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#rooster bradshaw au
bradshawssugarbaby · 28 days
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Angel In the Infield - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.
A/N: While I'm currently struggling with motivation to work on on Take One for the Team, please instead enjoy this baseball au fic I've done in the meantime! Also I started reading sports romance novels, pls send help half these men are baseball players with dark hair. Also if you like this concept/set up, I'm toying with the idea of making this a series of connected oneshots?
pairing: baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader
warnings/content: baseball au, smut throughout, oral (both m + f receiving), praise, dirty talk, mentions of divorce, unfaithfulness (neither Bradley, nor reader), public sex.
word count: 3.7k
taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted
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The sun hung high on the horizon for a Saturday afternoon, radiating an unseasonable warmth as its rays beat down over the course. A gentle breeze made its way through the palm trees that stood tall outside of the stadium, causing large, deep green leaves to sway in its wake. A crowd of spectators sat on the bleachers that surrounded the diamond, a sea of faces filling the scenery, silently watching, sipping beers and eating hotdogs as they took in the spectacle before them. Media representatives dotted the balcony, press passes on display as they gawked at the game unfolding below. 
Bradley Bradshaw approached the plate, lining up to take his turn at bat. His bright white uniformed baseball shirt, emblazoned with the team logo across the front, his last name in bold, block lettering across the back of his broad shoulders, hugged at his sun kissed biceps as they flexed. One of his tattoos just barely visible from under the sleeve of the shirt.
 He took two practice swings, and once he was comfortable, lined up with the plate. He narrowed his eyes in focus as he looked to the pitcher, giving him the coldest stare down he could muster, his face fixed in a state of concentration. A year and a half ago, he would have begun trash-talking his opponent from the start, calling out that he’d seen his grandmother lob better pitches, and she’d been dead for 15 years. Instead, Bradley forced himself to behave, willing any inappropriate comments about Jake Seresin’s mother to himself, for now. 
He took a swing at the first pitch lobbed towards him with a loud grunt, biting his tongue as he held back a frustrated fuck from his lips as the ball sailed past him, landing in the catcher’s mitt with a thud. 
Strike one.
He caught your gaze in the sea of faces that were watching him expectantly, his lips curling up into a soft smile as he looked towards the family and friends boxes where you stood, waving subtly to him to gain his attention. He gave you a subtle nod of his head, symbolic of a thank you, for Bradley. 
In an instant, Bradley was back in the game, level-headed and laser focused, ready for the next pitch that was coming, as if seeing you had brought him back down to earth, willing him to focus his attention on something other than his once uncontrollable anger. 
He wasn’t often this soft. He never used to be. In fact, he was never considered to be a gentleman when he played any sport. He couldn’t lose graciously. It wasn’t in his nature. He was serious, determined and reserved, focused and dedicated, but even his best intended plans couldn’t withstand his explosive temper. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a walking stick of dynamite. 
He didn’t intend to fly off the handle at everyone around if he made a bad play or if someone commented on his skills not being on point the way they once were, but after nothing but criticism for the last four years of his career, Bradley thought his outbursts were justifiable. 
If he had to hear another comment about being “washed up” at thirty-one, he might snap again, unable to bite his tongue much longer. And if he had a bat in hand? He’d show whoever it was just how good his game still was. He knew his career didn’t have many years left in it, but he had just as much right as any other up and coming young asshole in the MLB to be here. But one bad year at twenty-seven had turned into two, which turned into three, which now crept up on reaching four. 
Admittedly, this year was turning out to be marginally better than the three previous - he didn’t know what to chalk it up to at first. 
Herefused to admit he could be in love. Love was never for him. At least, that’s what his ex-wife told him when she filed for divorce four years prior. He’d just been starting to make a name for himself as a promising first baseman when she served him the papers, leaving him with a burning desire to focus everything he had on the one thing that he thought couldn’t break him - baseball. That desperate need to be good at something, anything, drove him to the brink of insanity. He couldn’t control himself or his need to be the best in the only area he knew he could be anymore. 
However, that train of thought came to a screeching, grinding halt when he met you. 
As Bradley remained focused on his turn at bat, he took a swing at the second pitch sent his way, a fastball that, if he was a smart man, he would have let go, taking the ball instead of risking a strike at a pitch that far outside.
However, Bradley was not a smart man. Not when it came to his turns at bat.
Even he couldn’t hide his momentary shock as the ball made contact with the wooden bat in his hands with a crack. He started running towards first base, rounding it quickly before making the smarter decision to stay put, rather than aim for second. He looked towards where you were watching him from once again, smiling to himself as he watched you blow a kiss towards him. He couldn’t wait to finish this game and just hold you and kiss you. Watch you walk around the house with nothing but his baseball jersey on, just barely long enough on you to cover your private areas, giving him a little sneak peek as you bent over to unload the dishwasher, or reached up to grab a wine glass for yourself when you were ready to unwind for the evening. 
Those delicious thighs, soft and smooth as he ran his hands up and down them, the way you’d giggle and kick your legs playfully when he grasped at the back of them, even though he knew you were ticklish there. He didn’t give a rat’s ass though. He loved the way you laughed. He swore it was up there on the list of the most beautiful sounds in the world, along with the way you said his name right before you reached your orgasm, the way you’d call him ‘honey’ in passing and the sound of a World Series crowd chanting your number. 
Images of his hands lifting the back of that jersey up, shoving the excess material at the bottom out of his way as he pounded into you from behind flashed across his mind, the sounds of you whining out in pleasure as he relentlessly fucked into you, your pretty, pink folds glistening with arousal, letting him slide in and out of you with ease. The thought alone was almost enough to make him curse the athletic cup that was sitting in his baseball pants at the moment, making it increasingly uncomfortable to move as he felt himself hardening at the thought of you. 
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to take you in the hotel room later. 
As he rounded the bases to home after his teammate’s home run hit, his mind drifted to the thought of your teeth sinking into the tanned, taut skin of his shoulder as he made love to you in the California King Bed that awaited you both in the hotel suite after the game. Your fingers gripping his dark curly hair tightly, tangling into them and tugging as he licked and sucked on your neck, leaving a trail of purpling bite marks down you as he marked you as his own. Not that you protested - in fact, you encouraged it. 
As the game progressed, Bradley continued to think about the various ways he could make you his as soon as he got you alone. His mind raced as he thought of you again - in every way possible. He thought about your perfume, how it had some kind of hypnotic hold over him, leaving him momentarily dazed whenever he breathed in your scent. He thought about your smile, how you lit up the entire room when you beamed at him - how you were one of the only people to ever look at him like he meant everything in the world to you, and how you made him feel special and loved and wanted, for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the way you made him feel. 
 His ex-wife had been cold and cut-off from him emotionally, physically. She was never satisfied just being with him. She resented that he couldn’t put all of his attention on her, 100% of the time, despite Bradley feeling like he tried his best to balance his career and home life as best as he could. When she had told him she was ready to have a baby, he’d been entirely on board - ready and willing to start a family. What he wasn’t prepared for, was walking in on her sleeping with a rookie from a rival team in the hotel room that Bradley had paid for. 
As he packed up his gear after the game, his team pulling ahead with a win thanks to a home run hit he scored in the 8th inning that shocked even him, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He had proved himself for another day, and he was proud of himself for it. He figured at this rate, if he kept it up, he could be discussing his comeback season with the press after another couple of games. The thought of being respected once again in the sport was electrifying, enough to send a shockwave pulsating through his veins as he switched out of his cleats and into his street shoes. 
