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pascalsbby · 1 year

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Little Bunny

Javier Peña x you

Summary: 2.1K Javier mistakes you for someone looking to make money. He doesn’t know that your dad is his boss - Or - Extremely frisky Javier gets bratty reader on her knees and takes what he wants <3

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, flirty and sweaty Javier, face fucking, he takes what he wants, dominate & aggressive, darkish!javier, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk <3

Based on this ask from @justlulu : Hey, I LOVE your dark content 🩷 I was wondering if you write for Javi Pena too, and also if you take requests?

I do take requests!! Thank you for your kind words. This is my first Javier post. Please comment and let me know what ya’ll think! 🤍

You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

The store’s bell rings as the door opens, letting in more of the unforgiving summer air. Along with it comes a broad figure, cast in the shadow from the awning. A quaint “buenas,” was directed towards the register as the fluorescent lights flickered, taking him in too. The artificial glow on his sweat-covered skin dropped down the collar of his shirt. It was a darker pink, unbuttoned and covered in his swelter. Leather jacket atop.

You knew what he was right away. In the way he walked, scanned the room before even stepping two feet inside of it. This town was full of them. You knew who he was a few moments after. He turns towards you, eyes hidden behind yellow aviators. They were one of three prominent features gracing his face, the others being his nose and neatly trimmed mustache. Each guided his presence with a dignified assurance, leaving an indelible mark on anyone fortunate enough to gaze upon his countenance.

In other words, he was fucking beautiful. And he was fucking delusional if he thought the Ray Bans weren’t going to set him apart from the general public. They were his staple and they screamed, “I’m probably a fucking DEA agent.”

You’d heard of him too, Javier. Or Peña, in the stories your dad told you. “You could never tell anyone these things mi vida, I tell them to you because I want you to be safe while we’re here.” You’d spent too many times looking at the pictures on his desk, the ones he had put in front of you stating, “puedes confiar en estos hombres si lo necesitas.”

“You can trust these men if you need to.” Is that so? Since when have you been able to trust any man? Especially ones who look like that in a pair of fitted blue jeans. Especially ones who take you from everything you know and move you to a different country in order to ‘make sure you’re protected’.

The store was mostly empty besides you- and now him. His presence was heavy, not easy to ignore. He looked too pretty- and he looked like your next game piece.

His cologne immediately filled the air and was followed by what an entire pack of cigarettes must smell like. You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

Javier must have felt you eating him up and you blush, feigning casual interest in the snacks in front of you. But he smirks as his lips part, catching you starring. “No he visto a nadie tan hermosa como tú en mucho tiempo.” Fuck.

He was in front of you, having already looked you up and down as he walked towards you. What a dog.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, looking around. “You speak English.”

“I do.” At least you used to, before he spoke to you and you had to crane your neck upwards to meet his eyes. He had taken his sunglasses off at some point, you were too enamored by his waist to see much else.

“I said, ‘I haven’t seen anyone so beautiful in so long.’”

He swiped his thick thumb across his pouting lips while he waited for your response. That usually works, huh?

It did.

He was flirting with his bosses daughter. He had absolutely no idea who you were, where you were going after this. The power that you yielded, simply from the last name you held. You quietly laughed. He must think you’re full of information, by how hard he’s trying. Why wouldn’t you want to be full of him? He was trying to get something from you.

His demeanor shifted as he waited for a response. Not towards embarrassment, he doesn’t seem the type. More so towards, ‘Fuck. Maybe I came on a little too strong.”

You open your mouth, contemplating what to say next as your eyes return to his. A spark of something…lust? Recognition? No.

His gaze flickers before he turns his attention back to the snacks. He knows that this is the most important part of the conversation.

“I was thinking the same when I saw you walk through that door.” You surprised him. He sat down the crumpled bag and looked back at you.

