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goosita · 4 months

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billy antrim is smooth

he pulls you in with strong hands at your waist, warmth radiating off of him. his chest is broad and sturdy where your hands fall against it, flannel shirt soft and worn. there’s a group of other men somewhere in the corner of the saloon, playing at their guitars and fiddles while the oil lamps keep the place lit in a hazy glow.

“hey, sweetheart,” he drawls, giving you a crooked smile. so boyish and sweet despite the heat simmering in his eyes. “missed ya today.”

he’s been out in the sun, that much you can tell. his cheeks are redder than usual, freckles dotting his nose faintly. dust has settled in the wisps of dark hair that fray out from underneath his hat. he smells like grass and sunshine, something masculine and heavy below the surface. billy’s been pulling long days, doing work he never really tells you about. all you know and need to know is that he’ll come find you at the end of the day, he always does.

everyone in town always called him “the kid”, but by the time you’d met billy, he was all man. his jaw sharp and stubbled, tall and broad and firm, unyielding. he commanded attention, even when he didn’t mean to. billy antrim holds himself confidently, self-assured. he had a natural leadership to him, something that it caused people to look at him and see him. the men watch him with mixtures of admiration and envy, and the women watch him with longing and desire.

“missed you too, billy,” you say with a smile in return. and its true; you always miss him during the day. billy haunts your thoughts when the sun is up, then slinks into your arms when the moon replaces it.

he pulls you in tighter to his body, his hand splayed across your lower back pressing you flush against him. his grin twitches up a little higher at the little gasp that his actions pulls from you. this close, you can feel exactly how much he’d missed you pressing into your lower belly through your skirts.

“i know, baby.” he dips his head to skim the tip of his nose along your cheek, his breath tickling your ear. “can’t wait to get you alone,” he whispers, pressing the softest kiss below your jaw. you knew people were probably staring, his bold display of affection in such a public space making you shiver. it didn’t really matter much, though. everyone knew you were his girl anyway.

“slow down, cowboy. i’m havin’ a nice time right here, actually,” you tease. billy lets out a breathy chuckle that makes your stomach do fluttery things.

the boys in the corner continue to play and you let billy sway you to their song, keeping his heavy palm at your lower back and holding your hand in his free one.

“alright. you want slow, i’ll be slow for ya,” he whispers, mirth dancing in his gaze. “anything you want, darlin’.”

always so in control, your man is. but he bends for you, lets you take his reigns. you know he’ll always give it to you. billy antrim is steadfast and unwavering, until you look at him with your pretty eyes and sweet lips. when you tell him what you want, that becomes his whim too then.

later on, when your wants begin to melt into each other until neither of you can wait any longer, billy keeps his promise. the way he undresses you and pushes you gently down onto his bed is slow, even slower when his lips and tongue caress everywhere on your body he can reach until you’re gasping and mewling his name.

slow even as he rolls his hips into you, feeling the way your thighs tremble around his waist. his hands take their time caressing the length of your arms before his fingers are wrapping around your wrists, pinning them into the pillows above your head. his mouth does wicked things against your own, his tongue teasing and teeth nipping softly.

when you beg for him to move faster, he smirks against your lips and shakes his head.

“nuh uh. you wanted slow, remember? we’re gonna be slow tonight.”

he chuckles at your whine, making a cheeky point to push hips hips even more unhurriedly. his pubic bone grinds against your clit at every press, making your back arch. his cock grazes against a spot inside you that makes you sob his name, relentless even as he takes his sweet time with you. it’s overwhelming, the sweetest torture as he moves against you. his bare skin sliding against yours feels like velvet, smooth and soft and warm.

he’s everywhere all at once, and you relish in being completely at his mercy. his sheets smell like him, splayed out around you as you writhe; his mouth only ever leaves yours to find a new spot to kiss, lick, bite. his hushed voice fills your ears, low moans and filthy praises that make your cunt squeeze even tighter around him. billy’s a solid weight above you, completely surrounding you and all of your senses. he’s taking you apart piece by piece and you let him.

when you finally fall over the edge, it feels like it lasts for ages. your body shudders and you pant, whimpering as billy whispers praises in your ear.