He headed out of the locker room, his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and his cap turned backwards, with tufts of dark chestnut brown curls peaking out through the opening. He spotted you, wearing one of his spare jerseys unbuttoned with a short little black dress on underneath, with a pair of stark white running shoes. Your matching baseball cap was sported backwards, just like Bradley’s, a style he started adopting on your advice. You’d flipped his cap around one day during a playful round of sex in the backseat of his vintage Ford Bronco, telling him it looked so much hotter on him when he wore it so that you could still see his face. He took that advice to heart, and now, every chance he could, backwards is how it was. 
You happily skipped over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely as you peppered his lips with feather-light kisses. He laughed softly and shook his head when you finally pulled away, his cheeks burning into a rosy red tone as a slight wave of embarrassment washed over him. 
It wasn’t your kisses or affection that embarrassed him though. It was the fact that after 18 months of dating, he still wasn’t used to it. It was partially his own fault — his ex-wife had never been an affectionate lover, but even after that, he refused to actually be in a relationship with anyone. He enjoyed sex, and that was all he wanted. He wasn’t looking for his heart to be broken again, and it suited him just fine until you came along. 
He’d met you once in passing — he’d gotten himself embroiled in a bar brawl with some guy who’s mouth ran faster than the speed of light. Bradley’s nose had been broken and bloodied as a result, and you’d been leaving the bar with a handful of friends. You’d recognized Bradley as the guy who’d hit on you earlier in the night, and to your surprise, graciously accepted your rejection when you turned him down. When you saw him in this light though, drunk and vulnerable, you felt sorry for him. 
Taking a couple of tissues from your purse, you helped clean up his face as best as you could, sending your friends on their way without you as you took on this newfound role of nurse to him. With few other options to stop his nosebleed, you’d handed him a tampon from your purse. He laughed initially, in complete and total refusal to use it. You had gestured to his floral print white polo shirt, the collar now stained with drips of blood from his face. He huffed a sigh and followed your advice, grumbling as you insisted on making awkward small talk as you sat and waited with him to get checked out. 
That was the first time since his mother’s passing that anyone had ever shown Bradley an ounce of compassion when he was injured. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not , but he could have sworn you were an angel with the way you smiled at him and how soothing he found your voice. 
Now, eighteen months later, standing here with your arms wrapped around him, his hands on your waist as you fussed over him and congratulated him on his performance in this afternoon’s game, he was sure. You were heaven sent.. In fact, it was what he called you — angel. He’d decided early on it was the perfect nickname for you, and as time went on, he only proved himself right. 
“Everyone’s left, right?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow at him as he snapped back to reality, shooting a quick glance behind his shoulder.
“Mhmm. I was the last one out of the showers. Looks like it’s just us left here.”
“Perfect. I have a little something for you.”
“Do you?” He inquired, eyebrows raised as he smirked, a million ideas running through his head at what his surprise could be. 
Together, you walked back towards the now deserted dugout, the ballpark that was roaring with excitement an hour ago was now silent, deserted by players and fans alike. You grinned as you turned around to face Bradley, dropping down to your knees in front of him, gazing up at him with a doe-eyed stare that was almost enough to make him groan out in pleasure.
“Wh-you mean, this is my surprise? You’re gonna suck my dick in the dugout, angel?”
“I know you’ve always wanted me to. And you played so good today, honey. How could I say no?” You purred as you undid the belt holding his pants in place. 
He dropped his baseball pants down to his ankles, and before his hands could remove the tight fitting boxer briefs he’d changed into post-game, your mouth was pressed against the tightening bulge, pressing warm kisses to it in a way that made Bradley’s mind foggy. He couldn’t think straight and he wasn’t even in your mouth yet. 
Fuck.
He knew he wouldn’t last long if this was how worked up he was feeling at your mouth touching him. As you tugged his boxers down, peeling them off his thighs to free his cock. A white bead of pre-cum pearled on his tip, leading Bradley to elicit a pornographic moan as your thumb swiped across it, whisking the liquid away before you began pumping your hand up and down his shaft. You tauntingly flicked your tongue out over the tip of his erection, encircling the red, throbbing head with a trail of saliva before licking a strip along the underside to his balls. Bradley shuddered as he felt you continue to lick up and down his length, your hand pumping him tightly when you alternated and pressed your lips to the tip. 
After what felt to Bradley like an eternity, you took his tip past your parted lips, hollowing your cheeks as you began to suck on his cock like it was some kind of refreshing summer treat. As you took him further back in your mouth, your saliva began to pool around his shaft, dribbling out down his length as you tried to take more of him into you. He grunted your name as he gathered your hair in his hand, gripping tightly as he thrusted his hips forward into your mouth. 
You gagged as you felt his tip brush the back of your throat, causing more of your spit to soak his cock, your hand using it as lubrication as you continued to pump on whatever didn’t fit past your lips. Bradley began panting, gasping and singing your praises as he fucked your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered as you shut them for a quick moment to concentrate yourself on your technique until you felt a hand gently squeezing your cheeks, making your mouth seemingly tighten harder around Bradley.
“Nuh, uh, beautiful. Eyes on me,” he directed. 
You gazed up at him with that same doe-eyed stare again, batting your lashes as you watched his facial expression, his eyes shutting as he enjoyed the feel of your mouth as it sucked and licked at his cock, working him into his orgasm.
“Shit, angel, ‘m’not gonna last,” Bradley panted, deep chocolate brown eyes fixated on you as he watched you pull your mouth back from him almost entirely before thrusting yourself fully into him. 
His lids shut again as he drew his head back, saying your name as if it was a hymn he was singing. He let out a deep, throaty grunt as he shot hot, white ropes of his cum down your throat. Your eyes never left his as you swallowed hard, making sure that he could see you as you did it before pulling yourself back off his cock. Pulling yourself to your feet, you wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning proudly at the mess you’d made out of Bradley.
His eyes deepened with a burning, lustful hunger for you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, picking you up off your feet and grinning. 
“I gotta return the favour, now, angel. You know the rules. You wear a pretty little skirt like that, and I just have to eat that pussy of yours.” He said matter-of-factly as he pulled his bottoms back up, chuckling to himself as he tightened his belt back up. “Bet you did it on purpose, didn’t you, honey? Knew I wouldn’t be able to resist eating that perfect little cunt of yours if you wore something like this?”
“I may have been thinking something along those lines,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders as he laid you down on the bench. 
He straddled the bench in front of your legs and tutted his tongue at you, giving you a head shake of disapproval before raising an eyebrow at you.
“Angel, come on, spread those pretty thighs of yours nice and wide for me. Throw your legs over my shoulders if you have to.” 
You obeyed his command, biting down on your lip as you fought back a grin, draping your legs over his broad shoulders as he slipped between them, his mouth hovering just over your folds. He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth. You let out a soft yelp of pleasure, feeling your body writhe at the mere suggestion of Bradley’s mouth down there on you.
“Look at you,” Bradley purred as he spread your folds apart with two thick fingers. “So pretty and wet for me already? Sucking my cock got you all worked up like this?” 
“Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to concentrate your thoughts into a sentence. 