“Is that so?” He started, but you interrupted, not wanting him to keep the conversation going and figure who you were, how young you were, that you weren’t worth a shit when it came to flirting. That you weren’t someone who couldn’t be an informant.

“Can I have one of those?” You pointed towards his crotch, meaning his back pocket where his tattered box of cigarettes sat against his ass. You watched as his smile spread, laughing beneath the deep breath he takes as he pulls them out and smacks them flat against his wide palm. He picks one and hands it to you.

He lowers his voice as he steps even closer. “You can have whatever you want, conejita. Let’s take this outside.”

You looked down at his fingers and imagined what they were capable of, how long they were. All of the spots inside of you that they could caress. You took the cigarette and looked into him.

“Let’s.”

You imagined Javier liked to keep his outside of work activities on the low. His dirty little secrets were easier to keep when he hid them behind the facade of work. Of doing good for the world. They also happened to do well with his cock. You wondered if he paid them, too.

Of course he does. He’s a gentleman. ‘Someone to rely on’.

You put it between your lips as he dug in his other pocket for his lighter. “How can you fit anything in those? Let alone find anything.”

“Hey, these jeans don’t look good on just anybody, baby.”

Baby.

You huff and he falls back, scrunching his eyebrows towards the setting sun as he lights his own cigarette, first. What a gentleman. The fine lines of his face soften after he takes a long hit.

His hands ghost your face as the click of the lighter ignites and the fire burns closely to your face.

“What’s your name, anyways?” You ask, pulling in the burn.

“Peña.”

“Do you have a first name? Or is the last one just cooler?” He smirks.

Both of you sat in silence for a moment, looking around the street at the children playing.

“S’not too safe for you out here right now.��

“Why’s that?”

“Mierda, eres difícil, ¿no? Just trust me.” He huffed out a laugh.

So you did. There were eyes everywhere, if need be. You said what he had been pining for the entire time.

“So take me home then, Peña.”

He wasted no time walking you to where he was staying, the warmth of his palm not leaving your lower back until you made it to his front door. He had been trying to get small things out of you during the stroll. Where were you from? Why were you visiting? You didn’t give him much and you could tell it was bothering him. Every once in a while he would look down at you, his breath falling right into the ticklish spot on your ear. You wanted him.

It didn’t come as a surprise to either of you when he guided you in the door, shut it quickly and then grabbed the back of your head, moving his lips against yours.

He was soft and gentle, but his grip in your hair was stern- he’d seen the world, felt it. Watched it bleed, be unmerciful. He kissed you on your lips, then once on your cheek as an apology for not being able to contain himself. He kissed between your collar bones, lovingly, moving down to your breasts.

“How old are you again?”

“20’s. Old enough.” You were breathless. His lips were kissing at your sweat.

“Mhmm,” he moans against your skin.

“Gonna have to fuck it out of you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t give away information for free, Peña.”

“Get on the bed mi conejita.” He growled. For his line of work, he wasn’t very patient.

It was dark in his room, and the entirety of it smelled of him. You wanted to sink into his sheets and cover yourself in him. You made your way to the bed in the right corner of the room, the only light from the orange streetlights, barely on from the newly descending darkness.

He had been a flirt since the moment he opened his mouth, but he saved himself for the darkness. You prop yourself up, sitting at the middle edge of his bed with your feet on the ground, waiting for instruction. He seems like he’s the type who wants to be in charge.

His shirt is off quickly, and the amber light hugs the curves of his chest, his hips. His lips touch exactly what he wants them to, nothing more. You wanted them to wrap around you like they had his cigarette, before.

His nose kisses you, too. He kisses like he never will again. And he doesn’t, not really. Not many people have touched his lips, as compared to the rest of him.

He’s an angry man, it runs through his veins, and you can feel it in his force. But he wants so badly to be calm, still, soft, in the way he caresses you. How can you not be angry at the world when you’ve seen what he has?

The thing is, you have. Not to his extent, surely. But you’d seen a lot pass your dads desk.