“that’s it, baby. cum on my cock, just like that. fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, and you can tell he’s close too. your thighs tighten around him, hips lifting to meet each thrust of his until he’s groaning and dropping his head to your shoulder, spilling inside of you. his body shines in the moonlight with a thin sheen of sweat, hot to the touch and sensitive.

billy antrim is smooth where you need him to be, when he occupies your thoughts at all hours of the day and lures you into his bed at night.

a/n: shoutout to the anon who told me about the black velvet edit on tiktok and also @ voidaconitum for making said edit

#lets try this again #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy bonney #william h bonney

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spiderispunk · 1 year

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return the favor

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Mentions of Pregnancy. Reader and Bradley Have A Son. Dilf!Bradley. Oral Sex (m! receiving). Dirty Talk. Domesticity.

Summary: He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too.

A/N: Honestly, I blame @withahappyrefrain, @ouralcohol, and Bud Light for this.

Little Nicholas “Nicky” Bradshaw came into the world kicking and screaming. Though he chose to make his grand entrance at around 3:30 AM on a quiet Thursday night, he was hell-bent on letting the whole world know about it. And so, with a whirlwind of forms, bills, and the shrill cries of the darling baby boy, you and Bradley were thrust into the throes of parenthood.

You both handled it well, or as well as you could for first timers. Working as a team to tackle midnight bottles, blowouts, spit-up and the frequent sleepless nights. You’d settled into an easy rhythm over the past seven weeks. Bottles every 2-3 hours. Naps in-between. Diaper changes. A little tummy-time when Nicky would tolerate it.

Day in. Day out.

You were worried the Navy-issued twelve weeks of parental leave would make Bradley squirrely– the repetition would become tedious–but here you were more than half-way through, and you hadn’t heard him complain about a thing.

If anything, Bradley took to the role of fatherhood eagerly. Sure, he might have missed being on base, the camaraderie, the planes, but he has other things to think about now. And he wouldn’t trade all the excitement for the joy of spending time with you and his son.

Everyday was another milestone, and so far Bradley had been there to witness them all.

“Nicky blinked at me today.”

“He almost turned his head.”

“I think I heard him try to say da-da.”

“He drank his whole bottle!”

“Do you think he’s old enough to wear shoes yet?”

Deeper down inside there was the growing fear of his impending absence . It wasn’t a question of if, but when . A mission would come, the phone would ring, and the goodbyes would begin. Pictures and grainy videos would stand in for the real thing.

But he was here now, and he was determined to soak up as much as he could.

Fatherhood suited Bradley.

He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy.

It would be infuriating if it didn’t turn you on so damn much. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d opted to let the stubble on his chin get scruffy now that he didn’t have to comply with on-base grooming standards.

For you, hopped up on hormones and the longing that comes with forced post-birth abstinence, it was a truly lethal combination. More than once, you’d gotten lost in your daydreams about what the coarse hair would feel like as his lips caressed your skin. Trailing down your neck, over your sensitive nipples, scratching between your thighs.

You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too.

You try to push the horny thoughts to the furthest recesses of your mind, as you enjoy the quiet afternoon. It’s a rare occasion. Nicky’s nap is going longer than usual–probably because he kept you and Bradley up the entire night before–so you’re trying to relish the stillness.

You doze on the couch, head pillowed in Bradley’s lap while he scrolls through the endless black hole of his phone. His thumb circles mindless patterns into your upper arm and shoulder. He hums quietly under his breath.

The TV is on, David Attenborough going on and on about the ocean and all its wonderful creatures. Sleep tugs heavy on your eyelids, aided by the soothing drone of his voice, and the patch of warm sunlight that falls over you.