“C’mon, honey, use your words for me. Wanna hear you say it,” Bradley said as he flicked his tongue out, swiping it across your swollen, sensitive clit. 
“Bradley,” you whined as you arched your back at the slow, sensual teasing, “You know exactly why I’m like this already.”
“Mhmm, my perfect angel,” he cooed as he licked at your folds again, gathering your arousal on his tongue. 
As Bradley’s tongue ravaged you, eating you out like a man starved on a desert island for the last few months, your heart began to race, a burning desire brewing in the pit of your stomach. While Bradley’s tongue lapped at your arousal, he delved two thick fingers into your pulsating core, pumping them into your g-spot. You could picture him grinning to himself as he heard your needy, whiny moans, panting his name as if it was the only word you were able to say anymore. That was just how he liked it though - making it so he was the only thing on your mind. He prided himself on it.
Your thighs began to shake as he dug the fingers of his free hand into your flesh, holding you in place. He pulled his mouth away from you for a moment with a loud suck. You whimpered at the loss of contact, looking down at him from beneath hooded lids as he continued to fuck his fingers deeper into you. 
“That’s it, angel. I played my best for you today, wanted to do right, earn this pretty little pussy of yours. Make it mine,” he husked. 
Your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers as he spoke, the words alone enough to send you over the edge. He pressed his lips to your clit once again, giving it a long, tantalizing suck as he drew your orgasm out of you. Instead of his name, this time all you could get out of your mouth was a breathless, blissed out moan, unable to formulate words as your brain fogged. Bradley continued to praise you, coaching you through your climax like a personal trainer coaching you through a workout. 
He drew his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his fingers until they were clean, his wide tongue pressing flat against them before pulling them out of his mouth with a loud pop. You blinked twice at him, still dazed from your orgasm as he pulled your underwear back up your legs. 
“You ok, angel?” Bradley grinned as he tapped your thigh gently with his hand to try and bring you back to reality. Your blissfully fucked out stare was all he needed, a soft smile on your face as you tried to regain your composure. 
“We’re just getting started, baby. I’ve got 48 hours with you before my next game, I’m making each one of those hours count.” 
343 notes · View notes
bloatedandalone04 · 8 months
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If It Makes You Happy - Part 1
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➪the one where you give bradley your heart and he breaks it.
Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, unprotected sex, age gap, 18+, swearing, alcohol consumption, hair pulling, small pain kink ig, jealousy
Word Count: 5.3k | Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“God, you feel so good,” Bradley’s deep voice sent chills down your spine. Your hands trailed up his back and gripped his shoulders as his hips hit yours over and over again. “Fuck, baby.”
His words, mixed with his raspy voice, went right to your core, where you greedily sucked him in deeper.
Bradley groaned loudly, dipping his head down to suck on your collar bone. He wasn’t usually one for hickeys at his age, but he found himself loving to both give them and receive them ever since you and he first started this whole situation.
“Just like that,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut tightly when you felt his lips pepper kisses all over your neck. 
“Like this?” He mutters as he fucked into you, making you see stars behind your closed eyes.
“Yes,”
One of his hands reaches down to wrap your leg around his waist, making him reach even deeper in you. “You like that, baby?” 
“Yes,” you say again, sliding one hand up to tug on his hair. “Please.”
Bradley grunted at your relentless tugging, the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair adding to the overall pressure currently building within him. “Fuck, you’re so hot,”
If he thought you were hot, he must not be aware just how damn near edible he is. 
He continued to suck mark after mark onto the skin of your neck, all while his hips rocked into yours with a friction that had you digging your nails into his bicep. One thing you both discovered was that Bradley had a bit of a thing for pain. He loved when you marked his skin with your nails or bit on his bottom lip whenever you kissed, but the thing he loved most was when you tugged on his hair in a death grip. The sore scalp and minor headaches he’d endure later on were so worth it.
So, as you raked your nails down his arm, Bradley just grunted against your neck, driving himself impossibly deeper into your inviting walls. “Yeah,” he breathed out, lifting his head so his lips brushed against yours. “I’m close, too, baby.” 
After doing this with you for nearly half a year, Bradley knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew how to get you off in every way possible, and he knew when you were close to that sweet peak of relief. 
Using the hand that wasn’t keeping him propped up above you, he presses the pad of his middle finger against your clit, which was still swollen from when he went down on you earlier. 
The added stimulation had you crying out, your fingers tightening in his hair as you came for the second time since you arrived at his house. “There you go, give it to me,” he muttered and his words somehow managed to prolong your high. “So good, letting me fuck you when we’re supposed to be with our friends.” 
As he continued to fuck into your warm and inviting core, you keep your hand tangled tightly in his hair and tug a bit harder, knowing that it would add to his pleasure. 
You were right, as he groaned against your mouth, a mantra of “Fuck,” leaving his kiss swollen lips when he came.
He fucks his release deeper into you, your greedy walls taking everything he gave, before he comes to a stop and lays his body gently down on top of yours. 
You release his hair and softly massage the top of his head, smoothing out the messy strands. As you bask in the afterglow, Bradley presses kisses to your bruised skin, a faint smirk on his lips at the sight of your hickey covered neck.
“I’m gonna miss this for the next six weeks,” he confessed and you had to calm your racing heart before it jumped to any conclusions.  
“What? Fucking me?” You ask with a quiet laugh, moving your hand to trace your fingers along his sweaty shoulder. 
“Fucking you,” he confirmed with a nod, making your smile fade a bit as he continued, “Kissing you, falling asleep with you in my arms. Just you in general.”
That made your smile reappear, and you moved his head so he was looking into your eyes. “You’re going to miss me? Or my body?” 
Bradley pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “You,” he answered before he was standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”
You take his hand and let him pull you up and off of his comfy bed. “Where are we going?”
He steadies you in his arms, a proud smirk on his lips at your inability to stand up on your own because of the number he did on you. “Since we’re already half an hour late, why don’t we make our friends wait a bit longer?” 
You smile up at him, letting him guide you towards his bathroom. “What did you have in mind?”
He kisses you deeply, his free hand tangling into your messy hair. “Come join me in the shower and find out,”
-
You and Bradley showed up a whole hour after your promised arrival time, but neither of you cared too much.
After your shower, you complained that you didn’t have anything you needed at his house, and his reply was one that you were still thinking about now, “You know, it’d be a lot easier if you just kept some of your stuff at my place. You’re here all the time, yet you’re still always unprepared for these kinds of things,” he was referring to your complaint that all of your makeup was at your house, and you had just scrubbed your face clean of the natural look you applied before you got there.
“What, you’re okay with me keeping my makeup all over your bathroom counter so I can reapply it once you’re done fucking it off me?” You had asked, half joking and half totally serious. 
“I don’t care, I’m barely in there, anyway. The room could use some personality,” was his response, and it had your mind thinking about things you didn’t usually allow yourself to dwell on for too long. 
Nearly six months you’ve been sleeping with him. Six months. 
And it’s been five months since you broke rule number one and fell for him. 
It was simple, easy, casual. 
You started out as nothing. You were a friend of Jake’s, and that in itself was a surprise, so it wasn’t much of a shock when he invited you to go with him to the Hard Deck. When Bradley arrived at the bar a few minutes after you and Jake did, he didn’t pay much attention to the girl under the blond’s arm.
