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sunlightmurdock · 5 months

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Blow By Blow | 1.4 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, smut, really brief oral (f), trauma for both parties

…

You yawn into the sleeve of your sweater, rolling your shoulders back and pursing your lips slightly as you scroll through the local events page. One of the issues that Bradshaw’s faces, is that not many people seem to take notice of what it is. It’s been here for thirty years, and most of the neighbours just assume that there’s trouble inside and walk on by.

It’s hard to blame them, when you hear stories of what the place used to be like. Of what Bradley used to be like.

But downtown isn’t what it used to be, there’s a big community here now, and it would do wonders for the gym to be involved in that.

Maverick’s office smells like cigarettes, even though he gave up smoking ten years ago. There’s a lamp on each of the two desks that illuminates the room in an aged, amber glow. It’s completely quiet, and has been since the gym shut an hour ago.

Jake glances up at you from over by Maverick’s desk. “I heard a rumour about you, you know.”

You lift your chin to look at him. Your cheeks grow warm at the cocky smirk on his face as he leans back in his chair and tucks his hands behind his head, flipping the toothpick in his mouth.

“I heard a rumour about you too.” You answer back quietly, a smile creeping its way onto your lips. Jake chuckles, his cheeks dimpling across the room.

“You and the big guy, huh?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you, giving an amused shake of his head as he stretches his legs out under the desk. Paperwork is the most boring part of his job, gossiping with you helps the time pass along.

“You and Natasha.” You answer back, smiling softly at him before you turn your gaze back to the computer.

“Well, what can I say? — She can’t get enough of me. But who can blame her?” He shrugs. You snort at him, shaking your head. You both know she would hit him in the nuts if she heard him say that. “Who can blame you, either. Rooster’s a good looking guy. And he’s hung like a horse.”

“Jake!” You splutter, eyes going wide, face burning as you gawk at him across the office. This time, he really laughs, beaming at how easy you are to fluster.

He sits back in his chair and cocks his head at you, like he’s trying to piece together the complex little puzzle that you are.

“I’m just playing,” He smiles across at you. It’s strange, sitting here and having this vulgar of a conversation with Jake, and wanting to smile back at him anyway. “Is he being nice to you or do I have to say something to him?”

Your mouth twitches. He almost gets you to crack a smile at him. Instead, you twist your mouth into a stern but amused smile.

“He’s alright when he wants to be,” You answer him, earning another soft chuckle from the gym manager. “How’s… Natasha?”

Jake presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and exhales, that smile still toying at his lips. “Alright. When she wants to be.”

You huff out a soft sound of amusement and turn your attention back to your work. Jake really doesn’t want to go back to his.

“Look, kid,” He swallows as he sits forwards and suddenly that smile is gone, his lips pressing into a line. “I’m happy for you. I am. And, call me selfish, but I like having you around here. I don’t want anything to ruin this place for you.”

Your nails tap away at the keyboard as you draft the email. “Anything… being Rooster, right?”

“He’s a big softie, I’m sure. But he’s a complicated guy.”

That seems to be everyone’s opinion of him. You know that it’s true. You’ve seen the scars that litter his body. You know that he’s afraid of being alone — his apartment has sat empty for most of his tenancy. It’s just that when he’s up close, and he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his lips and those endlessly deep big brown eyes; nothing really seems complicated at all.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to freak you out,” Jake shakes his head and scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck. Two little sisters and he still hasn’t figured out how to approach this conversation. “I just want you to be able to… talk to me, I guess.”

“I understand,” You nod softly, hitting send on the email and lifting your head to look at him. He tries at a smile. “Thanks, Jake.”

“Anytime, kiddo.” He shoots you a playful wink and tucks his chair into the desk, sitting upright as he starts to reason with the idea of actually finishing his paperwork so that he can head home at a reasonable time tonight.

“Alright, I’m gonna head in for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.” Jake confirms with a tired smile as you close your laptop and push up from the desk. You each separate with soft goodbyes, and you carry your laptop upstairs to your apartment.

Just as you’re expecting, the lights are already on and there’s a football game playing on your TV. What you’re not expecting, though, is to see Tank and Rooster’s heads pop up from over the back of the couch together.

“Hey, Bam— oof—“ Rooster grunts as the dog suddenly pushes to his feet, pressing all of his weight into his ribs and hopping down onto the ground before walking around the couch to greet you with a wagging tail.

“Hi, boys,” You smile, crouching down to kiss Tank’s nose and scratch and his shoulders, babying the sixty pound animal like he deserves to be. “Was he laying on you just then?”

“Yeah. I laid down with a beer and he wanted to join me, I guess.” Rooster informs you as you set your things down by the door and walk over to the couch, leaning on the back. He smiles up at you, one arm tucked behind his head.

You grin at him, pushing yourself over the back of the couch and down against his body, your thighs straddling his hips.

“I can��t believe you’re both finally getting along.” You tell him, leaning forwards and planting a soft kiss to his mouth. Rooster’s hand trails along your back, sipping slightly under your sweater.