You’re thinking you might finally be able to catch up on lost sleep, when a wail crackles through the baby monitor. Harsh and breathy, it shatters the silence, snapping you to attention. A hunger cry.

You sit up, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s due for a bottle.” You stretch your arms to the sky, groaning as the muscles in your back and shoulders stretch and loosen. “I’ll go warm one up.”

“Hey.” Bradley’s hand curls around your waist. “I got it.”

“You fed him last time,” you protest, turning to face him. “Stayed up with him for half the night, and changed his diaper three times in a row. S’not fair for you to do everything.”

He cups your face, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. “I got it. He’s my kid. ‘Sides you were falling asleep.”

“Bradley–”

He cuts you off with a quick kiss. “Baby. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of Nicky.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you promise, eyes not-so-subtly scanning over his body.

Bradley chuckles. “No payment necessary.” He kisses your forehead and then your lips once more. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod, and stretch back out onto the couch. Bradley pulls the crocheted throw blanket over you and, with one last smile, heads upstairs.

The door to the nursery squeals, and then you hear his voice through the baby monitor.

“Hey, Nicky,” Bradley whispers. “Look at you. Sleep okay, bubba? Yeah? You ready for lunch?”

The one-sided conversation continues as Bradley changes Nicky’s diaper. He asks about Nicky’s dream, tells him some of the facts he picked up from Our Planet, and shares his latest sports predictions.

“Your Auntie Natasha thinks the Padres have a shot this year. I told her she was crazy at first, but I might be eating my words soon.” A pause. “That means I’ll have to admit I was wrong. It’s an idiom. Your mama’s the English teacher though, she can teach you all about that later.”

You smile dopily at his words. The easygoing way he interacts with your baby. He’d been so worried at first. Scared to fail, scared Nicky wouldn’t like him. But there was no denying the simple fact that Bradley was meant to be a father. He proved that more and more everyday.

The steps creak as Bradley begins his descent. “Gotta be quiet, okay? Your mama’s sleepin’. Yeah, you tired her out last night.”

You hear him moving around in the kitchen and then the soft gurgling of the bottle warmer. Nicky whines impatiently, and Bradley distracts him with more stories. The effect of his words are two-fold, soothing both your baby and you. You blink sleepily, snuggled up on the couch all comfortable and warm. A few minutes later, aided by the hush of Bradley’s voice, you fall into sweet unconsciousness.

When you wake later, the room is wrapped in shadows. The once bright sunlight has started to dim. You swallow thickly, tasting stale breath. Your body aches from sleeping in the cramped space, limbs still heavy with sleep.

You reach for your phone sitting face down on the coffee table. The screen is bright in the dark room. You squint to make out the round numbers. 5:52 . Fuck. You’d been asleep for hours .

“Babe!” You call out. “Why’d you let me sleep this long?” No answer. “ Bradley .”

Still nothing. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. The baby monitor wasn’t picking anything up either. Your heart twinges painfully in your chest, stomach turning with the thick ice of dread.

You tap your phone screen again, looking for a message or a missed call. Any kind of clue as to where Bradley had disappeared off to. There’s a text waiting for you, must’ve missed it in your initial alarm. You scan it quickly and breathe out a sigh of relief.

Almost out of diapers. Went to the store with Nicky. Don’t freak out. Love you honey.

Panic now abated, you drop the phone back onto your chest. You should probably get up and do something, anything . There was no shortage of chores to do around the house. Laundry to fold. Dishes to wash. You were due for a pumping session too. But try as you might, and admittedly you don’t try very hard, you can’t bring yourself to disturb the peace. So you stay on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep.

You must have fallen asleep again, because sometime later you’re startled awake by the click of the front door.

“Bradley?” you mumble, rubbing the heel of your hands into your eyes.

“Hey, honey.” He kicks the door shut behind him. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” You stretch. “Freaked me out a little when I woke up and you guys were gone.”