Jake was definitely a ladies man, so to see him with his hand wrapped around a girl’s waist wasn’t all that surprising. He played pool with Nat for a bit before making his way over to the bar, barely acknowledging Jake as he ordered a beer. “Hey, Rooster!” The man greeted, his own beer sloshing around in the glass as he moved towards him. 
“Hangman,” Bradley muttered, hoping Penny would hurry up and hand him his drink. 
“I want to introduce you to my friend, Y/n,” 
That had Bradley turning his head in slight curiosity, a little shocked to hear that the girl currently stuck to his side was only a friend. When his eyes meet yours, his stoic expression drops. 
You were beautiful, to put it simply. 
He sweet talked his way into getting you to play pool with him, and later ended the night with you sprawled out on the back seat of his Bronco. He found himself under you, on top of you and in you several nights out of the week after that, and now the whole arrangement was about to be hitting the half a year mark. 
It started out casual; he’d be there when you needed him, and you’d be there when he needed you. 
The decision to not label it was a mutual one as you both believed it would be the best way to go about things. 
Only a month in was when you offered to sleep together without protection. You confessed that he was currently the only person you were seeing, and he also admitted that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else as well. 
As the months went on, Bradley began getting more affectionate with you, especially in public and in front of the other guys. While you were sure you were falling for him, he had also been acting as if he was more than just a friend with benefits. 
He offered you to sleep over every time you found yourself underneath him well into the night, and he woke you up each day with a good morning kiss and smile.
He lets you wear his clothes, use the appliances in his kitchen and even asks you to stay for dinner most nights. 
All in all, he was the perfect boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He just acted like it. 
There was a bit of an age difference, with you being twenty five and him pushing thirty five. While he had never explicitly said it bothered him, and he sure as hell never acted like he had a problem with it, you assumed that was why he had yet to make it official with you. 
You weren’t reading too much into this, right? You couldn’t be. 
He was all over you when you were around, and texted you constantly when you were away from him. He wanted you to feel comfortable wearing his clothes, didn’t care if you ate the leftovers he was saving, and had told you on more than one occasion to start keeping some of your things at his house. 
And you had started to, kind of. 
Your phone charger was plugged in next to his, a few of your shirts and jeans were currently in the washing machine along with his own, and your beloved hoodie you got from your uni days had a seemingly permanent place on the left side of his bed.
There was no way you had been given the wrong impression, right?
Right?
As soon as you entered the crowded bar, your face makeup free and one of his old vintage shirts tucked into your jean shorts, Bradley was pulling you with him to where Nat stood next to the pool table. “Hey, Rooster,” she greeted as she handed him a cue, nodding in your direction. “Rooster’s girlfriend.”
You expected him to correct her, but he surprised you by just shaking his head and laughing quietly, pulling you closer to his side. Your face heated up as you met Jake’s eyes from across the room, and he smiled as he waved you over to where he was sitting at the bar. 
“Hey, I’ll be back in a sec,” you tell Bradley, and he leans down so he could hear you better in the loud bar. “I’m going to go get a drink, you want one?”
“Just one,” he answered before placing a kiss on your lips. “Hurry back so you can watch me kick Nat’s ass.”
Nat slapped his arm as you walked away, a dumb grin on your lips as you made your way to the bar. Jake welcomed you over with an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your cheek. 
“Hey, Jake,” you say as you rest your hand on his chest. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered, eyeing something behind you with a sly smirk. “Don’t look now, but your guy friend is glaring at me as if you’re his girlfriend or something.” 
Despite his words, you turn and look at Bradley anyway. His brown eyes were on the two of you, furrowed and clouded over with what you think is jealousy. You held back a forming grin, your face heating up at the fact that he was getting jealous at the sight of you with another guy. Maybe it made you seem selfish, but you loved that he didn’t want you to be around other guys in the way you are currently with Jake. 
“He does realize that I’m the one who introduced him to you, right?” The blond asks and you just shake your head, leaning over the bar and ordering two beers. “You’re not official, right?”
You clench your jaw at the reminder and shake your head, “No,”
Jake takes a swig of beer as he runs his hand up and down your back in a friendly kind of gesture. “Then I don’t understand why he’s coming over here right now,”
At that, you turn just in time to see Bradley step into your space, his hand on your arm as he tugged you away from Jake. “Hands to yourself, Hangman,” he says coldly, eyeing the other man with a suspicious glance. “We both know I’m the one who’s taking her home after this.” 
His words dripped with a sense of possessiveness, and the whole thing had a surge of lust flow through your body. “My intentions are pure, Rooster,” Jake winked at the two of you as Bradley pulled you into his side. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 
“Is that right?” Bradley questioned but didn’t really care for the answer. 
“Relax, Bradley,” you murmur, handing him one of the beers. He didn’t take his eyes off Jake as he blindly took it from you, the cool bottle a nice contrast against his heated skin. “I came here with you, remember? That means I’m leaving with you, too.”
That had him meeting your eyes with a proud smirk on his lips, seemingly satisfied with your words. He gives Jake an over exaggerated shrug before pulling you along with him. “Later, Hangman,”
He tugged you over to the pool table once again, his hand sliding from your arm to your hip, where he squeezed slightly. You settle against his side, this position feeling more like where you were supposed to be than just an embrace. 
Staying true to his word, Bradley took you back home a few hours later, and you spent the rest of the night wrapped around him in more ways than one, and giving in to his quiet plead of, “Stay with me tonight,”
It was the fifth night in a row he’s asked you to do that, and the fifth time you’ve said yes without hesitation. 
-
The next morning, Bradley woke you up by going down on you until he had you coming twice. He didn’t ask you to return the favor, simply muttering something about “Needing his fix to start the day,” 
You help him pack any last minute things, before driving him to the dock in your car. This would be his second deployment since this whole ordeal started, and this time you were completely in love with him. You weren’t sure how you would cope with not seeing him for six weeks, and you wanted him to know that you’d be thinking about him the whole time he was gone. 
As you stood with him on the dock, you gazed up into his brown eyes with a sense of longing. “Thanks for coming with me this time,” he spoke quietly, making you grin up at him. 
The first deployment was just two weeks into your situationship, and since you weren’t really all too familiar with everything that made up the marvel of a man named Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed home and sent him a simple text that wished him luck.  
“Of course,” you reply, inching closer to him when his hands found home on your waist. Your eyes trailed over the scars on his cheek, and you refrained from reaching out to trace them with your finger. “I’m going to be thinking about you every single day, you know.”
This was it.
Bradley smiled down at you, leaning in and running his nose along the edge of your jaw. “You will?” He hummed, pressing various kisses to the marks he had left on your neck the night prior. When you nodded, he pulled back and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your lips to his in a lingering kiss. “I bet I know what part of me you’ll miss most.”
He was teasing you, but you were about to put your heart in the palm of his hand. “I’ll miss all of you,” 
Bradley grinned and took you into his arms in a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, too,”
From his hunched over position, your mouth was right next to his ear, meaning he was at the perfect height for you to whisper, “I think I’m falling for you,” 
There it was.
You had given him your heart. It was his to take, and you supposed it was also his to break, as it was like a switch flipped inside him.
His body tensed against yours, and you immediately regret ever opening your mouth. Before you could take your words back, Bradley pulls away and keeps his hands on your waist as he mutters, “What?”
