all but purr.

“I bet,” Hangman cuts in, looking on entirely too pleased with himself.

Rooster leans in closer to you, “I thought I was the one buying your drinks tonight.” He can smell the faintest hint of your perfume, and he has to hold himself back from the urge to run his nose along the column of your neck to get a better whiff of it.

“I’m an equal opportunity drink receiver,” you say with a little shrug of your shoulder.

“Mhm, sounds good for the economy,” he allows.

“I do love to support small businesses.”

“There’s nothing small about it, baby,” Bradley says sliding his palm up higher on your thigh than would be considered decent. From the corner of his eye he can see Hangman clocking the movement. That shit eating grin going from teasing to knowing as he flips that stupid toothpick in his mouth.

“Was wondering how long it was going to take you to make a move,” Jake says reaching under your stool and pulling it out further from the way you’d been half tucked underneath the bartop. “Thought you were gonna just keep staring all night.”

“Nah, just thought I’d give you a fair shot. You know, since you usually rub people the wrong way,” Rooster smirks.

“Oh, now you and I both know I’d treat her just right,” Hangman says smoothly, not missing a beat. “You think you can keep up with a pretty thing like her, old man? Wouldn’t want to keep you from your Dan Brown novel or anything.”

“I’m sure I got a thing or two I could show you, son.”

The other pilot takes your chin between his thumb and finger turning your head to look at him, that grin bigger than ever, “You up for settling something between us, darlin’?”

Rooster is close enough to hear the hitch in your breathing and definitely close enough to see the way your thighs squeeze together.

“I guess that’s one way to up the ante,” you say as you reach up to pluck that toothpick from his mouth and popping it in yours instead. Grinning slyly around it as you uncross your legs to turn back towards him, your eyebrow cheekily cocked up and questioning.

Rooster’s eyes drift over to Seresin’s mouth. That cocky smirk plastered on his face takes him back to another time, on another night similar to this, when his lips had been slick-shined and that smile just as smug and self-satisfied.

He’s not sure how many bills he tossed on top of the bar before he grabbed your hand and tugged you off the stool, towing you with him as he strode to the door. Not bothering to check and see if the other man is following them, he already knows where he’ll be.

Bradley holds the door open for you to step through under his arm and the last thing he sees before he lets the door close behind him is Nat’s shocked face and Fanboy’s fist punching the air as Jake trails after them.

You felt too hot.

Your breathing was already coming out in ragged, breathy pants.

The ride to Rooster’s house in his bright blue Bronco had been a blur of flashing lights and warm summer air and a hand heavy on your knee. Content in the passenger’s seat, even as he sped fifteen miles over the speed limit, in the surety of knowing whose headlights were bright and beaming in the rearview mirror.

But the feeling of two hot mouths working their way up and down your neck was definitely not a blur.

They’d had you pinned up against Bradley’s front door the moment it had shut behind the three of you. Barely waiting for the snick of the lock turning before making their move.

You weren’t sure whose thigh was pressed between your legs, but the solid width of it was dizzying as you rocked against it. You feel almost too aware of every part of your body. Your skin sensitive and responsive to every graze and touch of their strong, capable hands as they coast over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps and raised hair with every pass.

Squeezing your hips. Tangling in your hair. Gripping your ass.

Their hard bodies were so tightly crowded against yours, that you weren’t even sure at this point if your own legs were the ones keeping you up as they took what they wanted and gave what they wanted.

Your puffy, swollen lips tingling as they took turns claiming your mouth with theirs.

It’s a lot, but in the best of ways, to hear their combined moans and groans over the thundering of your pulse in your ears. Their leather and wood smoke scents mixing together in the most deliciously heady way. All their solid angles and ridges pressed against your soft curves.

You’re vibrating with anticipation- with want- as your heart flutters in your chest like a caged bird, its wings beating against the too tight confines of your ribcage.

It’s already so good and no one is even naked yet.

One of them wraps their thought provokingly large hand around your throat as pulls you in to meet their mouth, gentle yet firm. The taste of whiskey and the brush of a mustache against your upper lip giving Bradley away. While another hungry mouth glides its way along your collarbone. The graze and nip of sharp teeth has you breaking your kiss to gasp at the sensation. Only to be met with a new set of demanding lips, you can feel Jake’s smirk against your mouth the moment right before he slips you his tongue.

Your own hands are greedy to get their fill of them. Running along thick forearms and broad chests and straining zippers. You want to map out every contour of their sculpted bodies. Every new muscle you find only makes you want to discover more.

There’s a moment when you think your knees might actually give this time out when Hangman bends down to take your peaked nipple in his mouth through your thin top with a mischievous gleam in his green eyes as he looks up at you and then hollows out his cheeks. The sight and sensation of it makes you suck in a shattered breath. If it weren’t for that thigh, Rooster’s you know now, keeping you upright you very much would have been a boneless puddle on the floor.

“You still think you can handle the two of us?” Jake challenges you with a dimpled grin before pulling you back into his mouth. Your nails dig into the back of his neck to keep him there, and he has the audacity to hum around you. The vibrations of it pulsing and spreading and settling over your craving clit.

“Well?” Bradley asks teasingly when you try and fail to reply, his warm hand sliding up your stomach under your top to palm at your other breast. And whatever you were going to say evaporates at the feel of his calloused thumb scraping over your taut nipple.

His curls are a mess and that look on his face promises the best kind of trouble.

“Fuck. Fuck. B-bedroom. Now,” you stutter and stumble over your words, overcome and overwhelmed. You hear one chuckle near your ear and the other moan into your throat at the neediness in your voice.

The three of you are gracefully uncoordinated in way you work your way to Rooster’s bedroom. You let them manhandle your pliant body around the furniture and corners of his home. What should have been a fairly straight shot turned into a meandering mess as your back is met with walls and doorframes and mouth is met with seeking and searing kisses.

Their shirts and belts and shoes lost somewhere along the way. A trail of items to be found later, laid out like points on a treasure map.

Inside Bradley’s room, your distracted eyes catch on some black and white landscape prints hung on a dove gray wall and a California King pressed another. Minimal, modern, manly. You’d be more nosey if it weren’t for the way you’re caught between them, as Hangman licked up your neck and Rooster ran his tongue along the backs of your teeth.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps as the cool air of Bradley’s air conditioning wafts over your arms. Not that your low-cut top with its open back and flimsy straps offered much for warmth to begin with, which was exactly why you’d worn it in the summer heatwave.

One set of demanding hands works on the button of the fitted jeans that made your ass look great, while the other insatiable pair grabs at the hem of your top pulling it up and off of your body with silky ease. They work together in quiet tandem with such swift efficiency that leaves you almost entirely nude, with the exception of your barely-there panties, before their greedy eyes in no time at all.

“Don’t know what a desperate little thing like you is thinking by wearing white and lookin’ like an angel,” Jake drawls low and taunting against your ear, his breath warm as it sails down the column of your throat, “But since you like the color so much, I think you’d look even prettier wearing our come.”

The flickering flame in your body that had been lit before you’d even left the Hard Deck finally roars to life at his coarse and crude words. You’d almost be offended by them if they weren’t the reason heat explodes like a fireball low in your stomach. Devastating and all consuming.

The noise that tears out of you in response isn’t one you think you’ve ever made before. Your head whips towards him so fast it makes you a little unsteady on your already wobbly legs, and you feel Rooster’s fingers flex on your hips before you pull away.

There’s a wide grin plastered on Jake’s face, only a couple impeccably white and straight teeth away of being down right self-satisfied.

Smug, he’s so damn smug.

He has been ever since he saddled up to you at the bar, like he already knew how the night was going to end. And you don’t know whether you want to wipe that look off of Hangman’s pretty face or to taste those dimples on his cheeks.

You do neither.

Instead, you push Jake onto the edge of the bed, your hands going straight to his zipper to pull out his cock, then watch as that perfectly-perfect and perfectly-infuriating smile falls from his face as you sink to your knees and take him in your mouth and down to the hilt.

“Jesus Christ.”

It’s your turn to be smug now as you watch his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows hard.

Jake’s smirk is long gone, replaced with intense look as you pull off of him to lick and lave along the long vein on the side of his length, looking up at him from beneath your mascara darkened lashes, before drawing him back in your open mouth. He’s so handsome like this and it makes your stomach tighten and seize.

“So damn eager,” you hear Rooster croon over the slippery sounds of you’re making.

You feel confident and totally at home in your own skin under the appreciative eyes of the two men, with Hangman in front of you and Bradley mere steps behind you. The buzz from your tequila had worn off long ago, and the thrill you are feeling is a different kind of high.

You were already wet before you left the bar, but now you are soaked. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on, at least not for a very long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Bradley could see the evidence of your arousal glistening between your thighs from the way you’re kneeling in front of Jake.

From the corner of you eye, you can see Rooster taking his time as he shucks off the rest of his clothes haphazardly before fisting himself in his big hand as he takes in the sensual scene in front of him. You can feel all the places his eyes linger and trail over, those flames in your stomach spreading over your body like a wildfire.

Grateful for the work Bradley did getting your jeans off earlier, you slip a hand into your panties to get your fingers on your aching clit. You whimper at the instant relief that you feel as you touch yourself. Keening in pleasure around Hangman’s cock, which makes him widen his legs and throw his head back to moan in response.

This wasn’t going to be some hook up cloaked in the cover of a dark room. No, you were going to be on full display for them, just as they’d be for you. And the thought of it up makes you clench against nothing.

You were something brilliant and radiant to look at and you knew it. You wanted them to look, you wanted their eyes to take their fill.

“You going to join, Rooster? Or are you back to sittin’ on that perch?” the blonde goads him, with a sharp smile. His voice strained around the edges of his words as his fists clutch at the fabric of the duvet cover beneath them. “I’m sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied even though her mouth busy at the moment.”

You reach up with your free hand and give that chain a little tug then dragging it down his chest, your nails digging slightly into his firm pecs before scraping down his abs. He surprises you with a light thrust of his hips that has you settling that tricky hand on his tense thigh for better balance as you continue to work him.

“Just watching how our girl is touching herself,” Bradley replies as he walks over. He is such a sight with all that sunkissed skin on display. “So needy, she can’t even bother waiting her turn.”

You hollow your cheeks around Jake for good measure before releasing him from your mouth, to grasp him in your hand, treating him to a twist of your wrist, “Got tired of waiting, had to take matters into my own hands.”

You wanted them to touch you, to feel them everywhere. You wanted to be taken apart and put back together. You wanted to be thoroughly wrecked by them.

“That so, huh?” The way that Bradley’s smile ticks up makes you suck in a sharp breath, your restless fingers making sloppy circles against that sensitive part of you at the sight of it. “Tell me, how wet are you?”

He looks so good standing next you from your position on your knees and if both of your hands weren’t already busy you’d be reaching out for his heavy cock.

“Why don’t you come find out for yourself?” you dare him, arching your back a little for his benefit.

“But you look so pretty taking care of yourself,” Rooster says cupping your cheek in his hand, then turning his head to the man seated on the bed, “Hey, Seresin, don’t you remember her saying something about her generosity?”

They grin at each other before looking back down at you, and it’s all you can to not squirm under their weighty, heated gaze.

“You know, that does seem to ring a bell, Bradshaw.” A wolf trussed up like the boy-next-door.

“Why don’t you show us just how generous you can be, pretty girl,” Rooster says reaching down pulling your hand out from your panties, his hand wrapped around your forearm, and offers up your shiny fingers to the man you’re kneeling in front of.

Hangman holds your gaze as his tongue reaches out to meet them. Your already erratic heartbeat sets a new rhythm as it slips and glides in a sensual show around them before curing around them to draw them into his cocksure mouth. A deep satisfied hum emanating from his chest as he tastes you.

Bradley releases his hold on you and skims his fingers up along your arm and up the side of your neck, massaging that tapered divot at base of your skull.

Your jaw falls open as you watch Jake bob his head on your fingers like you had been doing on his cock not even five minutes earlier. He shoots you a filthy wink was you watch the debauchery up close in personal, leaning in closer, mesmerized by the sheen of spit coating your fingers. He pulls them from your mouth with one more lewd lick, and then crooks his pointer finger under your chin and turns your head towards Rooster.

“Why don’t you be a sweet little thing and show Bradshaw what he’s missing out on, darlin’,” Jake says, its less of a suggestion and more of a command. One you are happy to oblige.

You hold your tongue out for Rooster in an open invitation and he rumbles his approval.

“Now that’s a pretty picture,” Bradley murmurs, but doesn’t move any closer. He waits for your dazed eyes to meet his heated ones, before nodding his head towards Hangman, who you’re still pumping him with long, smooth strokes, “Go on then, finish what you started. I can wait.” You make a noise of dissatisfaction at being denied the taste of him. He chuckles lightly, “I promise, we’ll take real good care of you soon.”

And with that promise you wrap your lips around Jake again. He spreads his legs wider to accommodate you as you reach to cup his balls in your hand, massaging them.

You feel Rooster settle his hand heavy on the crown of your head, his fingers threading in your hair, before pressing you forward, guiding the motion of your mouth on Jake’s cock. Encouraging you to take more, more, more before pulling you back, only to urge you forward once again.

It’s easy to lose yourself and relax into the push and pull of it as you let them take over. Letting them use you how they want, preening under their crooning praise. Hangman is looking down on you with half-lidded eyes and gives you a slow, wide smile when a thick thread of saliva drips on to your sternum and down your chest.

Your attention-seeking clit throbs in time with your rapid pulse, whimpering pitifully when you can’t get any relief no matter how you shift and squirm.

Then Bradley is tugging on your strands to get you on your feet and meets you for a heady kiss. He hooks his thumbs under the band of your panties and pulls them down your legs, a little lacy heap to decorate his floor.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

Yes, yes, oh yes.

Jake shoves his jeans down the rest of the way and kicks them off. The way he climbs on the bed is all easy grace as he props himself against the headboard. You’re quick to clamber up on your hands and knees between his legs, looking over your shoulder for Rooster’s nod of approval before you lean down to take him back in your mouth.

There has been so much build up. You know that they’ve been easing you into this in their own way, but you’re so desperate for more. You’re like balloon overfilled and taut, one right touch and you might burst.

“God, you’re already so wet.” You feel Bradley’s rough squeeze on the backs of both your thighs followed by the comforting caress of his thumbs, “C’mon, show me that pretty pussy. Let me see it.”

You tilt your hips up, up, up- you want, you need- offering yourself to him until you’re treated to his tongue on you. At last. His wide long licks have you canting your hips further searching for more. The feeling of his lips and mustache against that delicate part of you makes you cry out in satisfaction.

“So greedy,” Jake teases, as his thumb runs gently along your jawline.

He is hot and heavy on your tongue. There is a light sheen of sweat coating his chest, his abs flexing and contracting with every uneven breath. That chain around his neck winking at you from the lamp in the corner of the room. He called you an angel earlier, but he’s the one who looks like sweet sin, a heavenly hedonist.

The filthy sounds of your messy mouth and Rooster’s satisfied groans filling the room as you work one pilot and the other works you. You can feel your orgasm building swiftly, those flames from before being stoked by their grasping hands and teasing lips and dirty words.

The shock of the feeling two of Bradley’s thick fingers glide and curl into you without any resistance, of having something inside of you for the first time all night, sends your body jolting forward. Your hands clutching at the sheets as you sputter and gag around Jake.

“Holy shit,” he pulls you off of him with a pop, a line of spit stretching from your mouth to his glistening cock, “Don’t want to come in your mouth.” Hangman takes your head between his big hands, cradling you carefully. “Goddamn, look at you. You feelin’ good?” It’s all you can do to rapidly nod your head yes. “You should see her, Rooster, she’s real close.”

You hear Bradley chuckle huskily behind you, “And we’ve barely even gotten started.” He targets that spot in you with merciless precision as he scrapes his mustache along your spine dropping kiss after wet kiss. “Now, come on my fingers like a good girl.”

And with his raspy voice in your ear and Jake’s tongue in your mouth, you shatter.

It’s all white noise as one of the maneuvers you gently on to your back as you come down. The feeling of the cool sheets a welcomed sensation on your heated skin. Even though you’re still reeling, you can hear the warmth in their voices as your mind clings to a few select words.

Good. Perfect. Soft. Sweet. Pretty. Generous.

You feel a body shift above you, their sturdy weight only an echo of what it could be if they weren’t holding themselves aloft. Your eyes float open to see Rooster caging you on his bed within the shelter of his sculpted arms.

Next to you Jake is propped up his side, the graze of his fingertips is featherlight as they meander up and down the length of your arm. As if he is content to simply be touching your soft skin.

“You still having fun?” Bradley asks with a knowing smile on his face. Using his thumb, he wipes at some of the saliva smeared under your bottom lip.