Bradley kisses your forehead and flicks a lamp on. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to, but I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

You draw in a sharp breath when you see him. He’s looking sinful in a pair of jeans and a dark blue Henley. A backwards baseball cap rests atop his unruly hair. Your eyes flit over his body, head to toe. He prattles on about his errand, completely unaware of the fact that you’re currently undressing him with your eyes.

Somehow, at this moment, he’s the hottest he’s ever been.

“Got more diapers. They’re in the car. I wanted to bring Nicky in first and get him settled. He fell asleep on the drive back. He got a compliment from the lady at the register. Honestly I think all this attention is starting to go to his head. Can’t help that he’s so cute though, he got it from you. I also got more onesies, cuz I saw them in Target and couldn’t help it. Oh and those peanut butter cups that you like from Trader Joes, and…” He trails off, catching you staring. “What?”

“Babe,” you mumble, still in your lust-fueled trance.

“Yeah?” Bradley’s eyebrows knit together.

“C’mere.”

He sets Nicky’s carseat down gently. “You’re looking at me weird. Did I do something wrong?” He asks, moving over to you slowly.

You shake your head. “You let me take a nap, and you went to get diapers without me asking you to.”

“Uh huh. So?” He looks down at you, lips pursed. “I still don’t understand why you’re looking at me like that.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you grab the waistband of his jeans and pull him towards you.

“Whoa, baby.” Bradley stumbles forward. His hand covers your fumbling ones. “What are you doing?”

Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “What does it look like I’m doing?” You undo his belt and pop the button of his jeans.

“I mean it looks like you’re about to–” his gaze flits to where Nicky rests still fast asleep in his carseat. “Suck my dick,” his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Wait, right here? Shouldn’t we move–”

There was definitely logic in his words, but it didn’t really register at the moment. The only thing on your mind was him . Emerald tinted lenses colored your world. Greed plain and simple. For the taste of him. For the weight of him on your tongue. For the sound of his throaty groans to fill the air.

“Bradley,” you whisper, lips following the trail of dark hair down his stomach to where it disappears into his elastic waistband.

Your husband swallows thickly. “Yeah, honey?”

You free his cock from his boxers. “Stop talking.”

“But, sweetheart– oh fuck .” Bradley runs a hand over his face.

“Let me return the favor.” You shush him.

“You don’t have to do–” Bradley chokes as you swipe your tongue over his hip bone. “ Shit . Okay, yeah.”

You spit into your palm and stroke him slowly. He’s halfway there, but getting harder with each languid flick of your wrist. You sink your teeth into his thigh and he groans throatily. The noise settles deep into your stomach, pulsing against your clit.

You missed this. The heady paradox of being on your knees, yet having Bradley completely at your mercy. Making him feel good. Pulling him apart piece by piece.

You mouth at the base of his cock, tongue laving at the underside of it. Bradley rests a hand at the nape of your neck. There’s no force behind the gesture, it’s more like he’s anchoring himself than pushing you further onto him.

“Fuck, baby.” His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw slack, and lips slightly parted. “ Christ. ” He rocks his hips forward into your hand.

A wordless plea. You know what he’s asking for. Your mouth slides up his shaft slowly, and you swirl your tongue around the head, still pushing, still teasing. It’s only when Bradley moans brokenly that you decide to have mercy on him.

Your lips part, and you swallow him down slowly. His head tilts forward and he lets out a breathless whisper of your name that has you squeezing your thighs together as your clit throbs.

Bradley’s a perfect picture of debauchery above you. Shoulders drooped and leaning over you slightly. His face is flushed, eyebrows screwed together. The veins on his neck and arm bulge prominently. His grip on your neck tightens, and he gently guides you forward.

You take as much as you can handle, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. Your jaw aches from the lack of practice. But it’s worth every bit of discomfort to hear the moans and praises he levels your way.

“Your mouth feels so goddamn good, honey,” he whispers, when his cock hits the back of your throat. “Just like that, baby. Such a good girl. You’re doing so good. Keeping going, sweetheart.”