“Now tell me, cariño, what do you need to give me what I want?” You scoffed as he pulled away, removing his arms from either side of you on his bed.

“Tell me your first name and then let me suck your cock.”

Who was winning at this game?

You pushed him forwards and made enough space in front of him for your body, as you slid down to your knees, hitting the hollow wood harder than anticipating as you unbuckle his belt. You go ahead and take it all the way off, kissing his stomach as you fidget with his zipper. His hair peaks out over the top of the layers as you impatiently pull his jeans lower.

He’s so hard that it’s making it difficult to take them off, cock pressing against the tight denim. He gasps softly as your hand reaches him. You pull his already showing head out of his boxers, licking your lips before wetting his tip and licking up anything he was already willing to give you.

“Javier,” He gasps his own name.

“Mmm,” you moan as you hold it in your hands. It’s heavy, long. His balls are heavier as you grasp them, only imagining the sound they’ll make slapping against your cunt.

You’d teased him enough.

“Javier,” you were whining now. He groaned at his name on your tongue, mixing with his precum.

“Hush and open your throat.”

You pushed your wet tongue into the bottom of your mouth, opening your lips wider in attempt to take him easily. But this wasn’t going to be easy, considering the size of him.

You let the saliva pool in your mouth and he lifts an eyebrow, asking for permission. You look up at him and nod.

Immediately his hand are in your hair, moving them around as he finds the right grip to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Too big baby? I thought you were a big girl? Old enough? That’s so cute, it’s not even all the way in. Let’s see if you can do it, hmm?” He lifts his head and it falls backwards as he takes your throat completely, your neck and body jumping at the intrusion. You find yourself lifting your hands to his hips, trying to find anything to hold onto as he fucks himself down your tongue and into the back of your mouth.

“So pretty, little bunny.” Finally revealing the nickname he gave you. “But I’m not finished yet.” You sputter around him, opening your throat even wider.

Your knees are carrying a dull ache, and you almost wish you hadn’t asked to suck him off. You remove yourself from him and attempt to catch your breath.

He continues carving out the shape of his cock in your throat and you relax, letting his angry head hit the back of your neck.

His voice is so deep, vibrating even, but his whimpers aren’t as they slip past his lips. He’s ruthless in his attempt.

“All done, sweet thing?” He pulls himself from your throat and looks at the connecting spit.

“I’m not. If this mouth isn’t gonna tell me what I want to hear than I might as well fill it as I see fit, yes?”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Masterlist

Ya’ll, I saw this ask, thought about Javier smoking, and then this happened within 45 minutes…

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sunarots · 1 month

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so high school ━━━ atsumu miya

10. darlin’ ♡

Using the sleeve of your hoodie, you use the small mirror in an attempt to dry your tears from your eyes before Atsumu came back and caught you. Unfortunately for you, the door flies open with an instant complaint. "Can't do shit here. We need to- What's wrong?"

You bite your lip and try to stop more tears from flooding out at the thought, closing the sun visor and relaxing back into the car seat. Even though you may not be used to the doors yet, you couldn't deny that the seats were almost as comfortable as your bed. "Wakatoshi's moving to Poland." You can't stop your voice from breaking halfway through the sentence, a sign that you were very likely to keep crying about it until you would wake with a headache.

"Is he really? Wow, Adlers are going through it." He turns the key in the ignition and looks back to you when he catches you sniffle. "I'm sorry, it was rough when Shoyo left. Can't believe two of yer friends left. Let's go get KFC, yeah? Cheer ya up. I'll pay."

You look up from your lap, laughing through your tears when you catch him attempting to wiggle his eyebrows are you. "Thanks, Atsumu."

"Here, choose whatever music ya like." He passes you his phone, telling you to keep it unlocked before he carefully pulls out of the parking lot and turns to the main road.