“The most,” you grin, turning your head to capture it between your lips.

Rooster watches you in rapt as you suck, giving his thumb the same treatment as you’d given Hangman’s cock, all wet tongue and hollowed out cheeks. The pupils of his pretty brown eyes blown wide. His cock resting heavy on your stomach.

“We’re gonna make a mess out of you,” Bradley promises as he presses his thumb down on your tongue. You look up at him with your best doe-eyes, parting your mouth to give him a better view of the way it pillows around his thumbpad. He applies a bit more pressure with a smirk before removing it from your mouth completely.

“Yes, please.”

He leans in close and your eyes flutter shut at the anticipation of the brush of his lips on yours.

And then he spits right in your waiting mouth.

“Atta girl.”

His smile grows at the whine that comes out of you. He drops a kiss to your forehead and stands back up, towering over you. It’s a visual feast of abs and broad shoulders and tan skin and mischievous eyes. “Pretty sure you almost made Jake see God,” he says looking over, giving the other man a lazy smirk.

“Fuck off,” he says without heat and laughs. Leaning over from where he’s been lounging next to you, he wraps his hand around the nape of our neck and pulls you in, licking deep into your mouth wet with his pre-come and Rooster’s spit. “How’s about you finally show Bradshaw what that pretty mouth can do, while I settle up and repay the favor.”

You don’t know what to make of the look that passes between the two men as they switch spots. It’s a challenge, it’s a dare. You’re still loose-limbed from your orgasm, but you can feel the tension starting to coil low in your stomach again at the glint in their eyes as Bradley crowds up next to you on the bed while Jake stands at the end of it.

Rooster kisses up along your body, his tongue darting out to taste the beads of sweat that are collecting in the valley of your breasts. If you listen closely you can still hear the whir of the air conditioning, but it’s not of much use when you feel like an inferno.

You sigh out when his mouth meets yours. You grasp his face between your hands to keep him close, not wanting to be denied his lips again. Your thumb stroking at the cleft of his chin. Finally. Finally. Finally. You feel like spun sugar, the wet slide of his lips against yours makes you feel like you’re about to dissolve into sweet nothingness.

There’s no hesitation in the way that Hangman situates himself between your parted legs, easing one over his shoulder and then the other. He trails butterfly kisses from your knee and up the inside of your leg. You shiver at the sensation, luxuriating in his touch.

“Condoms?” Jake asks into the crease of your thigh.

You shake your head and let go of Bradley’s face to tap at the spot on your upper arm where that flexible piece of plastic is placed under the skin. They nod their understanding, their agreement.

At least someone still had their feet on the ground, because it feels like your head is in the clouds.

“Thought you said I’d look prettier covered in come?” you try to tease but it just comes out breathy, throwing Hangman’s own words from earlier back at him. Then turning your head to look at Rooster next to you, “Thought you were going to make a mess out of me?”

You know you’re playing with fire. However, you also know that if at any point you couldn’t handle the heat that they would haul you out of the kitchen themselves.

But why stay out of the kitchen when you can just set it on fire yourself?

“Jesus,” Jake curses and nips at your hipbone.

“Fuck’s sake, you really can’t help yourself, can you?” Bradley huffs amused but strained, his eyes raking over you.

The nope and the ‘P’ you were planning to pop gets stuck in your throat as Hangman pins your legs open to the bed, holding you down so you can’t escape his tongue as he licks a hot stripe through the center of you. Your jaw drops open wordlessly.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Hangman grunts and then dips his tongue into you again.

One of your hands flies into his sandy blonde hair, while the other reaches out for the sunkissed man next to you. The feeling of Rooster’s fingers lacing between your outstretched ones grounding you as the pressure starts building again.

Where Bradley had been all enthusiastic delving and relentless devouring, Jake is all honed accuracy as he flicks and circles and sucks your clit. There’s no slow build up, he’s not content to simply let you sail smoothly into your next orgasm, not with the way his fingers are working you. No, Jake is set on being the one to push you over that edge himself. And he’ll do it with a blinding white smile and a tip of his hat.

Bradley moves to kneel by your head, stroking his thick cock a few times before offering it to you. The groan that comes out of him when you lick the underside of him before taking him in your mouth is quite possibly one of the hottest sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. His large hand comes to cradle your jaw as you bob up and down on his length.

It doesn’t take long until you’re keening and moaning around him as you come alive under their eyes and touch.

“You look so pretty like this,” Rooster murmurs, his thumb alternating between gliding around your stretched lips and caressing your bulging cheek. “You’re taking my cock so well.”

You know you’re making a mess out of him, but if anything, you feel him grow even harder in your mouth as you take him further into your throat. The sounds coming from you obscene as you lick and suck and swallow around him. You’re trying to stay focused on taking care of him, but Hangman’s tongue and fingers are making it hard for you to concentrate.

Jake is relentless with the two fingers he has working inside of you. His other hand smooths up your torso, long fingers stretched wide, as if he is trying to touch as much of you as possible. And then he’s grabbing at your breasts, massaging one and then moving to the other.

It’s getting overwhelming with so many points of pleasure all vying for your undivided attention. You feel so good, too good. Your chest is tight with want it’s getting harder to take a full breath, the shallow shaky things you’ve been taking making you lightheaded.

You blindly mouth at Rooster’s cock and balls and thighs, whatever you can reach and latch onto as you let your hand take over stroking him. Just for a moment, just to catch your breath.

You whimper when Bradley pulls away from you, only to feel his big body slide down on the bed next to you, his warm hands soothing over your too tight skin.

“That mouth too much for you, Rooster?” Jake grins with shiny lips before slipping a third finger into you, curling them against your front wall, making you keen.

“I know, it’s a lot, but you’re keeping up with us like a champ,” Bradley says to you, pulling you in for a kiss. He reaches down for one of your thighs, pulling it off the other pilot’s shoulder and over his own hip, holding you open. His hand knocks Hangman’s thumb out of the way and his takes over making nonsensical patterns on your clit, making you moan at the contact. “And you should go back to making yours more useful,” he lobs back to the man between your legs.

In your haze, you wonder how they can even share the skies if they’re this competitive in the bedroom.

“Yeah, and what’s yours doin’ up there?” Jake asks, giving it right back to him. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers slide in and out of you, as the Bradley picks up the pace of his movements against you.

“Someone’s got to tell her how good she’s doing,” you can hear the smile in Rooster’s voice as he kisses your neck. He gently runs his lips and mustache along the shell of your ear, “We know how much she like a compliment.”

“Bradley.” The admonishment is lost in your gasp as the faintest graze of his fingernail again your sensitive clit has your back arching off the mattress and your hips bucking against both sets of hands.

“You sound so wrecked, baby. I like how my name sounds in your mouth when you’re all fucked out like this.”

“And those whimpers? I swear, she making the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard,” Hangman tacks on.

You want to give as good as you’re getting, but your hurtling towards that point again. Already teetering back and forth, almost but not quite there. Overwhelmed, oversensitive, but still needing, wanting...

“More, I need more, Jake,” you’re not quite begging but you’re close, your heel is digging into his shoulder blade, urging him closer. “Jake, I want to come.”

Your clit is aching under Rooster’s teasing touch, and you are squirming and shifting and rocking trying to get more of Jake’s fingers inside of you. You groan when Jake pulls them out of you completely, stopping your motions with a rough grip on your hips. Somewhere in the back of your mind you find yourself hoping that you’ll still be wearing his fingerprints tomorrow morning.

“Nu-uh, greedy girl, you’ll take what we give you,” Hangman says as he stands up and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, a streak of your wetness shining on his cheek.

And then his thick cock is pushes into you and all the air leaves your lungs.

His thrusts are measured and slow and sure. Filling you up and then leaving you empty, over and over and over again. His fingers are still digging into your hips leaving you at his mercy, to take what he gives you. Nothing more and nothing less than what he wants.

You didn’t know All-American Texan boys could pull of such a dirty look of pure debauchery, but he wore it so damn well.

There’s no holding back the noise of frustration that comes out of you when Rooster’s teeth graze over your breast, before he sucks your nipple into his hot mouth. He is hard and hot as he grinds himself against the curve of you.

It would be so, so good if didn’t felt like you were bobbing along in a wooden barrel waiting for a drop over Niagara Falls. The anticipation of that freefall thrumming in your veins, but one that never seems to get any closer as you dangle there.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine.

Jake pushes into you with that same devasting slowness and then stops, his hips pressed tightly against yours. “I’m inside you, aren’t I?” he challenges with a raise of his eyebrow.

You don’t want to agree, what you want is to come. With great effort on your part you reluctantly nod your head, hoping your cooperation will get him to speed up or go harder. You’d literally anything to stop feeling like a butterfly with its wings pinned open and preserved.

“Then I ain’t teasin’.”

Those dimples are on full display, as he pulls out leisurely, letting your feel every bit of him, and then pounds into you.

You’re thankful when he takes pity on you and the rolling of his hips picks up. Harder, faster, deeper. His chest is flushed pink, making that golden chain stand out even more. A bead of sweat works its way down his neck, between his defined pecs, and travels along the contours of his sculpted body.

“Jesus, did you talk this much last time, Seresin?” Rooster asks, pulling his mouth off of you to watch as his own fingers and Hangman’s cock work together in sync between your thighs.

“And he said I was the mouthy one,” you all but pant out.

You tug on his curls trying to get him to put his mouth back on your breast, his spit cooling on your nipple making it pebble more than you thought possible. Instead, he just smirks down at you, and applies more pressure on your clit. Those nonsensical patterns transforming into tight devastating circles.

“I need… I need-”

“Such a bossy thing,” Jake mutters, “Only thing you need to be focusing on, darlin’, is falling apart for me.” The edge in his voice and the strain of his thighs as he thrusts into you the only things giving him away that he’s just as desperate as you are. “Rooster wants to watch you come. Isn’t that right, Bradshaw?”

“Sure do,” he agrees against the pounding pulse point on your throat. You don’t need a mirror to know the delicate skin is agitated from the coarse hairs of his mustache. The heat rolling off of him in waves is a contrast to the draft of the air conditioning hitting your body just right from the way he has you spread open over his hip. “I wanna see that pretty face as you come around his cock.”

Your fingers scramble to find something, anything to hold on to. Feeling like the seams of your skin, those silken threads of the last of your resolve, fray and snap. Rooster’s eyes holding yours as you start to unravel.

The sound of skin on skin fills your ears, followed by Hangman’s ragged breathing as you flutter and clench against him. “You feel so fucking good around me,” he moans, “Such a perfect pussy.”

Lightening hot pleasure races along your spine before shooting out along your muscles and tendons and ligaments, all the things keeping your body together. And your mind whites out as you come for them.

You feel Jake’s rhythm falter and stutter as he works to get himself closer of that place of perfect devastation, as you shutter and quake from the aftershock. He fucks into you harder chasing his own climax before emptying himself inside of you.

His cock buried so deep in you as you take his come. The two of you both breathing hard.

Bradley slips his wet fingers into your mouth and you lave the taste of yourself off of his skin almost in a daze as you wait for the gravity to settle into your weightless limbs. His lips are gentle as he trails soft kisses along your hairline, his hardness pressed against you a reminder there’s still more in store for you.

You whimper when Jake pulls out of you.

“Knew you’d look good like this,” he says running his hands along the tops of your thighs and watching as his come trickles out of you onto Bradley’s duvet.

Rooster takes his fingers from your mouth and nudges his nose against your heated cheek, “You still got more in you?”

He pulls away, those brown eyes searching yours.

“Want your cock,” you whisper and lean in for a kiss. He meets you with tenderness, while you meet him with heat. Licking into him the moment he parts his lips for you.

Hangman gives your thighs one last squeeze and lets go.

“Come ‘ere,” Rooster grunts as he shifts and pulls you on top of him, lining himself up with your dripping cunt. You don’t dare look away as he slowly feeds you the generous length of him, inch by inch.

You drape yourself across him and burry your face in that spot between his neck and shoulder at the stretch of him as he fills the space between your legs. Feeling the muscles of his arms wrapped around you. His wood smoke scent filling your nose. The salt of him on your tongue as you lick at the sweat that’s collected along the line of his collarbone.

It is dizzying being this surrounded by Bradley, he’s everywhere.

“How are you still so tight? You literally just took his cock,” he rasps.

You feel a hand brush back some of the hair from your face and you turn your head into the warm touch. When you open your eyes, you see Jake crouching there by the bed next to you, his green eyes filled with affection, “You doing a good job for Rooster too?”

“Yes,” you sigh as Bradley hums his agreement. The deep, languid roll of hips as he thrusts into you, working you open for his cock, is so good that it makes fingers dig into his biceps.

“Good girl,” he says, nipping at you ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Keep doing her like that, Rooster, her legs are startin’ to shake.”

And then he lands an open-handed slap to your ass that makes you clench and Rooster groan as he laughs lightly to himself, entirely too pleased.

It’s a masterpiece of teeth and tongues, moans and gasps, and dirty praise rumbled into ears. When that telltale tightness in your stomach starts, you begin rocking back against him desperately. Meeting him thrust for thrust. You’re so coiled in knots that not even the most seasoned sailor could untangle you.

You can feel your orgasm rising up to meet you. So close, so close.

And then choking down a sob as you’re pulled upright to a sitting position astride Bradley, with Hangman’s forearm banded around your waist and supported by his dewy chest.

“‘s too big,” you whimper.

“Ah, ah. There you go, you can take it,” Jake coaches into your ear as he encourages you to take more of Rooster’s cock. “You’re almost there. Just a little bit more.”

Bradley licks his lips as he watches you writhe and squirm above him until there’s no space between your bodies. His fingertips digging into your hipbones. The stretch of him making you ache in the best of ways, your eyes fluttering at the sensation of sinking impossibly further on him. Both hands braced on his chest, thumbs seeking the little patch of chest hair.

You lean your head back and are met with Jake’s mouth. His kiss filthy as his teeth graze against your full bottom lip and his tongue sweeps against yours.

There are no words for how full you feel, for how good you feel.

Bradley’s face and neck are flushed and his waves are a mess from your handiwork. And you’re struck again by just how handsome he is. You give him a roll of your hips, anticipating a thrust that doesn’t come. Your eyebrows pinch together and you try again to get him to meet you half way. Waiting, waiting, waiting for more.

“I want-”

“I know what you want,” Rooster croons as he cuts you off, sliding a hand up your pulled too taut body to palm at your breast. You whine when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then tugs. “C’mon, want to see you ride me. That’s it, baby, use me to get yourself off.”

The wet, sticky sounds of your own arousal and Jake’s come are amplified in the quiet room as you fuck yourself on Bradley’s cock. The sweat is collecting behind your knees and along your hairline. You let your head lull back onto Jake’s shoulder, knowing he’ll keep you upright.

You want to be good for him. You want to be good for them.

Both men have been determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body and then asked for even more. The burn in your thighs so good as you rock and grind on the man beneath you, but you don’t know how much more you have left to give.

“Doing still alright, darlin’?”

You turn your head enough to mouth along Jake’s jawline and hope he takes it for the yes your tongue is too tired to say.

“Think our girl’s getting worn out,” Bradley says sympathetically, but is looking up at you with pride in his eyes.

“You’ve been doing so well for us. How about you let Rooster and I take care of you now, huh?”

“Please.” It sounds pitiful even in your own ears, but you can’t be bothered to care too much at the moment.

You whimper quietly as Jake’s warm, heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades and presses you back down.

Bradley wraps his arms around you holding you close against his sweat-slicked chest. The tears prickle in the corner of your eyes as you tuck your head back into his neck, knowing that the two men are more than capable to get you there again. That they’ll take care of you.

That you can just feel, that you can just be, that you can just take.

“Hold her open for me, Bradshaw.”

You feel Bradley’s hands slide around you, grabbing rough handfuls of your ass. You’re exposed in a different way you’ve been all night, under Jake’s sharp, keen eyes that you can’t see but feel on you all the same, as the other man pumps in and out of you.

“You should see how she’s dripping down you, Rooster. That cunt is coating you real good.”

“I don’t need to see it, when I can feel it,” he pants against your ear. You want to remind them that it’s not just only your arousal alone that’s making a sure to be shiny mess along the length of him, but it’s all you can do to clutch at Bradley’s waves as he keeps building you up.

Of all the things you were experiencing in that moment, it’s no surprise that you miss the subtle ghosting of Jake’s warm breath over that pleated part of you, but it’s the feeling of his wet tongue skimming around the rim of it that send you reeling.

“Fuck me,” Rooster moans, his arms tightening around you, “Whatever you just did, do it again. She liked it. Didn’t you, baby?” You babble out something unintelligible as you fist his hair, but your vigorous nod can’t be interpreted for anything other than your enthusiastic consent. “Could feel that you did, gotta give our girl what she likes. She deserves it after being so good for us.”