You felt your eyes burn instantly, your lower lip threatening to quiver as you stared up at him. “I..” You weren’t sure what to say. You had clearly mistaken your role in his life, and you wished you had never said anything. You had completely fucked things up. But there was no going back now. “I’m falling for you, Bradley.” 
His eyes flicker between yours before he stands back up to his full height. “That’s what I thought you said,” he muttered under his breath. You feel your heart fall as he steps away from you, his arms dropping back to his sides. “Fuck, I wish you didn’t tell me that.”
You quickly begin building walls up around your heart as you stand your ground, swallowing harshly as you ask, “Why not?” 
Bradley’s eyes turn cold as he answers you, “Because that wasn’t what this was supposed to be,”
It was as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. 
You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself, glancing around at the many people who were sending their loved ones off with sad smiles and hugs. “I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel, Bradley,” you say quietly and he just scoffs. 
“We were just having fun, Y/n,” he says and grabs his bag that he had set down on the dock when you arrived. He slings it over his shoulder and places his aviators over his eyes. “That’s all this was. You’re ten years younger than me, what did you think was going to happen here? We’re in two different places in our lives, and I thought that was obvious.”
You break eye contact as the first of many tears begin to fall. “It wasn’t,” was all you managed to say before he was sighing heavily and backing away from you. 
“If that’s the case, sorry for leading you on,” he said as he turned and began walking up the ramp. He had only walked about four steps before he stopped with a heavy sigh. He turned to glance back at you, seeing that you hadn’t moved from your spot, and you hadn’t taken your eyes off the wooden dock below you. “Look, I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go. I’ll call you if I can, okay? We’ll talk more about it when I come back.”
You just nod, not bothering to lift your head and meet his eyes.
Without another word being shared between the two of you, Bradley steps onto the carrier deck and waits to be shipped off. Though he knows he shouldn’t, he glances up at the dock and his heart falls at what he saw. 
You were still where he left you, but that was when he finally caught sight of the tears that were steadily rolling down your face. You did a pretty good job at hiding them when he was right next to you, but now that he was far away, you had lifted your head and he was given a clear view of your pretty face as you cried. 
He realized then that he had royally fucked up, and he needed to make things right before he left for a month and a half. 
Bradley watched as an elderly woman gently placed her hand on your arm, surely thinking that you were crying because you were sad about having to say goodbye to your loved one, when in reality he had just broken your heart. 
As you began making your way through the crowd and towards your car, he cursed under his breath and fumbled around in his bag for his phone, regret filling his body as he clicked on your contact. 
He watched as you stopped walking through the crowd and pulled out your phone, and to his surprise, you actually answered. “What?” You sounded so sad, and it only made him further regret the words he said to you.
It wasn’t even the truth, and he hoped you would give him the chance to explain that to you. He needed to be quick, though, because he knew he would quickly lose service once the carrier started moving. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he rasped out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the way you turned to look over at him. He tried to meet your eyes as he continued, “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s talk about this now.”
You furrow your brows and shake your head. “There’s nothing to talk about, Bradley,”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted, feeling his heart drop once the carrier started to pull away from the dock. 
“There’s not,” you muttered. “I mistook my place, disrespected your boundaries and that’s on me. Completely my fault.”
“No, that’s- no,” he begged but he knew he didn’t have enough time to get through to you. “Please, just, wait for me. I’ll call you as soon as I can, we’ll talk and-”
“And what, Bradley?” You cut him off. “You said it yourself; I’m too young for you. Too immature. It’s best if we just end this now so we can both stop wasting our time.”
“You’re not a waste of time,” he said quickly, watching as your form slowly began to disappear the further he drifted away from you. “I’ve loved every second I’ve spent with you, and I think I’m-” 
Before he could also give you his heart, you had broken it with a simple sentence, “You’re cutting out,” and you were, too, but somehow your last few words were crystal clear. “I know where we stand now. Goodbye, Bradley.”
And then you hung up. And he was left to drop his hand back down to his side in defeat as he silently prayed he was able to call you within the next few days. 
-
A whopping six hours had passed since Bradley had been shipped off when he found himself missing you. 
His arms ached to be wrapped around you, his lips missed the taste of yours, and his heart longed with a sense of need to know that you would still be his once he returned home. 
His.
Bradley had to laugh. 
You weren’t his.
He hadn’t managed to step up and ask you to take things to the next level yet before he was ruining everything. He hadn’t given a possible real relationship with you a chance.
God, he was so mean, belittling you as if you deserved to be treated with anything other than respect and kindness. He acted like a proper asshole, and he deserved to feel all the things he felt right now. 
Shame. Guilt. Regret. Anger. He felt all of it all at once, and he hated himself for hurting you.
Had he known the sad sight of you crying because of him was all he needed to get his act straight, he would’ve told you he loved you when you confessed to falling for him back on the dock. 
Bradley loves you. Why did it take losing you for him to realize that?
A couple weeks passed before he was allowed the opportunity to call you, and as he put your number in, he found himself praying to anyone that may have been listening that you would answer. 
He felt a little more than deflated when it rang five times before he was sent to your voicemail. He listened to your sweet voice ask him to leave you a message, and he did, but he also knew you wouldn’t be able to call him back once you listened to the message.
If you listened to it at all.
“Hey, sweet girl. I… God, I wish you picked up, but I understand why you didn’t. A few weeks ago…fuck, I was so out of line, baby, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I’m just a fucking idiot when it comes to this kind of thing and I threw all my issues on you, and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley waited a beat or two before he continued, “I’m so sorry. I miss you, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I hope I can see you on the day I get back to San Diego. I only have just under a month to go, and I can’t wait to see you and talk about this in person, if you’ll let me.”
He felt pathetic, leaving you a sappy message you couldn’t even reply to. 
“I’m sorry, again, and I hope things have been going well for you,” he ended the message after that, reluctantly hanging up and returning back to his bunk, where he threw himself down on the bed that felt too empty without you by his side. 
-
It went on like that for weeks. 
Bradley would go to sleep, wake up, complete whatever he needed to do for the day, then do it all over again, all while thinking about you. 
He was counting down the days until he was able to return home and back to you, but he wasn’t sure he even had the right to seek you out once he was off the carrier. 
He had called you again a few days ago, and you had once again given him your voicemail. Two calls in, and it was silent on your end. He missed you terribly, missed your flowery scent, your kind smiles, your voice, and the feeling of your body tucked against his. 
Yeah, he missed the sex, but he missed you more. All of you. 
You were so close to being his. You had put your heart on your sleeve, completely his for the taking, and he rejected you. Like a fucking idiot. 
He knew he would get an earful from Nat once he got back, and he was honestly looking forward to it. He knew he deserved it, and he couldn’t think of a better person to call him out on his bullshit than his best friend. 
Another week flew by after he successfully completed his mission, and he was a few quick hours away from the same dock he had left you on a month and a half ago. 
While he didn’t expect you to be there to greet him once he stepped off the carrier, he still felt his heart break a bit as he finally let it all sink in. A few feet from where he stood now, he had broken your heart.
He dropped his bag onto the dock below him as he pulled his phone out and called you, once again disappointed when he was sent to your voicemail. Before he could stop himself, he left you a message, “Hey, it’s me. I’m back home now, and I still really want to see you. I want to try to explain myself and why I said the things I did. I’m still so sorry, Y/n/n, really, I am,” he ended it after that, and used the last bit of battery he had left to call Nat in hopes she would come and pick him up. 