You scroll through some of his Spotify playlists, trying your hardest not to laugh at some of the songs he had hidden among the regular ones. You settle for one of the Fall Out Boy songs in the album, and adding loads of random songs to the queue. "I can't believe he's leaving, too," you mumble, turning the music up a bit louder and settling back into the seat.

Atsumu glances over at you, catching the tear running down your cheek. "Aw, y/n, yer still gonna get to see him. He'll be playing volleyball, so ya can see him when he travels. It's not forever."

You know he's right deep down, but you still can't help but feel hurt that your two closest friends for the last two years have up and left so soon together, and so far away. You were happy for them, you really were, but... Wakatoshi was right, you did feel abandoned. Forcing the tears to stay in your eyes, you look back down at Atsumu's phone and start scrolling through his liked songs on Spotify. And, they were certainly something.

It went from Hollywood Undead, to Taylor Swift, to My Chemical Romance, to MARINA. He really did listen to everything.

"Your music taste is... something. You have Corpse Husband and Sabrina Carpenter in the same playlist." You turn his phone to him even though he can't look at it.

He glances over at you and turns into the gas station, turning his focus back onto the road. "Just means I have fun at any club," he defends himself, stopping the car. "Are ya coming in?"

You nod your head, pulling down the mirror and sighing at your red eyes.

"Here, take these." Atsumu pops open the glove compartment of the car, pulling out a sleek, black case. He removes a pair of gold aviator Ray-Bans, putting them over your eyes. "Problem solved. Can ya run ahead and grab some snacks for the apartment? Just anything, yeah?"

You nod your head, picking up your phone and purse from the floor. "See you in there."

You tuck your phone and purse into the pockets of your sweatpants, fixing the sunglasses over your eyes and walking inside. You lap around the different aisles, grabbing multipacks of crisps and some different types of biscuits. You pick up a packet of chilli crisps and scan over the different drink options waiting for Atsumu.

At the sound of girls squealing behind you catches your attention, turning around to see Atsumu being huddled by a group of four girls around your age. You catch a few words here and there, and Atsumu seems to be bathing in their compliments. You shake your head and turn back to the refrigerator, picking up a bottle of white peach Fanta and slowly walking towards the counter, hoping Atsumu would catch up to you before you were served.

Sure enough, he tapa your shoulder and squeezes in beside you in the queue. "Sorry."

"Oh my god, the Miya Atsumu is talking to me. Can you sign my boobs?" you laugh through your words, unable to keep a straight face. "You love being in the spotlight."

"So what if I do? It's nice having people who appreciate ya," he responds, nudging you forward in the queue towards the empty checkout. "Pump three, and all this."

Before you have a chance to reach for your money, Atsumu lifts his card over the reader. You sigh, picking up some of the snacks to carry them back to the car with him.

“What’s that sigh for?”

“I was gonna pay for that.”

Atsumu laughs. “With what pay check?”

Your jaw drops, a laugh escaping before you can trap it. “Wow, low blow.”

You catch the stares of the fangirls lingering on you and Atsumu, fighting your urge to stick out your tongue at them. Instead, you turn your back and focus your attention fully on the car in front of you. Atsumu dumps the snacks in the backseat, leaving you with your drink and crisps.

“White peach Fanta? Yer disgusting. Don’t drink that in my nice car.” He grimaces at the thought, walking around to climb into the driver’s seat.

“What? It’s nice!”

“Nah, yer gross. But those chilli crisps are nice. Can I get some?” He waits for you to nod your head before reaching over, opening the packet and stuffing a few in his mouth before pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards the nearest KFC. “Thanks, darlin’.”

You raise an eyebrow, side-eyeing him through his sunglasses. “Why’d you do that?”

He hums. “What?”

“You keep calling me darling.” You sit your drink down beside him, taking a couple crisps yourself.

“I call everyone that. Why, d’ya want me to stop?” Concern washes over his expression, taking a fleeting glass at you to see if you were uncomfortable. “I don’t want to make ya uncomfortable, I can stop calling ya darlin’.”