His voice huskier, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. That slight accent that only sometimes made an appearance, finally out in full force.

You let out a strangled cry when Hangman does it again, your toes curling at the new feeling. You’ve never taken two men like that before, but even the idea of it makes you lightheaded.

From there you lose yourself in the dueling sensations. At Bradley’s ruinous, deep thrusts. Of his perfect cock hitting you just right, targeting that spot that has you quaking. Of Hangman’s tricky tongue circling, circling. And his thick finger pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing. Until-

“Ah!”

You bite down on that pretty scar on Rooster’s shoulder, needing something to keep you from feeling like you were going to fly away. From feeling like you could explode into nothingness. It’s a different kind of fullness, one that steals your breath even as it gives you life.

“That’s it, nice and easy, darlin’.”

There’s nothing nice or easy about the two men working you. The push and pull of them so in tune with each other, so set on making you see stars one last time.

“I can feel you’re there. Want you to come on this cock,” Bradley grits out, as he thrusts into you, his hands spreading you wider for his benefit and Jake’s. The tendon on is throat standing out in a way that makes your mouth water. “Come on, come for us.”

When you come with a cry, body shaking and back arching with devastating pleasure. It’s an orgasm that gives as much as it and takes and takes and takes.

Rooster is swift to follow after you with a couple more powerful thrusts, as he spills himself inside of you with a low, satisfied groan. You spasm and quiver and convulse around him, milking him with every tremor that dances through your thoroughly spent body.

When you come to, the first thing you’re aware of is how perfectly warm you are pressed between two hard bodies. The next is the delicious ache between your thighs and the mess there, as you grin to yourself with your eyes closed. Luxuriating in the endorphin rush as it washes over you.

A calloused thumb strokes your cheek.

“There she is,” you hear Jake say.

Someone’s long fingers thread between your own, squeezing your hand.

“Jesus, fuck,” you hear Bradley pant next to you, “How was that even better than last time?”

“More practice?” you offer, finally opening your eyes.

Both men look a sweaty mess, their hair a riot and their cheeks still pink from the exertion. And you know you probably aren’t faring much better, but it’s the warm affection and the easy smiles on their faces that sets your heart a racing again.

It’s been a little over four years since you had first met the two of them in Pensacola during a training contingent for a recon mission.

You were about to call it a night at the Navy bar near the base, mentally cursing whoever signed off on sending you to the state in the middle of a heat wave, when a broad man in a Hawaiian shirt had slid up to you at the bar. It would have been comical on anyone with less muscles, but he also had the smile to pull it off. You didn’t quite know what to make of it at first when the clean-cut blonde, the one with a mega-watt grin and a toothpick gripped between his teeth, had set a drink in front of you with a wink.

There wasn’t any way of missing the tension radiating between them, but you weren’t about to get caught in the middle of their petty pissing contest. You knew a rivalry when you saw one. And they were pilots after all, you knew their type.

It wasn’t until you held that chilled glass up to your overheated neck, catching the way they both tracked that bead of condensation as it traveled down your throat and disappearing between your cleavage, that you thought things could get interesting.

And well, it had escalated quickly from there.

“I haven’t even been here seventy-two hours yet, and I’ve already heard about your fabled hook up twice,” you say with a giggle, leaning your forehead on Jake’s shoulder.

“Mm, I’ve heard that rumor too,” Rooster chuckles.

“Who knew the Navy had so many damn gossips,” Hangman laughs, “I swear to god, they talk more shit than the little old ladies in my grandma’s knitting circle.”

Bradley picks up your entwined hands and brings them to his mouth, kissing your fingertips with a fond look in his eyes, “So how long are you here for?”

“Well, speaking of rumors,” you say conspiratorially, “Have you heard the one about a certain Chief Warrant Officer Bernie Coleman and the opening on his new strategic team for a permanent for a member?” The teasing smirk growing on your face as the realization dawns on them.

You had been treating yourself to a celebratory drink at the finalized paperwork and impending transfer when Rooster had spotted you sitting there earlier when the whole night truly began.

“Huh,” Bradley says with a sly smile, “Now that sure is one interesting rumor. The person who lands that gig must be very smart. Sounds like that certain someone would be the right person to settle a bet. ”

“Mhm and probably very full of good ideas,” you can’t help but preen.

“What do you say, Rooster, best two out of three?” Jake asks, with a cheeky gleam in his eyes, “You up for a little tiebreaker, darlin?”

You look from one to the other with a grin.

“I’m all in.”

In the immortal words of the Spice Girls "spice up your life" 💃🏼 Thanks for reading!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @laracrofted for their help!

This was written as part of @sushiwriterhere Threesomissance 2023 event!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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If he moans while eating you out, he’s a SLUT.

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay [part ½]

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw has a thing for smart girls - and maybe ones who hate his guts on principle. a lie by omission is still a lie after all and bradley never exactly told you what he did for work…

OR you take on the us military industrial complex one hinge date at a time…well sort of

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, and slight dom/sub and praise and rank kink elements), idk basically she’s a bit of a brat? and he likes it? it’s kind of filthy, but it’s supposed to be kind of funny and a little silly?

A/N: thanks to everyone who liked the sneak peek and provided such positive feedback! but i really have to give a shout out to my buddy sol (desertsagecelestial) for being the absolute best sounding board with this fic! definitely check out her wip, it’s amazinggggg. anyway, enjoy! (9.9k) Part 1.5

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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Boiling Point

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x f!reader

Summary: A spur of the moment invitation leads you to underestimate what years worth of sexual tension with Rooster will amount to when placed within the stifling square footage of your humble apartment.

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, oral sex (m!receiving), thigh riding, unprotected p in v, rough sex, praise kink, table sex

Part of you knows that if you gave Rooster an inch, he’d take it. If you softened your hard edges just enough to be pliable beneath his callused hands, ones that you can only imagine would trail across your skin with the same deft precision that he utilizes in the cockpit, he’d take you apart piece-by-piece.

Prompt: The only two people without plans for Christmas might as well spend it together (dedicated to @frankiesbadlanding 💖)

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

“You can’t spend Christmas alone, Bradshaw.”

While you’d certainly meant what you’d said to Rooster days ago as you were trudging across the base—both of you breathing hard and covered in sweat after hours of intensive drills in the air—now that he’s standing here in the middle of your living room with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he observes the collage of artwork spread across your walls, your apartment suddenly feels too goddamn small.

—too small for this.

In the years that you’ve known Bradley, the stifling air that lingers between the two of you has been taut with a simmering tension, spread far too thin to weather much more of the tightrope of uncertainty you’ve both been carefully traipsing across day in and day out. Long before you enrolled in the naval academy, you vowed not to fall into the trap of distractions in the form of tall, handsome pilots with soft eyes and easy smiles—a rule made specifically for men like the one currently trailing his fingertips over the small piano by the window.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is the definition of a goddamn distraction, through and fucking through.

For all that you’ve done to earn the designation of “Specter,” a call sign born from your uncanny ability to get the drop on your teammates with a near ghostly grace, Rooster is the one person that makes you stumble without fail once your feet are firmly planted back on the ground. Sometimes, you don’t think he’s even aware of it, the way he catches you off guard with his barking laugh, the way your nerves are set alight whenever he lowers his sunglasses and offers you a lopsided grin from across the room. The way your steady hands will tremble from a mere brush of his fingers.

It should bother you, really, how easily he gets under your skin.

How effortlessly he draws you into his orbit.

How he unceasingly invades your thoughts.

It’s a testament to every adamantly stubborn bone in your body that the two of you haven’t fucked it out yet.

He’d work his way into each and every crevice of your being with a white-hot intensity that would rival the manner in which he burns across the skies.

Bradley would ruin you for anyone else.

Later, after you’ve eaten dinner and left the dishes to soak in a sea of suds in the sink, the last frayed edges of your paper-thin charade are helpless when Rooster speaks up from where he’s casually leaning against the doorway, eyes tracking your movements across the room.

“Why’d you invite me to spend Christmas with you, Specter?”

You come to a stop beside the kitchen table, fingers briefly drumming across its wooden surface. Too many answers flirt across the tip of your tongue, so you settle on the easiest. “Because I know neither of us have anyone left to celebrate with.”

Pushing off of the wooden frame, he strides toward you, coming to a stop a few feet away. “Is that all?”

Biting your lip, you roll your eyes as you evade the question with one of your own, “Did you really have to wear a Hawaiian shirt on Christmas?”

He glances down at himself as you gesture toward his pink and green top, which he’s predictably left unbuttoned, aviators snugly tucked into the neck of his white t-shirt. Moving closer, he tilts his head to the side. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I think I did.”

Another step.

“Are you sure?”

Another.

“What do you want, Rooster?”

Your backside presses against the lip of the table as he comes to a stop in front of you.

“I want to know why I’m here.”

It’s a fucking loaded question, one that leaves your blood thrumming in your veins as your mind tries to unravel the implication behind it. The unspoken, shared knowledge that you’ve both traversed this liminal space of willful ignorance for far too long.

This invitation wasn’t just about the holiday, and he fucking knows it.

You tell him just that, your response nearly a whisper. “You know why.”

Though you try to focus on a spot over his shoulder, eyes sweeping over the strings of brightly-colored lights strung about in the room beyond, you can’t help but turn your head to meet the weight of his gaze as he replies evenly, “I want to hear you say it.”

Even with the hot caress of his breath dancing across your cheek, you still dig your heels into the tile floor beneath your feet, dizzy as you sway at the precipice of the edge you've always skirted. “Say what, Bradley?”

You swear you can hear the hitch in his breath as his real name leaves your mouth—a rare occurrence.

He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, biting his cheek and tousling his hair. “Say you’re tired of acting like you don’t want this. Because I sure fucking am.”

Your skin prickles with heat, his words dragging down your spine and reverberating in your ears. Without blinking, you let go—

“I am, too."

Rooster goes entirely still for a moment when you finally relent, eyes widening a fraction in something like surprise, and then his mustache twitches at the behest of the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Good,” he murmurs, before leaning in and capturing your lips in a long overdue kiss.

Your body relaxes into Rooster’s solid form as he slots his mouth against yours, and while one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, the other slides down to grasp at your hip, steadying you as your limbs go pliant under his scorching touch.

There’s no uncertainty in the way he holds you, no awkward fumbling of limbs—rather, there’s a deliberate familiarity in the press of each finger against your skin, a whispered reminder of the trust you already share. In the air, there’s a peculiar harmony to be found in the way the two of you fly side-by-side, rhythmically anticipating one another’s moves through the clouds. And here, now, with your feet planted firmly on solid ground, you’ve finally come to realize that this will be no different.

You tilt your head, and his nose nudges your cheek while his tongue flirts with the seam of your mouth, beckoning you to part your lips for him. When you do, Rooster deepens the kiss, pressing his body firmly against yours and splaying a hand across your lower back. You melt into his body heat, a keening sound escaping your heaving chest at the thrill that runs through you when you press into the muscled thigh he’s planted between your legs.

Rooster’s fingers slide lower, grazing your ass, and he breaks the kiss, muttering against your lips, “You like that?”

He adjusts his leg, the denim of his jeans rubbing against the apex of your thighs, and you can’t help but nod, letting your head fall against his shoulder as he uses his grip on your backside to increase the pressure.

“You look so pretty like this,” he observes, kissing your cheek softly as you arch your back, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Keep going.”

And so you do. Pulling him in for a needy kiss, hands tightly grasping the hairs at the back of his head, your teeth clash as you drag your clothed cunt down his leg.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the thumb that’s fluttering across your jawline swipes across your bottom lip.

There’s something innately shameless about riding Rooster’s thigh in the middle of your kitchen, like you always knew it’d come down to this somehow. There’s no time to waste being shy at the feeling of the sticky pool of arousal gathered in your underwear, and when you reach down to hike your dress up, Rooster’s hands swiftly slide up your thighs and bunch up the skirt, his thumbs digging into your hip bones.

“Bradley…” you whine as you chase the sparks of pleasure with each thrust—it’s not enough, and he knows it.

He groans into your mouth as you say his name again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth when your hand trails over the erection straining against the front of his pants. You make quick work of the button and zipper, slipping a hand inside, and he rolls his hips into your touch when you wrap your fingers around his hard, throbbing cock. His lips messily slide off of yours and run across your cheek as you pull his shaft out and begin to stroke it. In turn, one of his hands leaves your hips, tugging aside your soaked underwear to swipe two digits through your slick folds.

“Fuck,” he breathes out when he realizes just how wet you are, the tight walls of your cunt easily giving way when he begins to slide his middle finger into your entrance. He quickly inserts another as his mouth finds its way to your neck, nipping and lapping at the sensitive skin there while he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you.

At the feeling of you eagerly rocking your hips into his hand while tugging at his dick, Rooster chuckles, grazing his teeth over your earlobe. “You want more, Specter?”

“Please.”

“Right here?”

“Yeah, on the table.”

“Tell me how you like it,” he croons, crooking his fingers inside of you as he runs his tongue along the underside of your jaw.

You pluck his sunglasses from where they’re still dangling precariously from the neck of his shirt, dropping them onto the table. “You don’t need to be gentle.”

No sooner than the words have left your lips, he spins you around, and you find yourself bent over the tabletop, your cheek pressed against the cool wooden surface as Rooster’s hands trail over the globes of your ass.

He folds his body over yours for a moment, his cock nestled between your cheeks as his mouth hovers near your face. “I should have known you’d like it rough.”

When stands back up, he nudges your legs further apart and teases your dripping folds with the head of his cock, wiping your arousal along his shaft. He notches himself at your entrance for a moment, and just as you go to take a breath, he plunges inside of you without warning. Both of you moan in unison at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate him as he buries himself inside of you, your cunt both weeping and tingling at the thick intrusion splitting you open.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans as he pulls his cock almost completely out of you, only to slam it back inside, his balls smacking against your ass.

A choked out sob of pleasure leaves your mouth in response as your muscles tighten at the feeling of Rooster’s shaft massaging your inner walls while he begins to set a punishing rhythm pounding into you.

“Harder,” you pant out.

The feet of the table grunt in protest, skidding a few inches backward as he drives his length into your pussy with fervor, recklessly rutting into you at a brutal pace. Your fingers are in the midst of reaching out to grasp for purchase along the smooth surface of the tabletop when you feel both of your arms being tugged behind your back. Rooster wraps a hand over your wrists, pinning your hands against your lower back as he ravages your hole.

Sounds of wet, smacking flesh fill the room, and you squirm in his grip as the growing ache between your thighs begins to spread. Noticing the way your legs have begun to tremble, he leans in, using his free hand to toy with your swollen clit. At the feeling of Rooster’s fingers rubbing circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves, the tight coil of pleasure writhing in your gut explodes, your cunt clenching down on his shaft as your orgasm washes over you.

As you relax slightly, Rooster releases your hands, grasping his cock as he slips it out of your hole. You push off of the table, turning around to find him fisting his length, and you drop to your knees, taking him into your mouth.

You hollow your cheeks as you take him deep into your throat, his length coated in your juices. Rooster’s hand comes up to cup the back of your head, and he groans as you suck his cock, one of your hands planted at the base as the other cups his balls. His imminent climax finds him between one breath and the next, his shaft pulsing on your tongue as you swallow down the hot, thick ropes of cum he spills down your throat.

Breathing hard, you pull your lips off of Rooster's spent cock and plop backward onto the floor, stealing a glance up at him to see that he's already on his way down to meet you on the tiles. And even with the lingering traces of his release still lingering on your swollen, spit-soaked lips, he takes your face into his hands and kisses you hard.

A burning smell begins to fill the kitchen, and you belatedly realize you forgot to set a timer on the oven after tossing in the pie that he'd brought over.

"Shit, the pie—"

Rooster makes a sound of protest as you pull your mouth away from his when you turn to look at the stove.

"Fuck the pie," he mutters, turning your chin back to face him and capturing your lips with his once more.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» BRADLEY BRADSHAW MASTERLIST

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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there's just nothing that beats being at home. the world will try to convince me i should be doing more and it's like yeah but im at home

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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Bradley and Smart Aleck

Lately, Bradley had liked girls with a little more spark, a little more fire, a little more substance.

A little more like you.

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay by @gretagerwigsmuse

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

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Have Your Cake and Eat it T(w)o

Summary: It may be his birthday, but Bradley is determined to make all of your fantasies come true.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Length: 9K

Warnings: fluff, sweet smut, and downright filthy smut. MINORS DNI

[Author's Note: I apologize for nothing. But also, see y'all in a week 😅]

It had been a damn long day of flying.

A heatwave had settled over San Diego and Bradley had been sweating since before he’d even zipped up his flight suit for the day. It was only a couple days into June and the temperature was in the upper nineties, unheard of this time of year for the area.