Like he expected, Nat did end up chewing him out during the entire ride home, and even in his own driveway. Bradley just sat there and took it, knowing he deserved every harsh dig that was thrown at him and more. 
When she angrily reached over and hugged him in the car, she promptly told him to get out and that she would see him later at the Hard Deck. 
Bradley unlocked the front door and stepped into his house, the silence being the last thing he wanted to be met with. You were in your twenties, you were young and loud and cheerful, he had gotten so used to how chaotic his life had become since you entered it. It was chaotic in the best way, and he missed the loud laughs you would emit as he carried you down the hall to his room, or when the two of you would skip out on beers with your friends to watch a comedy in his living room instead. 
He sulked his way to his room, and his heart deflated even more at the sight he was met with. Nat had gone on about how she had to use the key Bradley gave her to let you into his house while he was away, and how she was confused about that until now. 
Gone was your phone charger and old movies you kept by the TV he had on his dresser, and he was sure your clothes in his laundry room were picked up as well. The left side of his bed was bare of your uni hoodie, a thing he had a strong amount of fondness for.
Coming home to a quiet house was one thing, but walking into a bedroom that lacked any personality at all was something else. The small things you kept in there made it appear more lived in, more cared for than he had ever tried to make it look, and he once again was reminded just how much he had fucked up.
You made him happy, were the reason he looked forward to the end of his days because it would likely mean he would end them with you, like he had been for the good part of the last six months.
Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he threw his bag onto the bed. He plugged his phone in before heading into the bathroom, his eyes glancing at the spotless counter. A few of your face washes and creams had taken up space next to the sink the last time he was in here, but now they were gone too. 
He quickly realized how much he loved having your things at his house. God, did he miss you. 
After the quickest shower of his life, Bradley got dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and unplugged his phone. It had only been charged up to thirty four percent, but he didn’t plan on going on the device too much once he arrived at the Hard Deck.
He grabbed his keys and wallet before he started up his beloved Bronco, typing out a quick text to you in hopes you’d actually answer him this time.
You’re ignoring me and that’s fine, but I hope I’ll be able to see you at the Hard Deck tonight? If not, maybe we can meet up later and I can explain everything to you. Please. I don’t want it to end like this.
He didn’t want it to end at all, but especially not with you thinking you weren’t all he could ever want. 
To his surprise, you had actually gotten back to him pretty fast, and your response had him quickly backing out of his driveway and speeding down the road towards the Hard Deck. 
Y/n/n: Seems as though luck is on your side today. Glad you’re back home and safe. I guess I’ll see you tonight.
2K notes · View notes
natashatrace · 2 months
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"you look good."
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bussyslayer333 · 1 year
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There was something ‘bout you
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summary: bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him. college au
pairing: fratboy!bradley x tutor!reader
word count: 9.2k
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of blood, teeny amount of violence, smut (oral and pinv), bradley sucks so bad but he’s cute!! MDNI 18+
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Bradley knew girls liked him, loved him even.
He once had a girl leave him a love letter after a night together. It was a sweet touch, the pink paper and the gel pen she’d written it in, he slept with her once more after that but had to cut her off once he caught her snipping a little bit of his hair off in the middle of the night.
Anyways, what Bradley had concluded is that he was an attractive guy. Not too classically like his roommate and best friend Jake with his blonde locks and ken doll looks. But in a boyish charming way with his “big brown puppy dog eyes” or whatever that girl had written in the letter.
So when his Eng Lit professor had told him he was going to be tutored by a girl in his class he was pretty excited to say the least. Truth be told, the only reason he had picked this Eng Lit class was because he knew there would be an abundance of girls in there, sure they were probably a little more intellectually advanced than the girls he would usually go for but maybe that was what he needed. Some girl obsessed with like gothic literature, Jake had assured him they were the freaks he needed to bag.
He’s already started tuning out Professor Clarke’s spiel on getting his grade up and started imagining all the hot girls in his class who could possibly be tutoring him. There was Clara, she was the kind of gothy Jake was on about, he could definitely be into that. Or even Natalie, she was who Bradley usually went for, pretty brunette and what Jake would call in his omniscience; a colossal rack.
“Bradley, are you listening to me?”
Bradley pulled his mind from the depths of analysis of the girls in his class and hummed,
“Yes, Professor.”
“So you know who I’m assigning to tutor you?”
Bradley winces apologetically and watches as Professor Clarke runs a hand down his face.
“Please, Bradley. I’m just asking you to try and put some effort in, she’s only gonna be able to do so much to help you, you need to help yourself.”
Bradley sighs, “who is it?”
When Professor Clarke gives Bradley your name and tells him that you’ll meet him after class tomorrow his first thought is “who the fuck is that?” and his second one is in mourning of being in forced proximity of a hot goth chick or one of the girls who he’s already slept with.
Bradley walks back to his house slightly dejected, if he couldn’t even recognise you from your name there was probably not a huge chance you were going to be the ‘bad boy gets taught in a different way by his tutor’ wet dream he was hoping for. When he finally gets back he finds Jake lounging on the couch with another one of his frat brothers Reuben.
Jake looks up from where him and Reuben are watching this weeks football highlights on the TV to meet Bradley’s moping gaze.
“You good bro?”
Bradley replies with a whine, “Professor Clarke is making some girl tutor me.”
Reuben snorts and shovels another handful of chips into his mouth, “hot.”
Bradley rolls his eyes and flops onto the couch in between his two friends. He says your name to the two boys and begins, “do you know her?”
Jake’s eyebrows furrow in thought for a moment before he smacks Reuben on the back of the head,
“Bro?” He whines.
“It’s the library chick!” Jake exclaims.
Reuben looks confused for a moment before he realises, “oh shit yeah!”
Jake and Reuben looks happy for themselves for a few moments before Bradley interrupts again, “When the fuck have you ever been to the library?”
Jake frowns, “I’ll have you know that I read, the classics are my favourite!”
“What classics?” Reuben scoffs.
Jake smiles, “You know, the classic ones?”
“Where’s Waldo isn’t a classic J,” Bradley smirks.
“Shut the fuck up, okay I was trying to impress this girl in my econ class.” Jake admits, “she’s very well read.”
Bradley mutters something about Jake being pussywhipped before deciding he needed to get back to the problem at hand. You.
“Okay, so library chick. Do I know her?”
Jake racks his mind for a minute, scowling at Reuben’s loud chewing sounds.
“Fuck, yeah okay, do you remember last year? She dropped that massive encyclopaedia on your hand after you whistled when she was bent over sorting out books.”
Bradley cringes in recollection. In his defence he did think he was complimenting you… albeit with not much class or subtlety. You were cute. Maybe a bit nerdy, but you clearly had guts which he appreciated.
“Shit.. yeah.”
Bradley hoped you weren’t one for grudges.
You weren’t for the most part, and when Professor Clarke had told you who you would be tutoring you had decided last years incident could be water under the bridge. You figured he didn’t even remember you, he hadn’t acknowledged your presence in the one class you shared either way.
However, when he came sauntering down from his seat right at the back of the lecture hall and paused in front of you by Professor Clarke’s desk you were already becoming mildly irritated.
Bradley could tell, and he also knew that he was goading it on by making eye contact with your tits before your eyes and then saying,
“Hey, beautiful.”
He watches as you scoff and mutter something that sounds similar to “fucking prick.” It makes him smile.