You think for a second, giving him a small smile and leaning back against the seat. “I was just curious. You can keep calling me it.”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.

taglist (open!). @reignsaway @yuminako @thiisisntlovely @diorzs @aboutkiyoomi @spicana @bakingcuriosity @kr1nqu @savemebrazilhinata @dazqa @sereniteav @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @sleezzsister @hermaeusmorax @giocriedpower @sophosphorescent @gigiiiiislife @zazathezaer @rrosiitas @iaminyourfloors @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sillygooseymood

#so high school #haikyuu smau #hq smau #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x female reader #atsumu miya x f!reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x y/n #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya smau #miya atsumu smau #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x f!reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Rooster's Brood | Part 2

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Summary: The squad babysits and Rooster intends to take full advantage of his alone time with you.

CW: fluff, dad Rooster, Rooster loves his hot wife, suggestive banter and allusions to sex, A LOT OF KIDS (this is probably the biggest warning haha).

Based on this request.

Masterlist

You walk out into the living room to find that the rest of the squad has already arrived. The number of people crowded on the lower level of the house is laughable, but it’s the first time the aviators are babysitting, so they’ve decided that the more reinforcements they have, the better. You step around Mickey and your twin boys who are in the midst of terrorizing his pant legs to show off your new dress.

“What do you think?” you say, smiling at your husband as he looks up at you from the couch.

Three of your children are bouncing on the cushions so Bradley is bobbing up and down as his eyes rake over your figure. His mouth quirks into a sideways smirk and he rises from the couch, saying, “Wow.”

“Bradshaw, you’ve yet to tell us how you tricked this goddess into marrying you,” Jake says from the armchair where your daughter is cozying up to his knee. He’s absently running his fingers through her hair and she looks oddly content just leaning against his leg.

Bradley’s grin widens. “I’ll have to get back to you when I figure it out,” he says.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You like my dress?” you ask, turning on the spot.

Bradley nods. “It’s spectacular,” he says. “But it would look better on the floor.”

A chorus of gasps erupts out of the adults in the room. Jake claps his hands over your daughter’s ears with a horrified expression. “Rooster! The children!”

Bradley laughs. “Don’t worry, that was way too abstract for them to follow. I’m surprised you caught on, Hangman.”

Jake gives him a flat look while your daughter starts climbing into his lap. You find it endearing that she’s taken such a liking to him and even more sweet that he helps her up and wraps his arms around her tiny body, shielding her face with his hand as your other kids start clambering his legs trying to gain his attention.

“You guys better go before Hangman has a heart attack,” Natasha says, ushering the two of you toward the door. “Rooster, are you wearing jeans?”

“What’s wrong with jeans?” he asks, slipping his Ray-Bans over his eyes.

“Nothing, if y’all aren’t going to the same place,” Jake calls out.

Natasha eyes Rooster’s Hawaiian shirt and then the high heels you’re stepping into and purses her lips. “I never agree with Hangman,” she says. “But I have to agree with Hangman.”

Bradley gives her and the rest of the aviators an ironic smile. “Just don’t forget to feed the kids, alright?” he says.

“I think Fanboy brought five separate meals,” Reuben responds with a chuckle.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when dinnertime rolls around. Toddlers can be picky eaters, you know?” Mickey chimes in.

Bradley raises his eyebrows. “That’s not false.”

You clear your throat. “They’ll eat whatever you give them, just be firm. No dessert until they’ve had enough to eat.”

“Dessert?” Jake calls from the armchair although he’s not exactly visible behind the jumble of little arms and legs. All your kids seem to have decided that they want to sit on him. “What’s for dessert?”

Bradley looks over at you and winks over his sunglasses. “I know what I’m having for dessert.”

“Rooster!” Jake roars. “The children!”

You giggle and Natasha shakes her head with a smile. “I don’t know how many more innuendos Hangman can handle.”