By the end of their fourth hour of running flight simulations, everyone on the Dagger Squad were all sweat-sodden and miserable. Thankfully, Cyclone had taken pity on them and cut them loose for the day early.

Hot and uncomfortable, all he had been looking forward to all day was a nice long cool shower. One that he was hopeful he could coax you into joining with him.

It had been almost impossible for him to pull himself out of bed that morning. He had woken up to you soft and warm and draped over his chest. The high thread-count white cotton sheet rumpled around low on your waist, still naked from the night before.

Yeah, it had been really fucking hard. Both his cock and the way he had to drag himself out of bed without giving you a proper start to the day.

The blast of cold air that hits him the moment he walks through the front door was second best thing he’s felt all day.

Bradley was just about to call out to you when he hears a moan- a decidedly unfeminine moan.

And then he hears you.

He could pick out that sweet, breathy whine from anywhere. He’d made it a mission from the very first time he’d made you come to learn all the sounds of your pleasure, each new discovery was catalogued and filed away in his brain.

He doesn’t bother toeing off his boots as he makes his way to your shared bedroom.

The door had been left open and he is welcomed to the sight of your diamond ring sparkling brilliantly against your shiny, silken pussy.

You are so engrossed in whatever you are watching that you don’t even notice him as he leans against the doorframe to admire the irresistible picture in front of him.

He’d been missing you since even before he’d locked the front door behind him. The thought of getting you rocking and grinding on top of him was the only thing that had made his day slightly more bearable.

And the vision of you propped up against the tufted linen headboard splayed naked in bed as you circled yourself was even better than he could have hoped for.

His cock was already more than half hard as he took you in. Your rapid breaths, your perfect for him body, your wet fingers.

“Oh, this is a pretty sight.”

Startled, you nearly drop your phone. Knees snapping together from the way they had been butterflied out.

“B-Bradley,” you stuttered out, looking adorably flustered.

“Hi, honey,” he greets you, low and velvety.

The sounds of sex were still coming from the speaker on your phone. Wet slurping, desperate whimpers, and the unmistakable sharp, slapping noise of skin-on-skin.

You started to pull your glistening fingers away from the center of you, “I, um-”

There was nothing more he liked than watching you get yourself off, but he’d clearly caught you off guard. And it was more than obvious to him that you were feeling embarrassed about the way he discovered you.

You’re always beautiful, but he especially loves the way you look when you’re flushed and turned on.

“This is a nice surprise to come home to,” he says soothingly as he comes to sit next to you on the bed, “You look so pretty making yourself feel good.”

You give him a small smile, soft and shy.

“You’re home early, Roo,” you say bashfully before tilting your face up for a kiss.

He makes a hmm of contentment when his lips meet yours. Your mouth parts for him easily as you sigh into him. All the tension he had been feeling from the day melts away as you soften against him. Needing to touch you, he brings his hand up to stroke along the delicate skin of your neck.

A particularly loud cry surprises you both apart and you pull away from his embrace, sheepishly trying to exit out of the video that’s still filling the screen.

His mouth goes dry as he registers the content of that film currently playing on your phone.

There’s a woman flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, stretched out between two large hard bodies. One in front of her and one behind as she takes both of their cocks.

He puts his hand on your wrist, in an attempt to pause your fumbling.

“You don’t have to stop on my account.”

You were avoiding meeting his gaze, and that didn’t work for him. Not in the slightest.

“I…oh-”

Your eyes fly to his and whatever you were going to say dissolves into reedy whimper as he takes your shiny fingers and pulls them deep into his mouth, while he holds your stunned gaze.

He had your attention now.

Savoring the taste of you, he runs his tongue over, under, between your fingers and then along the band of your engagement ring.

“Keep touching yourself,” he says, giving your fingers one more obscene lick.

It’s a request. It’s a command.

The noise you make gets caught in your throat as you nod at him before bringing you spit-slicked fingers back to the center of you, gasping softly as you make contact with your clit.

It’s takes a herculean effort for him to keep his hands to himself as he watches you tease yourself with featherlight touch.

He knows that you’d readily welcome his hands on that sensitive part of you, but you were pursuing your own pleasure and he wanted you to get off exactly how you needed to. Just because he wasn’t the one touching you didn’t mean he going to make you do all the work, he knew all the spots on your body that would make you quiver and quake.

And he was a team player, after all.

Bradley runs his mustache along your skin as he trails open-mouth kisses up the column of your neck. You shiver at the contact as you lean your head away to give him more access to taste you. He can smell your body wash from the shower you must have taken earlier in the day, its scent still lingering on you.

He teases you with his lips and his tongue as he watches the video with you from out of the corner of his eye as you continue to touch yourself for him, now with more intensity.

“Mm, that’s hot,” he rasps.

Your little noises paired with the ones coming from your phone make his blood thrum in his veins.

“Yeah?” you ask breathily, your hips shifting against your fingers as you seek more friction.

“Hell yeah,” he says, grazing his teeth against you. “Is this something you think about? Do you like the idea of taking two cocks?”

Your eyebrows pinch together overwhelmed as you work to try to cobble together an answer for him.

“Yes? I… Maybe? I-I don’t know. It’s just… Bradley, Bradley, this is so hot. Oh my god,” you release a needy whine, still circling your clit. “I haven’t really thought about it, you know, n-not really. Don’t need to because I have you, but I oh fuck-”

The high-pitched, breathy keen you release cuts off your self-conscious rambling as the video segues into a close-up of one of the men feeding his cock to the eager, rosy-faced woman, still glossy and slick from being inside of her, as the other man takes his place and thrusts inside of her with ease.

“It is, honey, it’s really damn hot.” he agrees with his eyes glued to you. You are mesmerizing. “C’mon, why don’t you give yourself something to fill that pussy? I want you to feel good.”

He knew just how wet you were, how much this was turning you on. He had seen it earlier and he could hear it now. His gaze bounces between synchronized bodies on the screen and the movement of your hand as you slide two of your fingers inside of you.

The sight is enough to nearly make him come in his flight suit.

“Have you come at all yet?” he asks, dropping a few heated kisses along the curve of your jaw.

“No,” you pant, your breaths quick and shallow. “Was close earlier.”

He hums contemplatively as he traces his nose along your cheekbone.

“That was rude of me to interrupt when you were doing such a good job taking care of yourself, wasn’t it?” he murmurs rough and low against your temple. “Let me make it up to you.”

Rooster opens up drawer of the nightstand next to him and pulls out the remote for the tv, turning it on. Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion when he takes your phone from your hand rewinding the video before casting it to the flat screen mounted on the wall.

He takes advantage of the way you open your questioning mouth to dip his head down and sweeps his tongue against yours for a deep, filthy kiss. All while the grunts and whimpers from your video fill the bedroom, now from the high-quality soundbar instead of your phone.

Reaching into the drawer once more, he moved to stand up and then sets your favorite vibrator next to you.

“Have fun, pretty girl,” he tells you with a wicked grin and a wink as he struts to the bathroom. Feeling very pleased with himself when he hears the quiet buzzing and the at the needy little noises you’re making before he closes the door.

The second he shuts the door he feels all his composure slip away has he rakes his hands through his hair. He had been trying to play it cool, but it had taken every ounce of his willpower to not beg to fuck you the way he had been dying to from the moment he had seen your diamond flashing at him against your silky wetness.

He works quick to get his flight suit off and releases a sigh of relief when he is able to get a hand on his hard cock. He had been sweating from the heat but now you had him sweating for a completely different reason.

Once in the shower he lathers himself in your luxurious yet overpriced eucalyptus scented body wash and slowly jerks himself off with a supportive forearm propped up against the cool, tiled wall. It doesn’t take him long to come at all.

So he washes off his body, shampoos his hair, and then works himself up all over again.

All while he thinks about the way you looked and all you perfect sounds he can’t hear over the water, but ones that knows by heart.

It’s been a few weeks since Bradley walked in on you, and he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself or to get nearly enough of your body.

He’s always had a high sex drive, a byproduct of years spent training and honing his body, but he craved you all the time. All it took was a look or a whiff of your body wash or the sound of your laugh, and he could be ready for you in a moment.

The first thing he registered most mornings was the smell of your shampoo from the way his nose is usually buried in your hair. The second thing is how perfect your body felt pressed against him, already hard and willing.

And nothing lulled him to sleep faster than feeling your heartbeat as it settled into a slow, steady rhythm after having set your pulse racing by getting you desperately writhing against him.

He always thought he had good self-control, that is, until he met you and you proved him otherwise.

On the morning of his thirty-sixth birthday, he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day than getting his mouth on you.

Seeing your sleepy, satisfied smile pillowed in bed before he left for work did more for him than coffee ever could.

You had sent him on his way with a See you later, birthday boy and a saucy little wiggle of your fingers before burrowing further underneath the sheets for a few more blissful minutes in bed.

There had been a traveler of a smooth dark roast and a box of pastries left in the Ready Room with a from Mav inked across the top in his all caps scrawl. Rooster’s cheek had ticked up he noted that the box was filled with all of his favorites as he reached in and grabbed a bear claw.

The team was quick to demolish the treats, free food never went to waste in a room full of naval aviators with a high metabolism.

He had had a great day of flying. And to top it off he had pulled tone on Hangman not once, but twice. The push-up penalty was something they had kept up with from their time getting prepared for the Uranium Mission, and seeing Seresin sweat it out on the hot tarmac was just an added bonus to an already great day.

And things were only looking up because he knew you would be waiting for him at home.

He was in a great mood as he headed out to the Bronco, whistling to himself and thinking about the night he had planned for the two of you.

The keys he had been swirling around his index finger nearly dropped to the ground when Phoenix called out a sing-songy “See you later tonight, Rooster!”

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “Wait, what?”

He knew that the gleam in her sharp eyes meant she was up to no good.

“For your birthday, bird boy. We know you hate surprises, so we’re throwing you an unsurprise party. Figured a couple hour heads up would get you in the spirit,” she said with a sly smile. “Mav told me he even convinced Cyclone to have a team building day tomorrow, so I imagine everyone will be extra celebratory in your honor.”

Bradley wasn’t mad at the idea of a government sponsored beach day, but going to the Hard Deck was not on his carefully curated agenda for tonight.

“I can’t tonight. I’m pretty sure my fiancée made some plans for us tonight, sorry Nat.” He hoped the flimsy excuse didn’t sound like the complete bullshit it was. “Maybe we could grab some beers tomorrow?”

You had asked him more than a few times if he had wanted to do anything, and he kept hedging the question finding different unique and usually sweaty ways to distract you.

There was only one thing he wanted for his birthday. And it was you.

The thought that his friends might plan something on their own never even crossed his mind.

Well, shit.

“Oh no, she knows. Who do you think helped plan it?” she gloats, wagging her phone at him. Clearly reveling in his surprise and dismay. “See you later tonight!”

He didn’t dare challenge her further, not with that pointed look in her eye. Bradley already put his life in danger enough as it was, he was not going to get on Natasha Trace’s bad side.

But that didn’t stop him from dropping his head down on his steering wheel and groaning the second he was alone in his car.

He had been toying with an idea for a few weeks now. It was also probably the reason he felt so insatiable when it came to you lately, why he needed you coming against his mouth or around his fingers or on his cock any chance he could get.

And once it had crystallized, it was something he couldn’t get out of his head. It made is pulse pound erratically just to think about it.

It may be his birthday, but he had a gift in mind he wanted to give you instead.

His mouth starts watering the second he opens the door to the cozy craftsman the two of you had purchased together earlier in the year as the scent of vanilla wafts from the kitchen.

The sound of your pretty voice carries through to the front of the house as you sing along to one of the various playlists you have for whatever mood you’re in. It makes him smile as he listens to you for a moment before he closes the door, toes off his boots, and makes his way to you.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

“Jesus, Rooster!” You spin around with a hand on your heart, wearing the Whisky Business that Mav had gotten you for your birthday, probably picked out with Penny’s help. Your face softens for a moment, as you give him that smile you always do when he comes home, before your eyebrows shoot up. “Wait! Close your eyes!”

You’re adorably flustered in the way you’re trying to use your body to block his eyes from the cake you’ve been working on.

He huffs an amused laugh, but does as you ask. Even goes the extra mile to bring his hands up to cover them, “There, happy?”

“Very,” you say indulgently. “You’re lucky I hadn’t started piping yet before you tried to send me to an early grave. Hate to break it to you, baby, but you’re not on my life insurance policy yet. If you were trying to score an early pay out before I even get your last name, you’ll have to think again.”

Bradley could not wait to marry you. He’d take you to the courthouse right this second if he thought that’s what you wanted. But he didn’t mind a few more months of waiting when he had forever to look forward to with you.

He can hear the crinkle of the plastic piping bag as you work, “And what if I’m just trying to score? You know, generally speaking.”

You boo at him congenially before laughing at his bad pun, a grin taking over his face at the sound.

Yeah, he was really fucking excited to make you his wife.

“Ok, I’m done now,” you say after a few minutes, “You can open your eyes now.”

You look entirely too pleased with yourself, there’s a playful smile on your face and you’ve got a mischievous glint in your eyes.

The glass cake stand behind you is covered with a kitchen towel, so he can’t even get a peek of at the creation through the glass dome even if he wanted to.

That’s fine, he could be patient. For the cake, at least.

You were a different story entirely.

He strides towards you and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you to in for a kiss. He can’t hold back his low moan at the taste of you. Your mouth is sweet and fruity, undoubtedly from sampling the frosting you had made.

“Mm, strawberry?” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Your favorite.”

Technically, his second. The taste of you would always be his favorite flavor, but he couldn’t wait to try that cake after he was done with you.

You pull away to grab the piping bag from the white marble counter, squeezing some of the smooth, tangy frosting onto your finger. You’re about to offer it to him when your phone pings next to you. You cheekily pop that finger in your mouth instead as you read the text, and fuck, if it doesn’t turn him on.

“It’s Nat,” you tell him, “She just wanted to confirm what time I was planning on delivering you to your unsurprise party.” Your thumbs fly over the screen as you type out your response before putting your phone back down and give him a very self-satisfied grin.

Fuck.

He had spent his commute home trying to think of a plausible excuse for getting out of the impromptu-to-him party. Fucking all rational thought out of his fiancée probably wouldn’t fly. Nor would a convenient bout of food poisoning, since he’d eaten with the rest of the team today. And Mad Cow seemed too far-fetched.

“Do we have to?” he asks weak and resigned, pinning your hand on his chest when you playfully swat at him.

He tries not to sulk, knowing he has to wait even longer to have you in the way he has been dreaming about, but the way your mouth quirks up amused tells him all he needs to know the success of that endeavor.

“Your friends want to celebrate you. I want to celebrate you, too,” you tell him, running a hand down his abs.

He knows he’s being dramatic, but right now he doesn’t care. Not when he can still taste you in his mouth.

“But I see them all day, every day,” he grumbles. He crowds you into the counter, pressing himself against your soft stomach, letting you feel how worked up he already was. “And I haven’t seen nearly enough of you today.”

“As if you didn’t have your way with me this morning,” you tease, sliding your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into the top of his ass. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You love being the center of attention.”

“I’d rather be in the center of yo-”

Your hand flies to his mouth, cutting him off.

“I swear to god, Bradley, if you finish that sentence I’ll give your entire cake to Hangman.” There’s no heat in the threat. The affection in your eyes evident, even as you exasperatedly shake your head at him.

He jokingly puts his hands up in surrender.

“Now that that’s settled,” you say with finality, “Go shower and get ready. I love you, but you smell like jet fuel and sweat.” You scrunch your nose at him before you press a kiss to his cheek and then lightly push him towards the bedroom.

Just not in the way he had been looking forward to.

Rooster had gotten himself off in the shower and even that hadn’t done anything to ease the tension that was steadily building inside of him.

He was having a good time, a great time even.

He was surrounded by all of his favorite people, the family he gained since getting called back to Top Gun. San Diego was home now and he had more than he ever hoped to get in this life.

The Hard Deck had been filled to the brim with strands of colorful streamers and clusters of balloons. A big banner had been strung up over the bar that read Happy Birthday Rooster. A large table was set up in the corner and was piled high with boxes of pizza, chips and dips, platters of poppers and roll ups, and other shareables snacks.

There was even a custom game of Pin the Jake on the Jackass taped up on the wall. He learned later that the idea had been Hangman’s contribution to the party, only after Seresin had boasted about his precision aim when he claimed his free beer for winning the game.

The sight had stopped him short and made his chest tighten when he had walked in and seen how much work had gone into decorating the bar for his unsurprise party.

You must have sensed his emotions because you had given his hand a light squeeze before pulling him further into the space.

Mav had been the first to greet him with a hug and a “You’re getting old, kid.” A moment passing between them.