Professor Clarke sighs loudly and speaks directed towards you, “I trust you’ll be able to help Bradley, Lord knows he needs it.”
Bradley’s smile drops, “Hey! I literally submitted my last assignment in on time!”
Your face drops in shock, is that seriously what he considers a win?
Professor Clarke looks at Bradley and sighs once again, “you sent me a gif of a rat dancing and made the subject of the email “The Great Ratsby”.”
Bradley sputters slightly but clears his throat feeling the weighted stare of Professor Clarke still on him. The older man smiles thinly as you thank him for his time and move towards the door. Bradley is hot on your tail, and he rounds on you once the reach the corridor.
“So…. how are we doing this angel?”
Bradley can’t control how his lips quirk upwards at you apparent distaste for the pet name. He can’t help but wonder what you’d appreciate more; maybe sweetheart or baby or something cute like bunny. He’s snapped out of his thought process by you waving your hand in front of his face.
“Earth to Bradley?” You quip.
He shakes his head a smiles, “Sorry what was that sweetheart?”
He notices how your brows furrowed once again before you start up, “I could book a study room in the library? Wednesday at 6?”
Bradley nods, “Sure, can I get your number?”
You’re taken aback slightly before Bradley clarifies, “So we can text about when to meet?”
“Oh. Right, yeah of course.”
Bradley reaches for his phone in his hoodie pocket and hands it to you, opening it up to his contacts. Before you can type in your number you can’t help but notice the sheer amount of girls in his contacts. All with specific names.
cass (toothy ❌)
natalie (.)(.)
samantha (screamer ✅)
It makes you’re stomach churn in mild horror, which your push down in favour of finally typing in your number. You hand his phone back to him and watch as he chuckles whilst writing your contact name. He doesn’t let you see it before shooting you off a short “hi” text to send his number to your phone.
Bradley stares at you for a moment before whistling, “right… so I’ll see you Wednesday?”
You smile awkwardly back at him, “yeah.”
He readjusts his cap and nods in a goodbye before turning to leave the building. You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you walk out the exit opposite.
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It’s 6:45 on Wednesday when Bradley finally shows up. He’s wearing black joggers and a top that you presume is a few sizes too small with a cap placed backwards on his head.
He felt kind of shitty about being late, he was leaving to get to the library at 10 to 6 when Jake and his other frat brother Mickey called him over whilst they were playing COD, he thought he could squeeze in a game and not be too late. Evidently, he was wrong.
You’re reading a book which he doesn’t recognise when he finds you in the study room and begins to apologise.
“I’m sorry for being late sweetheart-”
“Yeah. Whatever Bradley, let’s just start.” You breathe out, not having the energy to listen to his excuses.
Bradley’s pissed at that. He came in here willing to apologise and you think you can make him feel bad? Not likely.
“There’s no need to get bitchy? I literally said I’m sorry.” Bradley snorts, pulling a chair out opposite you with a loud scrape.
You scoff, “seriously? I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour!”
“Yeah and I said sorry!”
“That’s not the point-”
You catch yourself before you carry on, he wasn’t worth the waste of breath.
“Look it’s fine. Let’s just get started.”
Bradley pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and leans back.
“Alright.”
The session is as productive as you can make it with your significantly shorter period of time. You find out that Bradley knows little to nothing about any of the texts that you’re studying and enjoys annoying you deeply. You’re not sure whether he hates silence or just loves the sound of his own voice. You figure it’s the latter.
“You’re glasses don’t fit you properly.” He points out after you push them up your nose for the third time in the past minute.
They’re slipping down your nose as you look down to read over some notes Bradley had made.
“Sure they do.”
Bradley shrugs and leans back again. You can feel his heavy gaze on you as you push your glasses back up again. He doesn’t say anything. Just smiles.
You’re cute, for sure. He kind of digs your chunky cardigan library assistant vibe. Maybe if you loosened up a little he’d like you even more. Bradley starts to wonder what you’d be like at one of his frat parties. He doesn’t think he’s seen you anywhere outside of class or the library. Maybe you’d go absolutely buck wild after a few of Reuben’s infamously too strong drinks. He figures you’re probably his friend Bob’s type, you’re both sort of nerdy and cute in a mousy way.
Bradley doesn’t realise he’s been zoned out looking at your face for the past two minutes until he sees a book being dropped down on the desk in front of him. It gives him slight PTSD from the encyclopaedia incident. He picks up the book and looks at you, confused.
“What’s this?”
You laugh with an almost unbelieving look on your face.
“Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet? We’ve just started going over it in class?”
Bradley picks up the book of various Shakespeare plays and skims through it until he reaches Romeo and Juliet.
“Yeah, my bad, I think I recognise this.”
You cringe inwardly at the amount of work you’re probably going to have to put in to stop Bradley from failing.
“Great.”
Bradley smiles at what he thinks is praise from you and goes back to reading the first scene of the play. You’re blessed with a blissful silence for a moment whilst Bradley reads and you send off a few texts to you roommate Maya about how the tutoring session is going.
maya 😘😘
how is it???????
you
he’s an idiot
i’m pretty sure i saw him read dickens on the reading list and snort and then mumble “dick” under his breath
maya 😘😘
LMFAO
the cute ones are never smart
you
ew
maya 😘😘
shut up you’d hit
you
i find that offensive
Before you can send off another annoyed text to your friend, Bradley speaks up again.
“Do you like, read and shit?”
You stifle a giggle, “what?”
“Like books?”
“Are you seriously asking the girl who works at the library-”
Bradley chuckles, “Okay! I see my mistake, what’s you’re favourite book then?”
You hum whilst staring at him, it was an oddly thoughtful question.
“Probably Wuthering Heights. It’s by Emily Brontë.”
You’re not quite sure why you told him the last part. There was no doubt in your mind that Bradley Bradshaw did not know who the Brontë sisters were.
He cocks his head to the side, “what’s it about?”
You’re not sure whether Bradley genuinely wants to know about you and your interests or if he just doesn’t want to actually study, Bradley is equally confused because he’s asking his question in earnest.
“It’s about this guy called Heathcliff who gets adopted into this family and falls in love with his sister Catherine, he grows up to find out that she’s a married another man and basically becomes obsessed with avenging what could have been his.” You try to explain as simply as possible.
“HIS SISTER?” Bradley exclaims with a laugh.
“It’s not like that-”
“Babe, I didn’t realise you were into that freak shit.”
You can’t control your laugh at the absurdity of his words. Bradley really likes that sound, and the way that your eyes crinkle. It’s weird, he suddenly feels like he wants to be the only person to make you do that.
Once you’ve calmed down you look back up to see Bradley staring at you once again. You quirk an eyebrow up questioningly before looking at the clock behind him.
“Shit, we need to go. I only booked this place till 8.”
“What! I swear I only just got here!”
You snort, “Yeah well if you’d been on time…”
Bradley pouts at you, “Baby, please. I’m sorry.”
It’s half mocking, but the way he’s staring up at you with wide eyes makes your stomach flutter slightly. You shake your head as if to banish the thoughts and begin picking up your books.
“Just be on time next week, please.”
Bradley stands, moving round the table and pats you on the head.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
The gesture makes your frown slightly, but it served as a reminder for how you suppose Bradley truly feels about you. You’re not friends, and he doesn’t like you in any romantic capacity. You’re just the girl forced into tutoring him.