Your hand drifts downward of its own accord, and dips into the waistband of your leggings. You rub insistent circles into your clit to relieve the ache. It’s been so long, you think you could come from this alone.

“Look at you getting off,” he says, hazel eyes blazing into your own. “Wish you could see how pretty you look with my dick in your mouth, baby,” he mumbles, lazily thrusting forward.

Bradley cups your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheek where he can feel his cock moving. He rolls his hips forward again, biting his bottom lip as he watches your lips stretch to accommodate him.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing your hair out of your face so he can see you better. “Taking me so well. Gonna make me come.”

You moan, and Bradley chuckles.

“That what you want? Want me to come down your throat?”

You blink up at him, pleading with watery eyes. You wanted it more than anything.

“Yeah? Gonna swallow every drop, like a good girl?” The thought sends a shudder down his spine. “My good girl. Won’t last long with you looking at me like that.”

That’s the plan .

You move the hand on his thigh around to gently squeeze his balls, and Bradley thrusts forward sharply.

“ Shit –sorry, baby.” His thumb brushes at the newly shed tears that track down your face. “You okay?” The fire in his eyes dies slightly as he searches your gaze for any sign of pain or reluctance to continue.

Instead the only thing he finds there is hunger and greed.

This time when you squeeze, you’re ready for his reaction. You take his next roll of his hips easily. And the next, and the next. Letting Bradley gently fuck your face. He was close, you could tell by the slur of his words, the inconsistent buck of his hips.

“Goddammit,” Bradley says through gritted teeth. His fingers snag into your hair, tugging at the nape. “Gonna fucking kill me, honey.” His chest heaves with shallow breaths. “‘M gonna come, sweetheart. You ready for me?”

Please, oh please . Your thoughts chant, words blurring into a slurry. You hope your eyes convey the desperation you feel.

Bradley’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He bites his pointer finger, trying to muffle the shameless groan he lets out as he unravels.

You take all he gives, and he gives you so much. His cum coats your throat, and you swallow as much as you can, but you have to pull away for air. The last dribbles of his cum paint your lower lip and drip down your chin. You tilt your head back and stick your tongue out to show off your empty mouth.

Bradley stares at you, eyes crossed and unfocused. He pushes his hat off and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “Fuck, baby.”

He swipes at your lip, smearing the cum and spit into your skin. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You smirk.

“All innocent and shit.” Bradley pushes his ring finger into your mouth. “I’ll fuck you right here.”

You clean the digit off with your tongue and pull away with a pop . “You promise?” You arc an eyebrow up.

“Fuck.” He leans down and gives you a kiss that leaves your toes curling. “Give me five minutes to put Nicky in bed, and I’ll be right back.” He whispers.

You lean back and peel your shirt from your body. “ Tick tock .”

Bradley bites his bottom lip, eyes sliding hungrily over your body. “Don’t go anywhere.” He points a stern finger at you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you chuckle. “Hurry up so you can fuck me.”

He grabs the carseat, and still manages to be gentle despite his obvious excitement. “Five minutes, baby, I promise.”

Bradley’s never one to break a promise.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #tgm #miles teller #lets try this again #rion writes

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mysweetsinfulobsessions · 2 years

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Fletcher in Becky's so hot

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dykes4putty · 3 months

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#moral orel #suggestive /#LETS TRY THIS AGAIN

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ariluna91 · 1 year

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💜💜💜💜💜💜🥵🥵

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creepycoffins · 4 months

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Vash knowing how good he looks in a lil bit of leather for @orcelito 's new fic I know I'm gonna die of this, go read and enjoy their phenomenal t4t vashwood!! Also have a spicier version (🔞!!) while I'm at it

#trigun #my art #vash the stampede #vashwood #cw slightly suggestive #LETS TRY THIS AGAIN #GO READ NICOS FIC GRRR it was such a privilege working with them and lending partial inspiration chdjdhfbdhsb