Both of them knew exactly how long it had been since they’d celebrated a birthday together, and to be in this place again with the man who helped raise him meant everything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he jokingly grunted, giving him a light shove before clearing his throat, “You’ve still got a few years on me, old man.”

Mav squeezed his shoulder before stepping aside to let Penny cut in. She had been quick to wrap him up, telling him that drinks were on the house that night. And before she pulled away, she whispered conspiratorially into his ear that Mav dragged her to no less than six party supply stores trying to find just the right décor for the night.

From there it’s a flurry of faces and hardy handshakes and beers getting pressed into his hand.

Nat had curated the playlist with all of his favorite songs, Bob had made his mom’s buffalo chicken dip, and Hangman had promised to lay off the bird puns for the next twenty-four hours as a gift. And god knows, he’d take what he could get. It was perfect.

Then there was you.

You were wearing his favorite dress, he didn’t know if it was to tease him or to please him. Knowing you, it was probably both.

And it’s working because he can’t take his eyes off of you.

When he’d seen you coming out of the bedroom wearing it, it had nearly done him in.

“Honey, I’m begging. Let’s stay home. Do I gotta get on my knees?”

“Maybe tomorrow night,” you’d trilled leaning up to kiss him. Then you were gliding past him to the front door with an exaggerated sway of your hips. You left him no choice but to follow when you moved your body like that.

No one has ever driven him as crazy as you. Once you had figured that out, he never stood a chance. You knew exactly how to play him.

The only problem was no one left him alone long enough for him to tell you just how pretty you looked tonight.

Every time he thought he was going to get to have a moment with you, someone comes by to wish him happy birthday or to get him a shot or to pull him away for a game of pool.

Bradley had switched to water an hour ago. He had a vision for how this day was going to end, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get the chance to fuel some fantasies.

He loved Penny and Mav and Nat and Bob and everyone else. Even Jake. And he was having a good time, he wasn’t too proud to admit he was an attention whore and had been soaking it up. But he was desperate for you.

You were chatting with Mav and Penny over near the jukebox while he stared at you from across the room.

The bar was less busy than it had been earlier, but things were still very much in full swing. Probably due to Cyclone’s generous team building day that was planned for tomorrow, everyone was getting loose and loud.

“Rooster, man, the way you have been undressing your fiancée with your eyes is bordering on indecent,” Hangman drawls, sliding up next to him. “You’re making Bob blush. Now why don’t you grab your girl and get out of here, so that we can finally put on some good music.”

His cheek twitches as he bites back the smile, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He lightly shoves the smirking aviator, before patting his shoulder as he moves to make his way towards you.

You lean into him as he saddles up to you.

“Hi, Roo,” you greet him sweetly, “You having a good time?”

“I’ve had the best time, honey. But it’s been a long day, think I’m ready to head home now.” He’s grateful you have your back to the wall so he can let his hand drift from where it had been resting on your lower back, down to your ass.

He turns to the older couple and thanks them for everything. He feels a faint blush crawling up his cheeks at the knowing smile that Penny’s directing at him. Bradley watches as you hug them goodbye. When it’s his turn, Mav pulls him in tight, “Love you, kid, happy birthday.”

And with your hand in his he pulls you out the door, the sound of the music drown out by the blood rushing in his ears as he thinks about what’s to come.

finallyfinallyfinally

He pushes you against the door the second you get home and pins your hands above your head as he claims your mouth. Bradley takes advantage of your surprised gasp and slips his tongue in your mouth. Groaning when your hips rock against him in response.

This.

This is what he’d been wanting all day.

He wanted to be sharing your air, he wanted your needy noises, he wanted your legs shaking and quaking for him.

Still holding your wrists in one large hand, he drops the other to the short hem of your dress, and drags his fingers slowly up along the inside of your thigh.

“Wait, Roo, what about your cake?” The question is all ragged breath and teasing tone. He’s got his face buried in your neck, but he can sense the playful smile you’re wearing.

“Been craving somethin’ a bit sweeter.” He licks a long line up the side of your throat, “Nothing tastes as good as you, honey.”

“These puns,” you make a sound that lands somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as you drop you head back against the door. “You’ve been spending too much time around Jake.”

“Take that back,” he growls, nipping at your collarbone.

“Make me.”

A challenge. A request.

He grabs a rough handful of your ass before he hauls you up against him. Your legs wrapping around his waist immediately as you bring that hot mouth of yours to suck at the skin of his neck as he walks the two of you to the bedroom.

Bradley sits down on the edge of the bed with you straddling his lap, his hands are up your skirt and he’s gripping you so tight that he wouldn’t be surprised if he finds the contours of his fingerprints still on you tomorrow. You moan into his mouth and grind yourself against him as he strains against the zipper of his jeans.

He is so fucking hard for you.

Your breasts are so close to his mouth in this position and he is dying to get his mouth on you. He grunts out something unintelligible as he tries to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders. And to his dismay, you pull away and move to stand up.

The blow of losing the feeling of you in his arms and pressed close against his body is lessened when your hands go to that floaty little hem of your dress as slowly pull it up and over your head.

And he swears to god in that moment his heart stops beating.

You are a vision. It’s almost painful how truly stunning you are right now standing in front of him.

His eyes don’t stay in one spot for long. They can’t. Not when there’s so much to look at. His brain only able to process small bits and pieces at a time.

Sheer. Skin. Lace. Skin. Red. Skin. Straps. Skin.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Are you kidding me?” he groans, raking his hands through his hair, trying to get a grip on himself. “You’ve had that on the whole time? Holy fucking shit, honey.”

Red. Red. Red.

You are feast for his hungry eyes. You are the rain to his drought.

Lace. Lace. Lace.

You are his everything.

Skin. Skin. Skin.

Bradley is off the bed in a flash and pulling you back into his arms for a filthy kiss. There’s nothing polite about the way his tongue invades your mouth. There’s nothing nice about the way his teeth graze your lower lip.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” he says as he grinds himself against you. “You’ve got me turned inside out. All day I’ve been counting down the hours until I could have you like this.”

He claims your mouth again, absorbing all your little sounds.

His hands coast over your body, his fingers tracing over the stitching of the thing that’s too skimpy to even be considered a bodysuit. The angular lines of the straps that crossed your body contrasted with the curves of your body and the panels of delicate lace of the lingerie that adorned you. The juxtaposition of it all was dizzying.

“I’ve been so good, kept my hands to myself during the party, didn’t throw you over my shoulder and leave with you after the second hour like I imagined doing,” he rumbles into your ear. “But I need you to know, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you touching yourself to that threesome video. All I can hear is the wet noises you made as your fingers worked yourself and your whimpers when you liked the way those men were fucking her.”

You suck in a sharp inhale.

He grins against your neck, when you make that exact sound that’s been haunting him for weeks, “God, that sound. I wanna give you everything you want, honey, everything you need. But the idea of sharing you with anyone else, I just- I’m all yours. And the idea of letting someone hear your needy sounds or-fuck- someone seeing your pretty face when you come, it makes me feel out of control.”

“Bradley, I only want you. I promise, just you.” You’ve got the fabric of his shirt clenched in your fists.

“Hey, hey, I know that,” he says soothingly, taking your face in his hands, “You’re wearing my ring, you’re all I want too, honey.”

Your eyes flutter at the admission and you say his name with a sigh.

“I’m so fucking desperate for you all the damn time. And if you’re willing to try something with me, I think I know how to give you-”

You cut him off, nodding rapidly, “Yes, Bradley, yes.”

He releases a little laugh at your enthusiasm, stroking your cheek with this thumb, “I haven’t even told you what I’m thinking yet.”

“With you, it’s always yes. Easily. Every time.”

His heart stumbles over the sheer amount of trust you are giving him. That he’s earned this gift from you, that you hand it over to him so unequivocally.

He wants to get down on his knees and propose to you all over again. He loves you so much, he doesn’t know how he lived his life until you waltz in and rocked his world.

Bradley pulls your face to his and shows you how much you mean to him with his mouth.

The kiss is all unreserved passion and heat, it’s deep and wet and thorough. Your lips on his, moving against him, taking what you want, giving what you want. It’s all he needs. And he loses himself in the feeling of being this close to you, getting to have you this way.

You are a flurry of hands as you work to pull his shirt off. Your fingers and lips skimming along the newly exposed skin of his body. He stops you with a hand on your wrist when you grasp him through his jeans.

“This is about you, I want to give you everything,” he tells you, voice rough with want. “If we start and you’re not into it, we stop. If you change your mind during, you let me know and we stop. And then I will happily make your legs shake in whatever way you want me to.”

You nod at him, your breathing coming out in quick pants.

“Nuh-uh, need to hear you say it. Is this something you want?”

“Yes, Bradley. I want to try this with you, whatever it is. I want it and I want it with you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“And if you change your mind at any point?” he prompts.

“I’ll tell you.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs lowly as he holds your gaze, “Now go get my cock.”

Your eyes widen in a way that he would find amusing under any other circumstance, but right now, his resolve is being pulled taut.

He gives your waist a reassuring squeeze before he jerks his chin towards the bathroom. You pull him in for a quick, heated kiss before turning to go do as he asked, giving him a view of the barely there string of the thong that disappeared between the cheeks of your perfect ass.

He is quick to unbuckle his belt and shuck off his jeans, sighing in relief as he palms himself through his briefs.

The kit had been a gag gift that one of you had somehow ended up with after a very drunken and chaotic white elephant exchange with the Dagger Squad over Christmas Eve.

It had been comical at first when you’d gotten home and set the box on the counter, still tipsy off Coyote’s mother’s recipe for hot buttered rum, both of you a little giggly and a little curious.

It was less funny when you’d whispered in his ear for him to read the instructions before you’d dropped down to your knees in front of him in the kitchen, he’d had to read them twice before the letters on the page formed coherent words.

And then it was downright humorless when twenty-four hours later you fucked yourself on it. His knuckles white as he gripped the armrests of the chair he sat in as he watched you take and take and take.

You’d told him afterwards that you liked the real thing better, so it was something that you saved for when he was away for training or deployments when you were needy and missing him. Plus, the two of you had other things you liked to use in the bedroom.

He’s been teetering on the edge for weeks, the mental image of you taking both of his cocks has been driving him to near madness. And now you’re in front of him wearing that holding the opaque replica of his cock in your hands.

Rooster feels the last threads of his self-control fray and snap, “Get on the bed for me.”

It almost feels like a fever dream the way you crawl onto the bed. As you settle yourself in the middle leaning back on one arm, your breasts pushed out enticingly, and your legs propped open wide and welcoming for his greedy eyes, “This work for you, birthday boy?”

You make a squeak as he grabs your ankle and pulls you down so that you’re sprawled flat on the bed. He runs his hands up your thighs slowly, watching as the goosebumps trail in his wake. And then he roughly flips you over, sliding a couple of his fingers under the thin string nestled against the center of you, and pulls it over the globe of your ass.

You’re already glistening for him.

“Yeah, honey, this works for me.”

With the gusset of your indecent lingerie out of his way, he flips you onto your back once again. He takes a half-step back to kick off his briefs before coming to stand between your open legs. Rooster doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life as he towers over you.

You’re all soft skin and red lace and kiss swollen lips and pupils blown wide with want.

He crooks a finger for you to hand over his cock. He likes the flush that is working it was across your cheeks as you pass it to him.

You’ve spent more time with this than he has, so he takes a moment examining it. The feel of it in his hand more familiar than he expected it to be. He’s not too proud to say it’s a good-looking cock, so he does. And then enjoys the way you dreamily nod in agreement, entirely enthralled with his hand is wrapped around it.

He holds your gaze as he brings it up to his mouth and spits on the head.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, wide-eyed and rubbing your thighs together.

He smirks as he works the silicone cock like he would his own. Running his thumb under the wide, flared head. Treating with a turn of his wrist before stroking back down.

“Gotta warm it up for you,” he murmurs, whisky smooth.

Up. Twist. Down. Squeeze.

“Oh my god, Bradley. Fuck. Fuck me.”

Up. Twist. Down. Squeeze.

“I promise my cocks will treat you real nice, honey.”

“Only want yours.”

He brushes back some of the hair from your face as looks down at you. “If it’s too much, you’ll tell me. You’re the one in control here, got it?”

Your enthusiastic nod, fills him with something dark and smoky.

The diamond on your ring finger catches the light as you reach out for him and he climbs on the bed next to you, kneeling close to your head. You scoot yourself closer to him, turning your face towards him to press a few sweet kisses to his straining thighs before you take him in your hand.

He releases a soft groan when you start to mouth at his cock. Teasing him with little kitten licks, tracing the veins long his shaft. And then you’re sucking on his head, tongue flicking out over the slit. He drops his head back reveling in the sensation of your wet, hot mouth on him. As you give him exactly what you want to give him.

And then you’re taking him deep and moaning around him.

“Christ, that mouth. Keep doing that.”

You’re looking up at him with such need in your eyes, your fingers are digging into his hip as you squirm on the bed trying to seek some relief of your own.

“I got you, honey, I got you. I’ll give you what you need.” He leans over and lines up his twin cock with the center of you, watching as you give around the opaque silicone, “Gonna give you both my cocks.”

You pull off him and whimper his name, still working him with a hand as you press your forehead into his thigh overwhelmed by the stretch. He firmly pushes it all the way inside of you holding it there for moment as you gasp against him, breathing hard.

“Oh, I-” You gasp as he pulls it out completely, tapping the thick head again your clit before filling you back up again to the hilt.

He can’t look away from the way you roll your hips against his hand.

“Look at you, honey, already so wrecked and you only have one of my cocks in you.”

He can tell it’s a struggle for you to lift your head and look at him, never one to shy away from a challenge, and then it’s his turn to whine as you hold his gaze and take him back in your mouth.

You reach a hand up and run it up along his abs. His stomach tenses as you tease your fingers along him.

Rooster doesn’t know what he finds hotter the way your pillowy lips are wrapped around him or the way your wet pussy is clinging to his likeness as he pumps it in and out of you. Your cunt leaking around it, now slick and shiny with the evidence of how turned on you were.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can you feel how it’s just slipping in and out of you? God, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

You moan your agreement.

It takes a bit of maneuvering for him to get the angle just right, with the slight give of the silicone, but he knows the moment it hits that spot inside of you from the wanton sound the claws its way out of you.

“No, no. You gotta keep those legs open for me so I can fuck you there too. Come on, take what you want.” He groans his satisfaction was you start to rock and rutt yourself against him, as you chase your high.

He reaches down and threads his fingers in your hair, gently guiding your pace, as you sucked and licked and drooled around him. You knew how much he liked it messy and you were treating him so well. You hollowed out your cheeks as you took him deep, gagging on him.

“I know they’re big,” he croons, “You don’t have anything to prove, honey. It’s the position, isn’t it?” You nod feebly, looking up at him with your big eyes. “Don’t worry, I know how good you are at taking me. You’re doing so good. Always make me feel so damn good. Such a sweet mouth.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the praise.

He collects the tears that are accumulating in the corner of your eye with the hand that’s not currently occupied by fucking you.

“You feeling good, pretty girl?”

“Feel so full, Roo.” Your body is covered with a sheen of sweat, he wants to lick it from where it’s collecting the hollow of your neck.

“Yeah?” he grunts, “Tell me how much you like this.”

“So much, so much. It’s so fucking good, oh my god.” You suck him back into your mouth, sliding you hand up the back of his thigh to grip his ass.

“Such a good girl telling me what you like and taking what you want.”

The two of you fall into a rhythm, you work his cock while he works you with its twin. He can hear how wet you are even over your needy sounds and his ragged breathing. Your body is writhing beneath him in pleasure.

He knows you’re close from the way you are whimpering. He leans over to get his fingers on your clit with his other hand. The change of angle forcing you to take him deeper down your throat.

“Want you to come on my cock, can you do that for me?”

Instead of answering him, you just bob your head up and down quicker along his length.

Your body is tight with tension as you moan around him. He can feel his pulse pounding as he works you with quick, short strokes until you’re crying out and trembling beneath him.

He pulls his wet, warm cock from your mouth as he continues to pump you full of himself as he draws out your orgasm, wanting to hear every sinful sound that comes out of your pretty mouth unobstructed. Stopping when he sees the signs of your sensitivity.

Bradley pulls the imitation of him from your spent body and sets it to the side, then he gathers you in his arms to hold you as you come down.

He tenderly brushes off some of the sweaty strands away from your face. Your eyes are slightly glazed over, but you’re wearing the softest smile for him.

With his thumb he glides over your full bottom lip, shiny with spit and his precum. He wipes it way affectionately before slipping it into his mouth, savoring the taste of both of you combined on his tongue.

You surprise him when you surge forward for a kiss, your arm wrapping around his neck to pull him on top of you. You’re loose-limbed and pliant underneath him. He loves feeling the contrast of your softness and the lace you’re wearing against his skin.