“He’s not so bad,” Rooster shrugs his shoulders, lifting his head and chasing your lips as you sit up against him. You push your open palms along his bare shirt, wondering silently to yourself how he can manage to be so warm all the time. “You get all your work done?”

Your lips twist up into a smile. “Uh-huh.”

His brows draw together as he leans out and sets the beer on the coffee table so that he can grab at your hips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Signed you guys up for a couple of local charity events over the next few weeks. Think it’ll be good press for the gym.” You explain, trailing your fingertips along the lines in his toned torso.

“What kind of events?”

“I’m gonna tell everyone on Monday. Wouldn’t be fair if you got the down low before everyone else.” You could tell him, really, but you’re in a good mood and it’s fun to tease him. He chuckles softly and considers arguing, squeezing his hands around the soft flesh of your waist.

His lashes brush his cheek as he blinks, bringing you securely with him as he shifts his hips.

“Will you promise me something before your fight tomorrow?” You ask him, leaning forwards and bracing your palms against his shoulders. He smiles softly.

It’s been playing on his mind recently, when he holds you tight in his arms at night. Whether or not this life he wants, and the past you’ve faced, are compatible in the slightest.

He knows how timid you get. The way your muscles go rigid at a raised voice, and the devastating way your eyes go wide when he gets too close too quickly.

“Sure.” He tells you, rubbing his thumbs in soft circles over the waistband of your skirt.

“Try not to mess this pretty face up too much. Pretty please.” You lean down over him, slowly, and press a soft kiss to the bump in his nose from a bad break years ago. Rooster watches as you sit back up again.

Your hair is loose and strands fall forwards, adorning your face. Attempting to hide that sheepish little smile from him.

He hasn’t been called pretty ever. Jake’s pretty. Movie-star smile and blonde hair, an angled jaw and stroking green eyes. Bradley was always too tall, and too skinny, until he wasn’t skinny anymore. He’s got scars on his face, all the way down his body. His lips aren’t quite even. His eyes are dark and angry looking. He’s not pretty.

“You’re the pretty one, Bambi,” He tells her with a firm shake of his head. He wets his lips with his tongue. “You don’t need to be worrying about my busted face.”

“Busted?” You scoff at him.

“Come on…” He groans, checks flushing red as he turns his head back towards the television. He can always feel it when something gets him blushing, and he hates nothing more. He knows how dark and angry his scars look when his skin flushed red.

“Bradley,” You frown at him, placing two fingers against his cheek and turning his head back towards you. A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I think you’re really pretty.”

“Get real, kid.” He huffs, sitting up and hooking an arm around you, tucking his hand under your ass. He stands swiftly, taking you with him with an impressive ease.

“Hey! Where are we going? — I’m not done complimenting you.” You secure your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, frowning as Bradley carries you forwards.

“I need to take a shower.” He tells you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple and planting your ass on the kitchen island. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist.

“… Um… By yourself?”

“Sorry, Bambi,” Rooster gives a heavy shrug of his wide shoulders, grabbing your ankles and unwrapping them from his waist, leaving you with a chaste kiss on the lips. “No sex before the big fight.”

Behind him, your mouth hangs open.

“Are you serious?”

His lips quirk softly as he pulls at the drawstring tie on his shorts, turning his head to look at you over his shoulders. “Unfortunately. It’s tried and tested. I fight better if I’m a little… frustrated.”

You just hum in response, watching him close the bathroom door behind him. As the door clicks shut, the idea drops into your mind. You get Tank his dinner, and head for the bedroom with a smile on your face.

Bradley secures the towel around his waist, stepping out of the shower with his hips decorated with fluffy white and pink pinstripe. He whistles the tune to Together in Electric Dreams as he combs his fingers through his damp curls and walks through to the bedroom he has spent more nights in than his own recently.

Then, he stops in the doorway. He glances back over his shoulder at Tank sitting on the couch, then back to you. Your brows drawn together, lips parted just slightly, your chest heaving.

“Bambi.”

Your eyes blink open, not so much as a whisper of surprise in either of your irises. Your lips twitch just slightly.

“Are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes squeeze shut again, purely because if you look at him for another second then you’re going to chicken out. “Don’t worry. I’m almost there.”

“But… I told you. I can’t — the fight.” Bradley stumbles over his words, reaching down and brushing the base of his palm over the stiffening tent under the towel. The sheets barely cover your waist, he can picture your exactly the way your legs are trembling right now.

Bradley swallows softly as you let out a contented sigh.

“You’re right. You can’t,” You tell him, trying to keep the smile off of your face as your fingers circle your clit. “Sorry. I thought I would be done before you finished your shower.”

That’s not true in the slightest. He knows you wanted him to find you, and he wishes he had a little more self-control. He’s already walking forwards, grabbing the covers and tearing them back.

You giggle as he drops his weight down on top of you, grabbing firmly at your hips and pulling you against him.