Bradley smiles. “Alright, kids, we’re leaving!”

“Yes, we know,” Bob says, holding the door open.

You stifle a laugh while Bradley gives him an amused look. “I meant the other kids,” he says as a throng of your offspring race for the door to say goodbye. Bradley squats down to give each child a kiss while you pat their heads before they sprint back toward Jake’s armchair. The entire process takes no less than five minutes because Bradley has something to say to every one of the kids. When it’s your daughter’s turn, Bradley lifts her onto his knee and gives her a warm hug. “I love you so much, princess,” you hear him whisper in her ear.

“I love you too, daddy,” she says, putting her arms around his neck.

“Uh,” Javy says, watching the series farewells uneasily. “You guys are planning on coming back, right?”

Bradley chuckles as your daughter slides off his lap. “Bedtime’s at eight!” he hollers over the noise of the room.

“Where am I sleeping?” Jake calls back.

Bradley rolls his eyes and leads you out the door.

…

“Think they’ll be okay?” you ask, a little nervous to hear Bradley’s answer.

“Phoenix is there,” he says. “She’ll make sure Hangman behaves.”

You laugh. “Are Phoenix and Hangman –”

“They should be,” he responds with a grin.

You nod. “I thought so.” Bradley watches as you bring your glass to your lips. You catch his gaze and smile. “See something you like?” you ask playfully.

“Yes, that drink looks delicious,” he says.

You laugh, glancing down at your strawberry daiquiri. “Want some?”

“Oh, I definitely want some,” he replies with a smirk.

You let out a soft chuckle and he reaches for your hand. “What are the chances that all the kids sleep through the night tonight?” he asks.

“Negative chances?”

“Let’s get the squad to sleep over,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That might be asking too much.”

Bradley holds his phone up. “Phoenix has already offered. Apparently, the twins want Hangman in the top bunk.”

“Your poor friends don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.”

Bradley shrugs. “It’ll be a learning experience.”

“For your squad? Or for our children?”

“Both?”

“Well, if they’ve offered…”

Bradley’s grin widens. “So,” he says. “Where are we sleeping tonight?”

You raise your eyebrows at your husband. He licks his lips tantalizingly and you could swear that he gets sexier with every passing day. “Who says we’re going to be sleeping?”

Bradley watches you in awe. “Alright, so, you ready to get out of here or what?”

You start laughing again. “We haven’t even had dinner!”

“They’re taking too damn long,” he says with a hint of a whine in his voice. “And I’m not even hungry. For food, anyway.”

You glance down at his hand that’s wrapped around yours on top of the table, his grip tightening slightly in his excitement. “You’re so funny,” you say, but you can’t deny that his eagerness to get on with the evening has your heart racing too.

“Who’s joking?”

You shake your head, knowing that he’s mostly kidding. However, you also know that were you to agree to leave now, he’d skip dinner in an instant. “You’re cute,” you say.

“How cute?” he asks. “Cute enough to fuck before the first course?”

“Bradley!”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “That’s a yes, right?”

You give him a pointed look. “Your girl is hungry.”

“I could give you something to eat.”

Your mouth drops open and you glance around fretfully to ensure that nobody’s heard him. You glare at him threateningly, but he probably just finds the action adorable because his grin widens and he slides his fingers through yours.

“I’m kidding, honey,” he says, but the way the word honey sounds in his deep, slightly raspy voice makes you a touch unsettled. Perhaps you’re not as hungry as you thought. You stare into your husband’s dark eyes while his thumb draws slow circles into the back of your hand. You realize that what you want more than dinner rolls and a starter salad is his tongue in your mouth. His hands around your waist, your back pressed up against some wall or other.

“They look pretty busy,” you say, your breathing accelerating with how much your imagined encounter has exhilarated you. “We might have fifteen minutes or so.”