“How are you feeling? Do you need a break or do you want to stop?”

“I’m so, so good. I-I really like this, Bradley, I don’t want to stop. At least, not yet.” He slides a hand along your jaw, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. You sigh into his parted mouth, “It’s your birthday, but why do I feel like I am the one getting the getting the special treatment?”

“Oh honey, if only you knew how many hours I lost thinking about you like this,” he says dragging his mustache down your neck, letting his tongue dip out to taste the sweat on your skin like he had been dying to earlier. You shiver at the sensation. “I’m definitely enjoying this too. Thank you for trusting me and letting me give you this.”

You trail a finger down the bridge of his nose and lean in for another kiss.

“Well now I know why you’ve been so keyed up. Not that I’m complaining, but you’ve been relentless lately,” you say teasingly as you trace a finger low on his stomach.

He is reminded just how hard he still is, now that he knows you’re doing ok. Or in this case, more than ok. He can see the desire still in your eyes as you gaze at him.

He huffs and amused laugh. “Didn’t hear you complainin’, pretty thing. In fact, you sounded pretty damn greedy to me.” He drops his mouth to your ear, “‘More, Bradley’, ‘Harder, Bradley’, ‘Another one, Bradley’. Any of that ring a bell, honey?”

“Now that doesn’t sound like me.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Nope.”

“I must have fucked you really good if you can’t remember that,” he taunts proudly. “Huh, maybe you should try out a few for me. Just to see if it’ll jog your memory.”

You give him cheeky grin.

“More, Bradley.” You place kiss after kiss along his jaw. “Harder, Bradley.” That tricky hand of yours moves lower and lower until you have him in your palm. You grip him just right and work him with a pressure you know he likes, your movement eased by the wetness your mouth left behind. “Another one, Bradley,” you whisper, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

“Tell me what you want,” he groans as you rub yourself against him, the gusset of that wicked red lace number damp with your need. “Still gotta make those legs shake.”

“Want your cocks again, Roo.”

There’s a desperate edge to the desire he has for you now that he knows just how much you like taking both of him at once.

You make a noise of displeasure has he pulls himself from your body and gets off the bed. He leans down and hooks is arms under your thighs, then roughly pulls you down to the edge. Your legs lock around his waist as you try to rock against him, he sets a hand on your hipbone and presses down, stopping your movements.

“You want these cocks, huh?” He grinds himself against you, smirking at the way you whine. “Go ahead, show me how much you want them. If you want both, you’ve got earn ‘em.”

The muscles of his stomach tense as you reach over and pick up the copy of him, still shiny from your cunt. And a feral groan rips from him when your left hand grasps the base, stroking it the same way you had just stroked him.

You look up at him with your big, innocent eyes as you stick your tongue out and lave at the head of the opaque cock.

“Do you like the way you taste on my cock?” You give him a filthy grin as you let out a satisfied mm-hmm. “Dirty girl,” he murmurs, coarse and proud.

He reaches down and pulls the poor excuse for a thong back again from where it’s slipped back into place, exposing your pussy to his eyes. Wet and swollen and perfect and his.

They way you’re licking the cock in your hands is driving him wild.

“Stop teasing, I know how deep you can take me. C’mon, I wanna see it.”

Your eyes flutter at the demand, your lips stretching around the width of him. Your thumb strokes up and down along the life-like vein, and he swears he can almost feel the gentle touch of it on his own cock.

He thumbs at your clit, watching intensely as you savor your own taste and take him. He gives you just enough pressure to make your hips chase after the feeling for more.

“Now who’s the tease?” you whine petulantly, still seeking more of his touch. “I’ve earned it. Give me both.”

And as if to prove a point you take him in your mouth all the way to the hilt.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Yeah, I think you’ve earned it too,” he readily agrees, speeding up the circles he is making on you. “Would you like it if I prepared you like I prepared that cock?”

Your mouth drops open at the suggestion. It’s not something the two of you have done before, but you seemed to like it when he did it earlier.

“Yes, yes,” you breathe.

He applies more pressure to that sensitive part of you, “But you’re already so wet, honey, do you think you need it?” His grin is sharp as you squirm against him.

“Bradley, please.” It’s a whimpered plea.

With his thumb and forefinger, he opens you up further and releases a slow, steady drop of saliva onto your waiting cunt. You gasp as it connects with you, as you clench against nothing. He feels himself twitch at the sight.

You both moan when he thrusts into you. How he’s held off for so long, he has no clue. Your body is his sanctuary. Nothing else on this earth compares to the way you feel as you accept and welcome him into you.

“You just took me and you’re still so tight for me. Jesus,” he grunts as his hips snap against yours. “You’re so damn beautiful. Wish you could see how good you take my cocks.”

You preen under his filthy compliments and appreciative gaze. Making a show of taking his twin back in your greedy mouth, as your free hand works to pull out your breasts out of the lace cups for him.

For as much as he is giving you, you are giving it to him right back. You are the best thing that has ever happened to him.

His blood feels hot in his veins as he thrusts into you, deep and hard. You are warm and wet and perfect.

Any and all self-control has been long stripped away, and it’s all he can do to focus on your desperate keens and whimpers.

“I know, I know it’s good. You can be loud, let me hear how much you like it.” With his permission you pull off of him, the silicone still loosely gripped in your hand as your arm flops down to your side.

“You feel so good, Bradley. I wanted this, wanted you so bad.”

Bradley is so gone for you. You ruined him for anyone else the moment he met you. You make him feel whole and reckless and wild and safe. He was going to give you everything. You’re his.

“Who does this mouth and cunt belong to?”

“‘s yours.” You’re breathing hard now.

“Sure is,” he rasps, “and who do these cocks belong to?”

“Mine, they’re mine.”

“Damn right, honey. All yours. Fuck me, look at you. Treating your cocks so well. Fucking perfect mouth, fucking perfect cunt.”

He says you name and waits until you look at him through your watery lashes. And then his says it again, this time adding on his last name.

You flutter around him as your body erupts in goosebumps.

“Oh you liked that, huh?” The blistering primal satisfaction that fills his chest only ratchets up his need for you, “I do too. I really fucking like it.”

He repeats it over and over and over as he loses himself in you.

You were his. You were going to be his forever.

He is yours.

“Bradley!” you cry out after a powerful thrust, “Yes, yes, you’re mine.” He didn’t even know he was saying that aloud so high off your body, from watching you take both of his cocks like he was made just for you.

He gets a hand under your ass, keeping you moving against him. The sounds of sex fill the bedroom of the home he has built with you. He can feel the coiling sensation taking root in the base of his spine as your hand smooths up your body to clutch at your breast.

There’s no holding back the feral grin that overtakes his face when your legs start to tremble and quiver.

“That’s right, honey, only my cock can make your legs shake like this,” he says, rough and ruined. “Always gonna take care of you.”

Your back arches and bows off the bed when he works his thumb in rapid circles against your clit, getting you closer and closer to your release. The two of you are past words, past thoughts. Both chasing that all-encompassing blinding pleasure.

Your body pulled tight, tighter, tightest as he fucks into you until you are quaking and writhing and coming.

And with you over the edge, his own climax reaches a tipping point, and with a guttural groan, he lets go too.

He comes and comes and comes.

Bradley had peppered you with kisses and whispered all kinds of soft praise in to your ear as you had both floated back down surrounded in a rosy-hued aura.

You did so good, pretty girl. So, so good. You’re perfect.

You had whimpered when he pulled out of you, not wanting him to move an inch, not wanting him to do anything than run his gentle hands over you. You were always especially clingy afterwards.

And then he had coaxed you off the bed and out of that pretty red lace and into the shower with him. He lathered you with that expensive body wash as you leaned against him. He had dropped tender kisses along your shoulder as he dried you off with the fluffiest towel he could find.

The two of you still look entirely fucked out as you cuddled in bed eating the birthday cake you had made him.

A stroke of genius on your part.

The glass cake stand rests on his thigh as the two of you take forkfuls directly from the cake as some sitcom rerun plays in the background.

“This is so good, honey,” he moans around another bite. He loves the way your face lights up at the compliment.

“Yeah? You really like it?” you ask all sweet anticipation.

He leans in giving you a deep, sated kiss.

“Mm, definitely my favorite,” he murmurs. “Although, shouldn’t this say ‘best dicks ever’?”

He had been expecting to see maybe a simple Happy Birthday, instead he was endlessly amused to see Best Dick Ever piped across the top of the cake.

You bury your face into his neck and laugh. The sound makes him chuckle too.

“Well, I’ve still got extra frosting,” you say pulling away to grin up at him, “That’s something we can make happen.” You jokingly move to get out of bed.

He makes a dissatisfied grunt as he pulls you back to him, “Don’t you even think about get out of this bed.”

You look pleased as you nestle into him, tucking yourself even closer against him, “Don’t think my legs would work anyways, you fucked me too good.”

“Damn right, I did.” His tone is all smug pride as he leans down to kiss you.

“Happy birthday, Bradley,” you murmur against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. Thank you for everything, this was the best day.”

According to the clock, his birthday has been over for one hour and forty-seven minutes, but you will always be the best gift he could have ever hoped for.

Happy Birthday, Rooster! Thank you for your slutty little waist and your slutty little strut and your slutty little shimmy. Here's to the man who launched 1000 fics and all the THOTS.

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @laracrofted for letting me spam them with the chaos that was this story. You both are the real MVPs.

You can read more of my fics here!

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

Text

southern state of mind

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 2.7k

You and Jake are best friends, bonded by your hometown and love for line dancing. You take Bradley and Natasha into the city to a country and western bar and teach them to dance, and hopefully to make your move.

Y/CS - your call sign

Use of Y/N but no description of reader

A/N: I wrote this with the bar scene from Footloose (2011) in mind. Listen to ‘Fake ID’ by Big & Rich and Gretchen Wilson when you read the final scene.

Keep reading

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

Text

What a wonderful wedding

Summary: What if you had caught one of your cousin's wedding guests' attention, but you had been too busy helping out with her wedding to notice him? The bride comes to the rescue.

Warnings: reader described as a small person, fluff

A/N: got longer than expected, woospie daisies

Enjoy!

So fucking perfect. That was how you could describe your cousin's wedding up until now.

Rebecca, or Becs as you always called her, was the cousin you were closest to, you two were basically sisters. She and her newly wed husband Rueben were the cutest couple possible. They actually made you believe in love again.

After the break up with your longtime boyfriend, she moved hell and earth to be with you, to comfort you.

It might have been a year already, but you were somehow still stuck in your post-break up slumber. Knowing you, but most of all her bridesmaids, Rebecca had asked for your help during the preparations of the wedding and even today, the big day, you were helping out. You had to admit the result was exactly what you had hoped for and the preparatios helped wonderfully getting you out of your slumber.

The ceremony had the most romantic scenery you had seen, with a lot of thanks to yourself. Before Rebecca arrived, Rueben and his friends were stealing the show wearing their Full Dress uniforms. You took a quick glance at them, who doesn't love a man in uniform, to go back to perfecting the last little details before your cousin would appear. Your eyes quickly crossed paths with one of the very hot groomsmen. 'Probably a coincidence, just looking around like I was', you thought, only with your heart skipping a beat. This only lead to you not noticing those two eyes following your every move, lingering to talk to you, hoping he would catch your attention too.

The men might have stolen everyone's attention for a bit, but when your cousin made her grand entrance, guided by your very proud looking uncle, your heart skipped a little beat. She looked stunning in her fairytale-like wedding dress. Her hair styled simply but with a couple of details to make her whole appearance marvelous. But it was her smile that was the last detail to complete her angelic look.

You were definitely not the only one noticing her beautiful look on her day. Your aunty and uncle had happy tears escaping down their cheeks and your granny was glooming of happiness and talking to your granddad in heaven, who also was very happy as the sun was shining today. But most important of all, the from, the look on Rueben's face when he saw his bride was the look every bride would want on her special day. He gripped one his groomsman next to him when Rebecca made her entrance. His smile matched Rebecca's and his eyes were glued on her until she stood in front of him. This man was after 8 years still very in love with his bride-to-be. That look in his eyes made you believe again that real love did exist, only you had to find the right person.

Now, an hour into the party -by the way, the first dance was amazing, insert emoticon with star-eyes.- after you were finally able to ditch your aunts and uncles, you had made it to the dancefloor. Becca had obliged you, because, yes, you were still busy making sure the the party was going smoothly.

"Now relax and enjoy, you already have done too much and it has been sooooo perfect! I love my bridesmaids a lot, but they would all together never able to pull off anything like the perfect party you have given Rueben and me. So please please please, enjoy." She took your hand in hers and was on her way dragging you to a group of men, with some woman around the group trying to catch any of their attention.

"Oh my god Becs, those groomsmen earlier, they were looking so hot in their uniforms." The couple of wines in your system were making you spill the things you normally would only tell her on a girl night.

"How much wine did you have? And yes I've got to admit, men in uniform are eyecandy." She sang with her eyes locked on her hubby.

"Just two, how would I have ever survived uncle Fred's ramble about politics."

"Okay, you have a valid point, I would probably need a whole bottle to survive him," Rebecca laughed, "so, anyone of them catching your eye?"

"Uh, not really, no." Rebecca stopped and looked at you with an questionable expression that made you laugh. "Okay, okay, miss Fitch, the one with the moustache." You admitted.

"Oooh Bradley, good choice. And miss Fitch, sweetie, I love the sound of it, still a bit unreal, but so wonderful. Come on."

The second you were about to approach the group, you saw him arrive back. But he was holding hands with a beautiful woman. She had beautifully styled dark brown hair and a very beautiful body. She was a thousand more beautiful than you. So, he was taken, with his looks it wasn't actually a surprise.

With your mood now taken a major hit, you hung your head a little lower, suddenly the floor was very interesting. Rebecca wiggled her and your body between the men and nudged Rueben for his attention.

"Guys, guys, there is someone you all need to meet. This day wouldn't have been this wonderful without her, she organized almost everything. I know it must have been hell with me being away a lot and Becca's mind being distracted too. Guys meet Becca's cousin."

You heard your name echo a couple of times, but you only heard the echo coming from the man with the moustache. Fuck, that voice. It was so deep and masculine, that you had a hard time getting your eyes off him. You really tried not to focus only on him, knowing he was taken. But it was so hard to fight it.

Rueben introduces them all to you, except for the blond one, Jake or Hangman, he was very quick to introduce himself before Rueben even had the chance. So Bradley and Natasha, they looked good together. Only weird they weren't holding hands anymore.

After a little smalltalk with Jake, you excused yourself from the group to get a new drink.

"Hey, everything okay sweetie?"

"Yes Becs, just a little overwhelmed." You tried to put up a genuine smile. "Go have fun with your friends, I think the are trying to get you attention."

"Oh God, I'm going to try to get them away from Rueben's friends. I do not want them to interfere with my life with Rueben. I love them, but you know how they are."

"Yeah, I think I understand." You chuckled. "See ya later Becs, have fun!" And off she was, and you finally had some rest at the bar.

You were playing a little with the drink chart as you were contemplating what to get.

"So, I see you escaped from Hangman." That voice came up from behind you.

"Oh, hi, uhm, Bradley right? I just needed some ... rest, the group is a lot." You smiled nervously.

"They can be, so, what you're going to get, Shortcake?" That nickname you hear earlier tonight. Only coming from Bradley you didn't mind.

"You too?" You curiously asked.

"I came up with the name, Hangman stole it."

"But why though?"

"Well, shortcake, if you let me join you, I might let you know." Bradley was teasing you already and letting a small smirk appear on his face, his moustache twitching a bit

"Uh, okay, 2 questions for you first."

"Shoot." Damn his his big brown orbs, they were staring at you and by the looks of it he wasn't going to look at anything or anyone else. Dispite...

"Okay, doesn't your other half mind that you are -"

"Oh no, that, uh haha," was he making fun of you? "I'm not, I'm not in a relationship with anyone, yet."

You were baffled by that. "But, earlier? You were holding hands. I can't follow."

"Oh, you saw that, is that why I suddenly saw your smile fading? You were shining throughout the whole evening and when you joined us ... shit, that wasn't supposed to-"

"So you are dating her?" Disappointment was written all over your face, even more now than before, was he really trying something with you when he already has a girl?

"No, I'm not dating Nat, she was helping me out to get through that other group without getting inappropriately touched everywhere. In fact she has been nudging me all day to talk to you." A smile appeared on his face when mentioning you.

"Oh my god." You hid your head in your hands, trying to become invisible of embarrassment. Only to accidentally throw the drinking chart at Bradley. If only that sinkhole from your wish earlier could appear now under your feet...