“Want some help?” He murmurs against your throat, sucking firmly at the sensitive skin there, knowing how it makes your brain just turn to mush.

“Yes, please.” You grin, reaching down between you, tugging swiftly at the towel wrapped around his hips and discarding it onto those chipped wood floors in this ancient apartment. Bradley grazes his teeth over your collarbone and shakes his head.

“No, no — I’m serious, until tomorrow, I’ve taken a vow of abstinence,” Bradley informs you calmly, rolling onto his back and grabbing roughly at your hips. “Now come here. Put this pretty face to use, huh?”

Your mouth drops open, eyes widening as he manhandles you over his chest and grabs two firm handfuls of your ass to drag you forwards.

“Rooster, wai— oh.” You hiccup, hands swinging forwards for purchase, just about catching on the squeaky metal frame of the bed. He buries his face between your legs, the freshly groomed hair on his upper lip, tickling the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. “Oh, wow.”

His lips twitch. The way his smirk feels against your throbbing clit is something that will be etched into your mind for years to come. He lifts his hand and swats at your ass, groaning against you as the soft flesh ripples in his hand.

As much as he enjoys this, he had to get you back at least a little for trying to tease him. All it does, surprisingly, is spur you on. You gasp out, moaning as your grip tightens around the bed frame.

His heavy hands hold you in place, keeping you firmly against him, just about giving you the freedom to move back and forth. He moans happily against your sensitive flesh as you grind yourself onto his mouth.

It doesn’t take long. Literally minutes of his deep sounds, his big hands and his oh, so talented tongue. You cum hard, practically losing your balance, soaking his chin as he holds you upright. Then, he swiftly rolls you off of him and plants you on your back.

You fight to catch your breath as Bradley pulls you back against him and wraps his arms securely around you. His erection presses into the skin of your ass, grazing briefly against some of the excitement that has spilled out onto your thighs.

“Tomorrow night, you’re all fucking mine. Got that?” He whispers, smiling against your earlobe. You press back into his chest, humming contentedly.

Tomorrow night rolls around quickly. But, you’re far from being naked, and far from being in your bed with Bradley cursing in your ear like you would like to be. Instead, you’re picking awkwardly at your cuticles and following Phoenix through a crowded warehouse. Event space. Whatever they want to call it.

It makes your skin prickle to know that Bradley could be leaving this room bloodied and bruised. You should be excited for him. You’ve seen him training. You know how badly he wants this. More importantly, you know what it will mean for his career if it goes badly.

Heel-toe, heel-toe — you focus on whatever your mind can grab at as you march through the buzzing crowd between Natasha and Jake. It’s not enough. Your heart is thudding and your stomach feels funny. You start to wonder if you’ll ever feel comfortable in a place like this.

You lift your head and examine the ring. The ropes are taut and the canvas looks much cleaner than the surface back at Bradshaw’s. You bite awkwardly at the inside of your cheek as someone catches your eye on the other side of the ring. She’s watching Natasha. Tall, and blonde, with piercing blue eyes. Staring like she has seen a ghost.

“You okay?” Phoenix taps your waist softly with her elbow, her smile fading as she studies the expression on your face. It’s not one that she has seen on you before. She can’t quite place it.

“Is that her?” You ask quietly, your voice almost getting lost in the sea of much louder conversations. Natasha turns her head and looks around the crowd, trying to figure out who it is that you’re staring at. Finally, she locks eyes on the woman on the other side of the ring.

There’s a puckered scar across the right side of her face. A burn, maybe. Natasha knows that it’s a third degree that required a skin graft. Even so, she’s beautiful. Tall, with neatly styled finger curls, and high cheekbones. Natasha knows that face well. Still, Bradley wouldn’t want you to know that.

“Is that who?” Natasha tries.

“Emilia.” You answer instantly, and her eyes widen.

Her brows draw together as she stops walking, rounding on you with a stern expression. Jake almost bumps into your back, looking confusedly between the two of you. Natasha frowns deeply, “Bradley told you about Emilia?”

“Mav did.” You answer her sheepishly.

“Oh.” Natasha closes her eyes for a minute and thanks whatever divine power kept Bradley in that locker room so that he didn’t hear this conversation. “Bambi, that’s — that wasn’t his place. He shouldn’t have done that. There’s a lot that Mav doesn’t understand.”

“What more is there to understand? — She’s a monster.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Natasha couldn’t disagree with you if she wanted to. She can’t pretend she hadn’t felt pleased when the news started to spread that Emilia had been in that fire. “But Mav doesn’t know the truth. He knows what the police told him.”

“What more is there to know?” You frown at her. Jake shifts uncomfortably behind you, adjusting the top button of his shirt. Natasha grits her teeth.

“I can’t tell you.”

You turn your head to gawk at Jake, then look back to her. “Bradley wouldn’t tell me if I asked him.”

“Don’t ask him. It’s better if you don’t know.” Natasha’s voice is firmer than it has ever been with you. She’s serious, and suddenly cold. She cares for you, enough to be mean when it’ll keep you from getting hurt.

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