Bradley cocks an eyebrow, his thumb pausing its languid strokes. “Are you serious?”

You shrug. “Unless you’re not up for it.”

“Oh,” he says. “I’m definitely up for it. In fact, I’m up just thinking about it.”

You exhale sharply. “Let’s do it,” you say resolutely, rising from your seat.

Bradley looks up at you in disbelief as you spring up from your seat and pull down at the hem of your dress. He reaches over to brush his fingers over your thigh. “Why bother?” he says in a low voice. “I’ll be pulling it back up in a minute.” His thumb brushes the skin under your dress until you swat at his hand in shock.

“Bradley!” you hiss. “Don’t be so fucking obvious about it.”

Bradley smirks, adjusting his jeans before standing up. “I want everybody to know that I get to touch you,” he says into your ear as he pulls you in by the waist. “I’m very proud of that, you know?”

You melt into his arms as he draws your body into his chest, steering you toward the back hall of the restaurant. You can sense that the two of you are being so indiscreet that it’s bordering on obscene but, in the moment, you hardly have a care in the world.

You shuffle through the corridor toward the rear, past the swinging kitchen door, and Bradley’s hands close around your shoulders as he drives you into one of the darker alcoves near the exit. The back room that’s normally reserved for private parties is empty, so the two of you have the space to yourselves.

As soon as he’s pressed his body against yours, Bradley starts pulling up your dress. He leans his head into yours as his fingers hook into the lacy band of your panties and he lets out a shaky sigh.

“Do you have a condom?” you breathe heavily into his face as his lips catch yours in several soft, sensual kisses.

“No,” he says. Then, he gives you a mischievous grin. “But when has that stopped us before?”

Read next: The Making of Rooster's Brood

Rooster Tag List:

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

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

All Too Well

Series Warnings: Language, drinking, military inaccuracies. Allusions to smut, eventual smut. Unrequited love, enemies to lovers. Adult themes and situations. 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist

Next Part

...........................................

Prologue: I Remember It

The sun was just setting as a red and black Kawasaki GPZ900R motorcycle pulled into the Hard Deck. The driver quickly dismounted and took off her helmet, shaking out her dark brown hair. She slipped a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators over her sage green eyes to block out the fading rays of light.

She draped her red leather jacket and helmet over the seat of her bike. No one around here would be stupid enough to mess with her things. After adjusting her clothes, she made her way across the sandy parking lot into the establishment.

Phoenix, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote were gathered in a corner booth as they watched Hangman and Rooster duke it out in a game of pool.

It was a relatively quiet night at the Hard Deck.

Phoenix was busy telling the squad about her recent trip back home to see her new niece. She was just about to show the group some photos when the bell above the door chimed. Her eyes moved to see who the new patron was, and when she saw them, her jaw dropped.

"No way." She breathed out. "No fucking way." The group of men she was sitting with looked at her confused. Her eyes darted over to Rooster to see if he'd noticed who'd walked in. He was too focused on the game to pay attention.

Phoenix watched the woman head over to the bar and greet Penny and Maverick before getting a beer and turning to scan the crowd.

"Phoenix, do you know her?" Bob asks. "You guys don't?" She asks the group. "Should we?" Payback questions her. "Who is that?" Fanboy asks.

"Fellas, that right there is Y/N Benjamin-Mitchell, better known by her callsign, Hustler." Phoenix tells them.

"Benjamin- Mitchell? Like—" Coyote asks as he gestures to Maverick and Penny at the bar. "Yep." Phoenix replies, popping the "P."

"She's their oldest daughter. And she can fly circles around any pilot in the Navy, including Maverick." She tells them.

A voice yells out, "Bradshaw!" Everyone's head snaps up to see its the mysterious woman. She runs over to greet Rooster with a hug who looks dumbfounded to see her.

"She also the only woman Rooster has ever loved." Phoenix tells them. As all eyes turn to watch the seen before them

...........