"Shortcake, look at me," Bradley took your face out of your hands and kept your face into his hands until you looked at him. A little tear was visible and Bradley immediately got rid of it. "Rueben and Rebecca, actually Rebecca, talks about you a lot, with pictures sometimes. I really became intrigued by this cousin she always mentions. Then she mentioned that luckily now ex-douche and I just started to wish him away from you. And when I saw you for the first time in real life today, I felt something click. I regret it so much not coming with Rueben and Rebecca to punch the douche in the face, no one treats a girl like that. That was what I felt the first time I saw you, maybe with a couple of heart flutters. But you had a second question." Bradley was rambling, he knew it, but he had to get it out before you would say something.

"I, oh, wow, I need a second. Wait, you are genuinely interested in me? You don't even know me." You said while pointing at yourself. Bradley nodded in response. Every single feeling of sadness disappeared to make place again for the sparkly and shiny mood you had.

"Well maybe I feel like I know you, just through Rebecca. So if you give me a chance at least, to get to know each other, for real."

"Okay then, second question, where are your uniforms? Not that I mind the tux." A little smile appeared on your face as you felt some butterflies start to form in your belly.

"We changed after the ceremony, not to get into trouble with the Navy if we would get drunk or do something stupid. Not that I was planning on. Shit, I didn't mean it to come out like I was planning on doing any of that." Bradley hoped you weren't noticing his nervousness, he really didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. He still remembered when Rebecca and Rueben were talking about you, that you deserved to be loved and cherished. Bradley didn't know you yet, but after seeing you for the first time made him believe in love at first sight (let's forget for a moment he was interested in you when they were talking about you).

"It's okay, I get what you mean. So, since we're at the bar, can I get you something? My treat." You joked.

"Ooh, the lady is buying, a beer is fine."

"A beer and a red wine please."

After getting your drinks Bradley walked you to a calmer spot outside. Rebecca noticed Bradley's subtle hand on your back and shot you wink and a thumbs up.

Finally away from the spying aunties and uncles, the obnoxious Jake but more importantly alone with Bradley, well kind of, some other couples were outside too. You thanked yourself for placing these romantically decorated benches outside, where Bradley and you sat down.

You and Bradley talked and talked and talked until your drinks were empty. You learned Bradley was just as domestic as you, you both still loved going out now and then. But a movie on the couch with a snack was on top of your favorite activities-list. Truth to be told, everything what your ex missed, you discovered in Bradley.

"So ... Shortcake." You tried again on the topic.

"Yes shortcake."

"Oh come on tell me!"

"Those big eyes, shortcake, you are really desperate to know. Well, if I must. So first of all, I really love shortcakes. My mom used to make them a lot. They are layered. And with every layer, it gets better and better. And the way my mom made them, they were cute, small cakes, kind of like you."

"Are you making fun of my height?" You asked trying to look serious, while you were melting on the inside for the teddy bear-looking hunk next you. Bradley's reaction immediately went from a lovesick sixteen year old to one filled with shock. Until you couldn't hold back your laughter anymore. "You are easy to mess with, I like the nickname, but only coming from you." You shuddered at the end of your sentence when a cold breeze came up.

"I'm such an idiot, you are cold, here take my jacket." It was way too big, but oh so warm and it smelled like Bradley. Were you suddenly feeling a little intoxicated from alcohol, or was is because of Bradley's scent? You had a couple of wines spread over the evening, but it was his scent that withdrew you from reality. The heavenly mixture of wood and that hint of citrus guided it's way through your nostrils straight to your brain. It made you feel like you were on this fluffy cloud you never wanted to leave. Without noticing it, you moved the jacket closer to your nose, loving the scent a little too much.

"That cold?" Bradley asked, not noticing you were basically sniffing his jacket.

"Oh, sorry, it, uh, feels good and warm." And smells like you... You smiled awkwardly.

Bradley stood up and took your hand in his. "Well, I know other ways to get warmer."

Did he just suggest you two... "Uh"

"Come on, let's dance!" Let's say the intoxication on Bradley's scent was making your mind wander off to other ways to heat up.

Once inside, you kept Bradley's jacket on, just letting the competition know he is interested in you. A little insurance never hurt.

Your bodies stayed close while dancing, leaving just enough space for Bradley to show off his moves.

Until that typical cinematographic scene, a body collided in your back, so you got smashed into Bradley's strong arms. His eyes worriedly glued to yours. But his arms around you was what made loose contact with reality for a moment. His lips were moving and a sound was coming from between his lips. But you were unable to hear it, some automatic reaction made you nod when his lips stopped moving.

The worried expression changed into something sweet, his brows lowered again and this spark reappeared in his eyes. Were you melting? Like for real, were you like a chocolate statue that starts to get liquid when warmed up? You already started to feel some drops forming. Was this it? The end?

"- I am a grandpa." You got snapped out of your trance. You were not melting, everything was okay. Wait what?!

"Huh?"

"Shortcake, did I really needed to say something weird to get you back to earth?"

Awkward! This voice in your head was screaming and laughing, but so were you, and Bradley too. Without thinking you hid your head in his chest, still being locked in his arms.

"Oh my god! Sorry." You immediately withdrew your head and tried to look in his eyes.

"You're a cute one, you know that? Please, tell me you are always like this?"

"Unfortunately for me, yes." You said to yourself while facepalming yourself mentally, again.

After talking somewhat more in a quieter corner, discovering you were both staying in the same hotel, the fatigue of it being 5 am already started to get the better of you.

"Not only are you just a cute one, your yawn is cute too. Tired too?"

You nodded. "Yeah, if you don't mind, I am going to call it a night or day already."

"Me too, plus, I think the others have also left already. Would you mind if I walk you back to the hotel? You know, since it is the same one." Bradley was cursing himself for being this awkward around you.

"Lead the way." You snuck your arm in the small hole Bradley left for your arm. It was a nice feeling you both had on the way back.

"So, this is me, thank you walking me. It was really nice meeting you."

"Yeah same, so uhm," Bradley moved closer to you, with his eyes locked with yours. "I hope I have been en reading this right." He kept on moving closer. His face was now extremely close to yours as you felt your beating rapidly. And what you hoped for happened. You felt Bradley's lips on yours. Immediately you felt the butterflies awaken again in your tummy from earlier when the two of you were talking.

"Shit" Bradley suddenly pulled away from the kiss, "sorry, I was going to wait till I asked you out on a date." Your expression went from horror to relief in not even a second from the moment Bradley explained his little shock. Was he even real? Gentlemen still do exist.

"Oh Bradley, if you noticed, I kissed back. Maybe I was secretly hoping for it." You smiled a little bit shyly at him.

"Thank God, but ... an official first date, does that still sound appealing to you?" Was this fighter pilot, who you always thought to be though and cool, being nervous? (You hadn't noticed the other occasions earlier the evening, being to busy melting for him)

"Since we kissed on our unofficial first date, let's forget about the alcohol that encouraged us, I look forward going out on a real date."

You exchanged numbers and bid goodnight with a last kiss on the lips.

Knock knock. Knock knock.

Probably a drunk jokester you thought. You tiredly made your way to the door.

"Oh, Bradley hi." Bang, in a second you went from zombie-mode to fully awake, adrenaline running through your veins. Noticing your attire, you tried to cover up your pj's.

Bradley was standing awkwardly with his right hand resting on top of his head in front of you.

"Hi, uh, weird question. Okay, wait, before I ask, I really planned to use a different timeline. I swear. But, can I sleep here in your room? Jake, I was stupid enough to share a room with him, he, uh, has someone over."

"Oh. Yes, of course." You kept on staring at Bradley. In contrast to the party, his tie now in his hands, a couple of the top buttons opened. He was incredibly hot in his uniform, but damn, looking like that? Extremely sinful.

"Then, can I come in?"

"Oh my god, sorry. Yes" You quickly made your way back to the bed, still realizing you were just wearing pj's, trying to hide underneath the blankets.

"I"ll take the couch."

Shuffle ... ten seconds later, shuffle another ten seconds later, shuffle. And that went on for a couple minutes.

"Enough Bradley. Neither of us is going to sleep if you keep wiggling like a worm on the couch. Hop in the bed, you're clearly too big for that couch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes"

"I sleep in my boxers, so, still sure shortcake?"

"Yes, still sure, so hop in. At least, if you can behave."

Bradley didn't need to get told twice. He slipped out of the trousers and shirt of his tux and quickly joined you in the bed. The temperature under the sheets immediately went up. It was unexpectedly comfortable with him next to you.

"Goodnight Bradley."

"Goodnight shortcake." Bradley planted a little kiss on top of your head. "Oh, and I will behave, my mama thought me to treat ladies right, we are going a date first." Maybe he didn't mind he couldn't sleep in his room tonight, he'll thank Jake later for that. Now he is going to enjoy having you close to him.

It didn't take long before the two of you dozed off to a good sleep. During the night your bodies shifted closer to each other, with eventually Bradley's arm wrapped around you.

This was the start of something beautiful, with the credits going to Rebecca and Rueben and of course Jake for sending Bradley to your room.

END

Taglist: @cycbaby @mrsjaderogers @mavrellover91 @bradleybeachbabe @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @luckyladycreator2 @xoxabs88xox @angelbabyange @mak-32 @jstarr86

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

Text

feels like

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader

wc- 2k

warnings- mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, vomit/throwing up, like one f bomb, established relationship, i dont think anything else

a/n- reader is a pilot lol. hope you all like it and send me any requests you wanna see!!!!

You were tired of vomit. Tired of the smell, tired of the nausea, and tired of the harsh sting it was leaving in the back of your throat. The past three days you had been pulled to consciousness by your uneasy stomach and ended up over the toilet as your alarm blared from the bedroom.

Bradley has had to leave for training extremely early this week and luckily has missed your ugly morning wake-up call. You’d been subtly avoiding his concerns at work; when you looked queasy after conditioning, when Jake’s body wash scent made you gag, and when you barely touched the coffee he brought you one morning. You played it off as a stomach bug, but your intuition was telling you something completely different.

Thankfully this week had been a zero flight week. You were terrified of flying if your suspicions were accurate, but you were also too scared to take the damn pregnancy test.

As you walked down the hall Friday afternoon, doing your best to avoid everyone, you made a pact with yourself that you would stop by the convenience store tonight. Bradley was staying late to help with new flight curriculum so you’d have the opportunity to do it alone.

Part of you wanted to share this moment with him, but your fear quickly overrode that. You and Bradley had been together for years at this point, ever since your first run at Top Gun. He’s mentioned kids a couple times, but never seriously. Deep down you knew he would accept this and be 100% in it, but your anxiety was on blast and your logical thoughts were nowhere to be found.

You were supposed to be heading to a group meeting, all Dagger Squad members present. Your nausea has been steady all day, and hasn't eased up since you puked your guts up first thing. It’s been miserable and your sweaty, pale complexion are a testament to that. You’re trying your best to take deep breaths as you walk through the humid hallway, but your stomach lurches anyway. You grip the wall nearest to you and clench your eyes shut.

Deep breaths. In and out. You wait for the pain to subside before you start walking again. You slowly enter the conference room, looking around. Last one here, great. You shoot a small smile in apology and head to the empty seat next to Bradley.

He gives you a quizzical look as Maverick begins a spiel about next week's itinerary.

“You okay?” He whispers, brown eyebrows pinched.

You inhale sharply and nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze in reassurance. He squeezes in return and tries his best to keep his attention on Mav, but your squirming is distracting. It’s too hot in this cramped office space. You swear you can feel each person’s body heat radiate off them, making your head spin.

Breaths. Deep freaking breaths. You’re trying to concentrate once again on your breathing as Phoenix asks a question, but everything is muffled and distant. You feel Bradley’s eyes seer into you and your jaw clenches unbearably tight.

This is not happening. You refuse. You’ve made it the whole week without getting sick at work, and you really don’t want your closest colleagues and friends to see you hurl in a tiny trash can. Bradley squeezes your hand tighter trying to grasp your attention, but you just stare ahead and will your body to stop.

Fuck. There’s definitely no stopping it. You shoot to your feet, pulling your hand from Bradley’s, drawing everyone’s attention. You briefly hear Mav ask if you’re alright and your hand quickly shoots to cover your mouth as you stumble to the trash can. Your stomach empties and you cough harshly, bent over the small container. You hear chairs screech and boots on the ground and soon feel a familiar hand slide up your back.

Bradley pulls your hair away from your face with his other hand and continues to rub your back, glancing around the room in concern. Phoenix and Bob shoot him sympathetic looks and Jake’s grimace is clear as day.

Mav makes his way over to you, cautiously, and shouts at Javy to get a medic. You raise your hand and wave at him, trying to refuse. You cough again, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“You just puked y/n.” Bradley states.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry- just I’m okay now.”

You slowly stand up and Bradley keeps his grip on you, moving you towards a seat. You glance up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and see the sympathetic looks sent your way. “Sorry,” You sigh.

Javy returns out of breath with the medic and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Y/n I think you should go get checked out,” Maverick says, “Rooster, why don’t you go with her.” He nods his head towards the door and motions for you, Bradley, and the medic to leave the conference room.

Bradley keeps his grip on your elbow as you walk slowly toward the med bay. The medic is asking you basic questions that you are trying your best to answer as vaguely as possible. When you enter the med area you begrudgingly let the medic take your temperature and check your vitals.

“Everything looks okay. I’d just get some rest and head to urgent care if your symptoms get any worse.”

You’re grateful the medic didn’t mention pregnancy and you nod in appreciation as they exit the small exam area.

Bradley sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Let me take you home, honey. Get some sleep.”

You shake your head, “No Roo it’s okay, I promise. You have to stay late anyway.”

You’re avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure why you feel so emotional all of a sudden, but with barely any sleep and vomiting up everything you eat, you’re exhausted. You feel tears prick your waterline as Bradley steps closer to you.

He reaches up and cups your face. It wasn’t always like this. You and Rooster are both stubborn to an unhealthy degree, and when you two got off on the wrong foot all those years ago you never imagined this. He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, examining you with his eyes.

“What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.” His voice is soft and it only makes you more emotional.

You close your eyes and feel the first tears escape down your face. “I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper.

You keep your eyes shut as you hear him inhale. He grips your face tighter, willing you to open your eyes. When you finally open them, he’s smiling.

“You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve been sick all week and I can’t remember when my last period was.” You sigh.

His smile only grows. Of course he would be excited. You’re not sure why you were convinced he would be pissed or upset. His reaction only makes you cry more and he tugs you closer into the warmth of his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and steps back, helping you off the exam bench. “Let's go home, yeah?” He asks.

You nod solemnly and thread your fingers through his, heading to the exit. Bradley lets Mav know you’re sick and he’s taking you home, planning to finish the flight course next week. He helps you into his Bronco and secures your seatbelt for you. He kisses you lightly before closing the door and heading around the car.

On the way back to your shared place he detours to the nearest convenience store and parks out front. Turning to you he says, “I’m gonna run in and grab a few tests. Do you want to come in?”

You shake your head and lean back against the seat letting it absorb your exhaustion. He’s quick inside and jogs back out to the car with a full bag.

“I didn’t know which one to get so I just grabbed a bunch.” He pulls a few out to show you and you laugh at his eagerness.

He smiles at you and places the bag in the back seat, squeezing your knee as he starts the car again.

He turns the radio on low as you watch your surroundings pass by. You don’t know how to feel about all this. Are you even ready to be a mom? You glance at Bradley and take in his tanned skin and light blush covering his nose and ears. He’d be a great dad, you already know it.

You try to shake off some of your anxiety as you head inside. Bradley pulls you close and squeezes your arm, sending you a reassuring smile. You exhale and turn to him, “Will you take it with me?”

“Of course.” He nods and rubs your arm gently.

You head towards the bathroom with the bag full of tests and Bradley fills a cup of water for you. You’re examining all the different tests when he enters and comes up behind you. He rests his head on your shoulder and reads the boxes with you.

You grab the test with the electronic Pregnant or Not Pregnant answer and a generic 2 line test as well. Bradley sits with you the whole time anxiously squeezing any part of you he can touch. You place the tests near the sink and set a timer on your phone.

You both sit in a comfortable yet tense silence. You can tell Bradley is more excited than you are but he’s doing his best to keep himself calm. The phone rings cutting off your anxious thoughts and you both stand together to look at the results.

You grab the line test first seeing two very visible solid lines. You quickly grab the other which coincides with a bold Pregnant flashing at you. You close your eyes and pass the test to Bradley, feeling the waterworks begin.

He gasps slightly and puts the test back on the counter. He laughs as he turns you to face him, “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everythings gonna be fine,” You can hear the smile in his voice as your tears fall faster.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Hey, look at me.” He cups your face again, your eyes opening to meet his.

“We’re gonna figure it out.” His smile spreads, “We’re gonna be parents holy shit.” You laugh at his excitement and pull him into an embrace.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You mumble into his shirt.