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cephalonheadquarters · 5 months

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#LEts try this again #Sorry i had to recolor melos arms i did it wrong the first time #splatoon #splatoon oc #oc #chamelo fláje #asker scalefin #diesel fintasma #my art #animation

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livelovecaliforniadreams · 10 months

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#lets try this again #benvi #ben x devi #devi x ben #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #maitreyi ramakrishnan #Jaren Lewison #my heart #love #4x10 #never have i ever #nhie #gif #gifs #gifset

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unstablecryptid · 1 year

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Jon Bernthal in Sharp Stick

#jon bernthal #my gifs #sharp stick #movie gifs #lets try this again

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shoyoist · 2 years

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content: fem bodied reader. dry humping. semi public sex (in a public restroom). he's very vocal, he cums in his pants. a lil begging, cunnilingus mentioned. specially dedicated to this anon!

— . ｡˚ ♡ bachira gets needy during the most inconvenient times.

god, bachira who pulls you into the nearest restroom when you're out in public with him, because you're looking so cute in your new outfit that he cant help the urge to take you right here, right now— you tell him, "meguru, we shouldnt be doing this—"

he cuts you off with a bright smile, eyes glittering as he pulls you close, back flush against his chest, the fabric of your clothes rustling together as he whispers in your ear, "'s okay, baby. let me just grind on your ass a little, m'kay? i'll be done in no time."

"meguru," you protest, and he presses a hand against your lower stomach to stop you from moving away, his other hand going to cup the heat pooling between your legs. "come on, baby, i'll be good." he coos, "you look so cute today — what else do you expect from me, when you're lookin' like this?"

and of course, you can't really deny him. bachira always does as he wants.

you grip onto whatever steady surface you can, as he starts rutting his clothed cock against you, hard against the curve of your ass, and you feel your skirt get pushed up as he grinds up and down on you— "fuck, feels s'good," he tells you, out loud, and you shiver at the thought of someone hearing him. "meguru, please—"

"shhh," he whispers, kissing the side of your neck, breath hot against your skin. "'m close already, you'll help me clean up when i cum, right?"

you try to shoot him a dirty look, but his eyes have gone hazy and lusty, you see when you meet them with your own gaze — and god, he looks pretty, so infatuated by you — and despite your protests, you grind back on him, moving your ass up and down in time with his movements, feeling his grip on your body get tighter and his weight on you get heavier as he gets closer to his high.

his fingers still rest around your core, and you decide to indulge, moving forward slightly and rubbing yourself up the arch of his palm, and he giggles, bringing his movements to a stop. letting go, he grips you by your chin instead, turning you to face him. "look at you now. not even a minute, and you wanna do this more than i do."

"shut up," you mumble, taking hold of him by his belt, dragging him back to you, and he grabs your waist, pulls you onto him again.

he kisses you, tongue out, as he starts grinding — and you follow, rhythmically moving your body on his, leaning back on the restroom's walls for support (thank fucking god this place was clean).

"shit, so beautiful, so good," he sings into your mouth, rutting into you faster, and you're only a little concerned about how you're going to hide or clean whatever stains might end up soiling your clothes— "wanna cum, baby, g'nna cum!"

"go ahead," you stutter, "hurry up, meguru — we have places to be."

and of course, bachira does as he wants.

he cums in his pants, a string of moans leaving his pretty mouth as he tries to go even faster, gasping out your name — and you moan in return, taking his face in your hands as he pulls you even closer by your waist, kissing him as he makes a mess of himself, just by humping you, clothes all on and everything. "good boy."

now though, you'll have to try and stop him from propping you up against the nearest level surface and eating you out till you make a mess all over his face.

#LETS TRY THIS AGAIN #blue lock smut #bachira smut #blue lock x reader #bachira x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru smut #☆༉ rekha™#☆༉ ferveloqui.

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