"Hus? What are you doing here?" Rooster asks you as he pulls back from your hug.

"Dad pulled a few strings and got me a permanent duty station here. He wants the family to be close again." You tell him. "Plus, I couldn't pass up on the chance to be close to my favorite guy again, now could I?" You bat your eyes and give him a big smile.

"Don't give me that look Y/N." Rooster warns you. "What look?" You ask coyly. Rooster knows exactly what you're doing. It's a routine he's fallen for many times, but he's determined not to let it happen again.

He grabs his beer and takes a long sip before speaking.

"It always ends the same with us, Y/N. Let's not start this time." Rooster tells you before returning to his game.

Dumbfounded, you turn on your heels and head back to the bar. You can already tell you're going to need your mom to make you something strong.

You sigh as you sit down next to your father before a tequila-soda is placed in front of you. "Maybe it was a mistake coming here." You tell your father. "Y/N, give it time, Bradley wasn't exactly jumping for joy when he saw me either." Maverick tells you.

"I just can't believe after all these years, he's still holding a grudge over something I didn't do." You say. "And the fact that you've breezed in and out of his life so many times doesn't make the situation any better." Your mother tells you. You look up and meet her knowing eyes. "Believe me. As someone who's been in his shoes, getting their heart broken by a Mitchell, it's not something that you just get over. Especially when you have a knack for re-opening the wound right after they thought it had healed." She tells you as she wipes the counter.

You sink down in your chair. You know what she's saying is true. Your parents had been on and off for the first few years of your life before your mom eventually gave Maverick an ultimatum, stay, or leave for good. He chose to stay, and it worked out for them.

But they were different than you and Rooster. You didn't choose to leave him the first time. No, the first time he pushed you away, calling you a liar and a manipulator. Saying that you were no better than your father. He called you a hustler, screaming that you used him to further your career.

You tried to make him understand that it wasn't true. You can still feel the got tears that streamed down your cheeks when you begged him to believe you, but it was too late.

So, you decided to lean into his words. If he was going to call you a hustler, then that's who you'd become. And for the past eight years, that's who you've been. Hustling your way to the top, becoming the best of the best, breaking records, and breaking hearts along the way.

It was thrilling at first, but then you were stationed with Bradley for a few months in Virginia. The two of you found yourself enthralled with each other once again, ending up in a tangle of sheets and mixed emotions before you were reassigned. You'd left without telling him. A year or so later, the two of you spent a few weeks in Lemoore, only for it to end with you leaving him again.

Then last year, you were in South Korea. You spent six months with him, and then one night, as the two of you laid together, he confessed that he loved you. That you were the only woman he'd ever truly loved. Instead of saying it back, you quietly slipped out of his room that night as he slept and avoided him on base. Two days later, he was called back to Top Gun for that faithful uranium plant mission.

You never got the chance to tell him that you felt the same. You were too scared to admit.

And now, you were back, and he was here, and you wanted to make everything right. You just didn't know how.

......................

Over at the pool tables, Phoenix and the rest of the Daggers had joined Rooster and Hangman. Jake and Javy were currently playing a doubles game against Mickey and Reuben. She, Bob, and Rooster were standing against the wall.

"So—Hustler is back." Nat spoke. "She is." Bradley breathed out. "How's that make you feel?" She asked him.

"Angry—frustrated —nervous—like—" Rooster trailed off.

"Like you never stopped loving her?" Phoenix finished for him. Bradley shook his head before downing the rest of his beer. He throws the bottle away and excuses himself to the bathroom. Phoenix doesn't miss Rooster's lingering gaze towards the bar as he walks away

"Bob," Phoenix begins as she turns to her back seater. "I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending."

Okay, I was kicking this around in my brain. I'd appreciate some feedback on this prologue to know if this is a project worth pursuing!

Tagging some who might be interested: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @gretagerwigsmuse @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @bradshawsbaby @cassiemitchell

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