The next morning you head to a local clinic just to get a medical test and see if everythings okay with the baby. You’re given the all clear and relative timeline of birth and growth and everything seems so surreal. Bradley is beyond excited and it’s starting to rub off on you. He spent the whole night reassuring you and brainstorming possible names.

The doctor did let you know that flying is off limits. You feel a bit sad at the loss of flying, but know Mav will keep you busy in other ways. You keep reminding yourself this as you head to his office Monday morning. Bradley and you are hand in hand, him excited to break the news. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in” on the other side. You exhale and squeeze Bradley’s hand as you push the door open.

“Hey y/n, Bradley.” He nods. “Feeling better?” He places the paperwork he was looking at down and looks between you both.

You glance to Bradley who quickly nods his head, urging you on. “About that.” You turn back to Mav’s confused expression continuing, “Um, Bradley and I actually have something to tell you.”

Pete remains silent, questioning you both.

“I’m, uh, not gonna be able to fly for a while.”

His brows furrow, mouth opening to object, but you beat him to it.

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth drops in shock and Bradley laughs at his expression.

“I- I mean wow. Holy shit!” He laughs. He stands and rounds the desk pulling you into a tight hug and then Bradley. He shakes Rooster’s shoulders as he pulls away and his face is ecstatic.

“I’ll be damned,” He looks between you both again and shakes his head. You glance at Bradley and smile.

Bradley’s grin is contagious and he shouts, “We’re gonna be parents!”

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bradleyroosterbrqdshaw · 2 years ago

Text

Something In The Orange

Requested: no

Summary: When Mav pulls Bradley’s papers, you have no idea. You only find out when your boyfriend dissapears in the middle of the night.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, handjob, oral sex (male & fem!receiving) fingering, penetrative sex, foul language, loss of virginity, angst, break ups, crying, fights, insecurity, complicated relationships, drifting apart. Please let me know if I missed anything! 18+

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Bradley was the first person that you ever really loved. The two of you had met during your junior year of high school. Ever since then, the two of you had become inseparable. You finally started dating the summer before your senior year. Bradley had applied to USNA and you had a scholarship to go to law school in Texas. Even though you had only been together for just over a year, you felt like you would spend the rest of your life with Bradley.

Now, you were riding shotgun in Bradley’s blue Bronco. You were on the way back to his house. His fingers were intertwined with yours as he pulled up to the sidewalk. Your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your knuckles as he shut the truck off. Hopping down, he rounded the front of the truck and opened your door for you.

The two of you walked hand in hand toward the door. The house that he, Mav, and Ice were staying in had light blue siding and a large white front porch. There was an American flag hanging from the roof of the porch and a large elm tree in the middle of the unfenced yard. Ever since Carole passed a few months ago, Mav and Bradley had been staying with Ice.

You were quiet as you slipped into the darkness of the house. The two of you giggled quietly as Bradley led you up the stairs and into his bedroom. The sound of the door clicking softly behind you mixed with your laboured breaths was all that could be heard in the tiny room.

Tonight was finally going to be the first time that you and Bradley had sex. And while Bradley had some experience in this field, you had no idea what you were doing.

Bradley’s hands settled on the side of your face as his lips moulded together with yours. You melted into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth when it traced the seam of your lips. A quiet, high-pitched whine escaped you as his tongue tangled with yours.

He pulled away a few seconds later, laughing quietly as his forehead knocked against yours. “You gotta be quiet baby.” There was a sheepish smile on your face as a blush crept up your chest. Mav and Ice were right down the hall. You didn’t need them to hear anything of what was about to happen.

Suddenly, Bradley’s mouth went bone dry at the sight of you sinking onto your knees. You stared up at him as you brought one hand up to palm him through his jeans. He tossed his head back in a moan as you squeezed him softly.

Your boyfriend was panting when he looked back down. Slowly, you started to pull the zipper of his fly down. Then, as if you were teasing him, you popped the button on his jeans before dragging the material down his legs. That left him standing in front of you in nothing but his boxers. The sight made your mouth water.

With wide eyes, you glanced up at Bradley. He nodded encouragingly and sucked in a sharp breath when you began dragging his boxers down his legs.

His cock slapped against his stomach as you pulled the fabric down. There was a look of concertation on your face as you reached a hand up and gripped the base of his dick. It was one that Bradley had seen so many times before, usually when you had your nose hurried in a book. This time, however, was much less innocent.

You began moving your hand up and down his length, stroking him until he was fully hard.

By the time you were satisfied, there was a few drops of precum leaking from the head of his cock. The tip was an angry red colour. The whole time your hand was moving over him, you had been transfixed by the sound of his desperate moans and whimpers.

Bradley noticed the hesitant look in your eyes as you stared at the way his hips bucked in desperation. His hand settled against the soft skin of your cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You instantly began shaking your head. You wanted this.

Sucking in a shaky breath, you steeled yourself before tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock once more. You gripped him firmly, leaning forward until your breath was ghosting across his tip.

When Bradley felt your puckered lips press a soft kiss to the crown of his cock, he had to stop himself from cursing aloud. You slowly began to grow more confident. Eventually, you were licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, slipping the plush head inside your mouth afterward. That time, Bradley did curse.

You began suckling on the first few inches of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as you began bobbing your head up and down, trying to recall any tips or tricks you had heard from your friends.

Bradley groaned above you, head tossed back against the door as his hand wove into your hair. A surprised moan vibrated from your mouth and through his cock when he tugged on your roots. Your tongue traced the vein on the bottom of his cock as you pushed yourself further and further down him until you were gagging around his length.

A choked gasp escaped him as he pulled you off his length. Bradley was panting as your hand continued to move slowly up and down his shaft. There was a devilish look in your eyes as your hand trailed down to his balls. You grinned as you squeezed softly, rolling them around in your hand.

“Get up, Honey,” His eyes were hooded, pleasure clouding the now-dark irises. You obeyed, standing before him as his hands gripped your hips. Harsh enough to leave bruises. You slipped your shirt over your head, grinning at the way Bradley’s eyes were focused on your tits. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look in his eyes when he made eye contact with you. “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

You allowed Bradley to lead you back toward the bed. Your knees hit the back of the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft sheets. Bradley knelt between your spread legs. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the hungry look in his eyes.

Before you knew it, Bradley was slipping your shorts down your legs. Your breathing grew heavy as he began peppering kisses over the supple skin of your thighs. He kissed his way up to your center, leaving delicate purple marks in his wake.

Soft moans escaped you as he began to press gentle kisses over your clothed cunt. The cotton slowly soaked through.

Bradley looked up at you, eyes silently asking if you were sure about this. When you nodded your head softly, he grinned. Seconds later, the fabric was being dragged down your legs slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh.

The next thing you knew his lips were wrapped around your clit, causing your hips to buck wildly off the bed. You moaned loudly. Bradley's eyes darted up to yours, a cocky smirk on his face. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He reprimanded you gently.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Bradley ate you out like a starved man. He had your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand gripping your leg while the other pinned your hips to the bed.

You did your best to control your moans, even going as far as biting your own hand to keep yourself quiet. Bradley’s tongue laved over your dripping hole. A high-pitched whine fell from your lips at the feeling of him slipping his tongue into your hole.

You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. The feeling kept building and building, so much so until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, the feeling disappeared completely. “I want to cum around me.” His words alone we’re almost enough to send you over the edge.

He slowly crawled up your body, hands skimming gently over your soft skin. His hard cock brushed against your lower abdomen as he settled on top of you. You grinned up at him and he gave you a reassuring smile in return.

Bradley pressed a plethora of kisses to the side of your neck. Pleasured gasps tumbled from your mouth as your back arched off the bed. “Condom,” You moaned out. “Bradley get a condom.”

Feeling his body weight disappear for a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for him to return. When you felt the bed dip beside you, a flush began rising up your chest. Your eyes opened slowly, taking in the sight of Bradley kneeling above you, fisting his cock slowly. You moaned at the sight, watching as he rolled the condom down his length.

Nerves filled you as Bradley lowered himself onto you. “You ready baby?” You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. When it swiped over your clit you let out a sinful moan. Bradley groaned at the sound.

He stared deep into your eyes, reassurance shining through. Slowly, inch by inch, he eased himself into you. Your lips parted in a silent scream, suddenly overwhelmed by the intrusion. Bradley lowers himself down, cradling you to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your damp hair.

Before you knew it, Bradley was seated balls deep inside of you. You panted harshly at the stretch, eyes screwing shut at the foreign feeling. “Tell me when.” Your boyfriend's voice was low and raspy as he fought his hardest to restrain himself. You were clenching so beautifully around him that he almost lost it the second he slid in. You nodded distractedly, willing the slight discomfort away.

After a few minutes, you nodded softly. “Please just,” You murmured quietly, still trying to catch your breath. “Just be gentle.” Bradley smiled down at you. You knew that he would, you just needed to remind him.

Bradley began slowly rocking into you, only slipping out a few inches before pushing back in. You moaned at the feeling, eyes rolling back as his tip brushed against a spot so deep inside you it made you want to cry.

The only sounds that could be heard in the small bedroom were the sounds of yours and Bradley’s joint moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin. Your boyfriend's hips rutted into yours quickly, drawing cry after cry from your parted and cracked lips.

Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, Bradley let out a deep groan at the feeling of your wet cunt clenching around his cock.

The feeling from earlier returned. You could feel the hot white pressure building, a coil tightening more and more with each of his sharp thrusts. You hardly noticed the way his pace grew sloppy. His warm breath fanned across the skin of your neck as you arched off the bed.

The sound of Bradley letting out a high-pitched whine had you gripping his cock like a vice. “Please Bradley,” You begged breathlessly. “‘M gonna cum,” Bradley nodded, eyes screwed shut as his hand drifted down to your core. “Fuck!” You exclaimed at the feeling of his fingers circling your clit in tight, precise patterns.

That coil was winding tighter and tighter, right up until one final nudge of his cock against that little spongy spot inside you sent you falling quickly over the edge. Bradley followed close behind, hot spurts of cum filling the condom as your cunt milked him dry. He continued to rock into you, working the pair of you through your intense highs.

He stilled inside of you a few seconds later. The pair of you continued panting as you wound your arms around his back. You stared up at the ceiling, a blissed-out grin on your face. you were so glad that you and Bradley had finally done that. All the nerves and worries from earlier had disappeared completely once Bradley first slipped in.

That blissed-out smile soon turned into a wince when he slipped out of you. He crawled off of you and dropped the used condom into the trash can. Bradley disappeared to the washroom. You followed on shaky legs. Bradley stood in front of the toilet, finishing his business before stepping over to the sink.

You sat down on the toilet and shot him a lazy grin. Once you were finished you flushed the toilet, cringing slightly at the sight of blood in the bowl. You had heard that that could happen but it didn’t make you any more comfortable.

Hand in hand, you and Bradley made your way back toward the bed, collapsing onto it in a fit of giggles. You snuggled together under the covers, your head resting on Bradley’s sweaty chest and his arm tucked under your shoulders.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, the post-sex haze making you feel sleepy. You tucked yourself under Bradley's chin, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I love you, baby girl,” You heard him whisper. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer into his warmth. “Please don't ever forget that.” You hummed quietly, murmuring something along the same lines. Your words were slurred as you allowed sleep to pull you under.

“I love you too, Brad.”

The roar of Mav’s motorcycle was what woke you up in the morning. You stretched with a yawn, frowning when you felt the empty bed. You sat up, blinking quickly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. There was an orange glow streaming through the bedroom window and a quick glance at the clock told you it was just before 6 o’clock.

You got dressed slowly, guessing that Bradley and Ice were sitting downstairs having breakfast. However, the house was eerily quiet. Usually, when you stayed the night, you were woken by sloppy kisses being peppered across your face or the sound of Maverick and Ice laughing downstairs.

As you headed down the stairs, you continued to grow confused. You couldn’t even hear the scraping of utensils against plates. You rounded the corner into the kitchen, eyebrows furrowing when you found Ice sitting at the counter alone. He had a note clutched in his hands.

“Ice?” The sound of your voice caused his head to whip up. There was a sadness in his eyes, one that suddenly made you question why Mav sped off so fast this morning. “What’s going on?”

You sat down across from him, eyes the paper in his hand suspiciously. “Morning kiddo.” He had a sad smile on his face.

Worry grew in the pit of your stomach. “Where did Mav go? And,” You paused, glancing around the room in search of your boyfriend. “Where’s Bradley?” Ice almost didn’t want to tell you what happened.

He sighed, glancing between the note and your curious and oblivious eyes. “Look kiddo,” The Capitan started. He really didn’t know how to explain it to you in a way that wouldn’t destroy you. Honestly, he wasn’t sure that that was possible. “Just, just read this.” He handed the paper to you. It appeared as if had been crumpled and balled up multiple times. There were dark spots that you guessed had come from tears.

The letter was addressed to you and Ice. You found it odd that there was no mention of Mav. As you read through it, any hope that you had that everything was going to be okay died. It was from Bradley, explaining that due to the recent actions of Maverick, he couldn’t stand to live anywhere near Ice or Mav. He didn’t want them to have any say in what he did with his life. Nowhere in the letter did it explain why he wanted that.

“So,” You choked out, staring at the letter as you spoke to Ice. “What is this supposed to mean?” You stared at him, hands beginning to shake and tears welling in your eyes.

The older man stared at you with sympathy. “Bradley left last night,” A sob bubbled out of your chest. “Oh honey,” He cooed, pulling you into his chest as you cried. “Mav did something stupid and Bradley decided to leave,” His hand moved up and down your beck softly. “It’s not your fault.” He promised quietly.

You pulled back, breathing fast and hiccuping as you tried to calm yourself down. “Please Ice,” you practically begged him. “Please tell me that you’re kidding?” There was a sad smile on his face. You broke down into tears once again. “No,” You gasped out. You could feel your heart pounding on the inside of your skull. “He wouldn’t leave. Not after last night.” The reminder of what happened last night froze you in your tracks.

How could he do that after what happened last night? he knew how important that was for you. Apparently, it didn’t mean as much to him. Out of all the ways that you would have guessed this morning would go, either eating breakfast with your boyfriend’s makeshift family or sneaking out when no one was looking, you never thought that Bradley would have disappeared in the middle of the night. You never imagined waking up to find out that your boyfriend had left you without a goodbye after the night that you had spent together.

You had been there for him when Carole passed, holding him for weeks after he dealt with the loss of his mother. And now, he couldn’t even say goodbye or explain to you why he was leaving. There was hardly even a mention of you in the note he left. You thought that you at least meant a little more to him than that.

“What happened last night?” Ice’s question drew you out of your daydream. You shook your head. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Before Ice could stop you, you were rushing to the backyard, pacing around the deck as you sucked in laboured breaths.

The sliding door closed softly behind you, alerting you to the man's presence. Ice took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to explain why you were suddenly so distraught.

A humourless laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to feel embarrassed about what you were about to admit, too consumed with a mixture of worry and betrayal. “We slept together last night. For the first time.” It was hardly a whisper and in the background noise of Miramar waking up, it was almost drowned out completely. And yet, Ice still heard you loud and clear. He heard the tremble in your voice as you spoke and he saw the way your hands shook.

Ice remained silent, watching as you stopped pacing. You set your hands on your hips, staring out over the fence at the rising sun. With a sigh, the Capitan stood from his seat and walked over behind you. “I just can’t believe he would leave.” You whispered brokenly. Bradley meant the world to you. It sucked learning that you didn’t mean enough for him to stay.

The pair of you stood on the edge of the deck in silence, Ice’s arm wound around your shoulders as he tried to comfort you. “I know,” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fell down your face in steady streams as you came to terms with what happened.

Bradley had left. And as you stared at the orange hue tinting the sky, you knew that he was never coming home. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Ice held you as you cried, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.

You spent the rest of the summer trying to move on from Bradley. It didn’t work, you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t deny the small sliver of hope in your mind that one day Bradley would come home. He never did, and so, in the fall, you boarded a plane for Texas. Ice had dropped you off. He saw the distant and longing look in your eye. The spark that had once been there had now died.

While you were away, you and Ice kept in contact. You hardly spoke to Mav. Ever since Bradley had left, the man that had once been like a father to you wanted nothing to do with you. Ice could have told you why but honestly, you didn’t want to know. Bradley hadn’t even bothered trying to contact you. You didn’t know whether you appreciated that he stayed gone, or if you resented him for ever leaving in the first place. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you knew it was closer to the second option.

Years later you graduated law school and went on to become a lawyer. Time went on and eventually, you didn’t think of Bradley every day. There were some days when the memory would pop up again, reminding you of all the pain you left behind. Each time it happened, you wished that you could forget everything about that small town. But, you could never be able to forget Bradley Bradshaw. After all, he was the first man you ever loved.

a/n: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ��️ requests are open.

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