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The next few tutoring sessions go somewhat the same. Bradley has a short attention span but tries his best, he’s nice enough to you that you can sometimes forget he’s slept with half the girls in your class.
You’re sat next to him in the study room doing some quick flash card recap questions. He’s fiddling with a thread at the end of your long sleeve shirt, it feels kind of intimate but you don’t want to look into it too hard. It’s been like this over the past few weeks, touches that last too long and his incessant usage of pet names. But, every time you begin to let yourself feel special you’ll catch a glimpse of a girls name flash across his phone screen and your predicament hits you right across the face with a loud crack; shattering the hope you’ve been building.
Bradley moves from playing with the thread on your top sleeve to your fingers, mumbling a correct answer to one of your questions. He keeps finding the need to be close to you, and not even always in a sexual way which shocks him the most. Don’t get him wrong, he’s definitely thought about it a few times in the shower, or in his bed or even when he was fucking Natalie last week and he suddenly thought about how cute you’d look with your glasses sliding down your nose whilst you’re sat on top of him. He had to look away from Natalie for the rest of the time she was there, he felt too guilty.
The morning after when Natalie had left surprisingly early, Jake (who had been noticing the lack of girls flowing in and out of his shared room on Bradley’s part) had an inkling as to why.
“You like her.” Jake declares as he plops himself down in the gaming chair in his room, spinning to face where Bradley is lying on his bed.
“What?”
“The library chick. The one who’s been tutoring you.” Jake expands.
“What do you mean?”
“You like her!”
Bradley huffs, annoyed at Jake’s insistence, “yeah, she’s cool.”
Jake rolls his eyes, “no, you like like her.”
“You’re 12, and no I don’t!” Bradley removes his hands from behind his head and moves to sit up straighter against his headboard.
Jake clicks his tongue, “okay so you wouldn’t mind if I fucked her?”
Bradley cocks his head to the side but doesn’t say anything.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, she’s kind of hot.”
Jake watched as a muscle in Bradley’s jaw ticks. He knows he’s struck gold.
“Maybe we’ll do some roleplay, she can be my sexy teacher and I’ll bend her over the desk.” Jake wraps his knuckles against the desk behind him and chuckles, “sturdy.”
Jake knows he’s almost got Bradley as he watches him clench and unclench his fist.
“I mean that ass, it’s insane really I’ll tell you how it feels afterwards if you-”
“Shut the fuck up! Fuck! Fine okay I fucking like her, what do you want me to say?!”
Bradley’s outburst doesn’t surprise Jake in the slightest. In fact, it puts a smile on his face.
“Nothing. I just wanted to know.”
Bradley rubs a hand down his face, he’s pretty sure he’s never felt like this before. It kind of scares him to be honest.
“You should invite her here on Friday.”
Friday. For the party. Bradley thinks about it for a second, “Bro, not if you’re going to try and fuck her.”
Jake chuckles, “she’s all yours, her roommate is the girl from my econ class so if anything this is selfish of me.”
Bradley smiles, “alright.”
After Bradley answers another question correct you smile at him brightly.
“Looks like somebody’s been hitting the books!” You poke, setting your flash cards down on the table.
Bradley warms at the praise and looks at you for a moment.
“Will you come to my party on Friday?”
You study his face for a moment, he looks almost nervous.
“I don’t know Brad, it’s not really my scene and I wouldn’t really know anyone,” you smile apologetically at him.
“You know me!” Bradley reasons, pulling your hand into his.
“And you’re gonna spend the whole night sitting with me? You’re funny.”
Bradley thinks about how he’d definitely do that if you asked him to.
“Bring your roommate! Maya is it? I’m pretty sure Jake is in love with her.”
Bradley’s words make you giggle and you consider for a moment, when you look back to Bradley he’s got an adorable pout on his lips,
“Please don’t make me beg, angel.”
Although the idea of Bradley on his knees begging is tempting, you’re not that cruel. You pretend to think for a moment more before answering.
“Fine. But only in the name of Jake and Maya.”
Bradley is pleased with your answer, “Thanks, angel.”
You smile, “whatever.”
You check your phone and find that you’ve spent the last 10 minutes of the session just chatting with Bradley.
“We need to go,” You remind him.
Bradley looks a little crestfallen but stands anyway. He helps you gather your books and puts them into your tote bag for you.
“Thanks.” You mumble as he hands the bag to you.
He scratches the back of his head for a moment before speaking, “Can I, like, walk you back?”
His gesture makes you smile, as well as his sort of nervous demeanour, “Little old me? Bradley Bradshaw wants to walk little old me home?” you tease.
The familiar smirk makes its way back onto Bradley’s face at your prodding. “Shut up, I’m being a gentleman or whatever.”
“Well then, who am I to decline?” You smile at him.
“Dork.” Bradley mutters under his breath as he opens the door for you.
Bradley takes your bag off of your shoulder and places it on his own, once he feels the weight settles down he looks at you shocked,
“You carry this shit around everywhere?”
The confused look in his eye makes you laugh, “yes?”
“This is so heavy? What are you even carrying?”
“Books? My laptop?”
Bradley laughs, “Shit, maybe I need to start coming to these sessions more prepared.”
Bradley pushes open the main door to the library and the cold night air hits you unexpectedly, making you shiver in your long sleeve tee. He looks down at your attire and rolls his eyes.
“Hold this for a sec.” Bradley drops your bag back into your hands and begins to pull his hoodie up over his head.
You go to protest but your mouth falls open awkwardly at the way his t-shirt rides up, exposing his toned lower abdomen and the sprinkling of hair that leads all the way down-
“Angel?”
“Yes! Sorry, what?” You stutter out with a chuckle.
Bradley gestures for you to hand him back the bag and hands out the hoodie with his other hand. You take it and pull it over your head, revelling in the smell of it. It’s partly his cologne and the rest something uniquely him.
“Ready to go?” Bradley asks, looking down at you.
“Sure,” You smile up at him.
Bradley feels his stomach flip, looking down at your frame drowned in his hoodie. Before he can even process what he’s doing Bradley has slipped his hand into yours. You don’t say anything in fear of him retracting it but the smile that sits on your face is blinding.
You walk in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bradley squeezing your hand every now and then in reassurance. You turn a corner and watch as you apartment complex comes into view. Squeezing his hand you look up at him and speak,
“This is me.”
Bradley pouts a little, “You don’t want me to walk you all the way in?”
You giggle and shake your head, “No don’t worry.”
You reach for the hem of the hoodie and begin to pull it up when Bradley stops you.
“Keep it. Please. It looks better on you.” He almost whispers.
You flush at his words and look at him with furrowed brows, trying to study his expression. Whether he’s being truthful or not. He hands your bag back over to you and nods.
“If you’re sure.” You smile, “I’ll see you Friday?”
Bradley winks, “You better.”
“Night Bradley.”
“Goodnight, angel.” Bradley hums.
He watches your retreating frame until you’re inside of your building before spinning on his heel to walk in the opposite direction back to his house.
Bradley pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking through his messages as he walks. He finds himself deleting almost all of the irrelevant numbers from girls that had been littering his contacts without much thought. Once he’s done he goes to pocket his phone again before it vibrates in his hand.
angel ❤️‍🩹
thank u <3
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Maya has been ready to go for the past half an hour as she sits on your bed and watches as you pick up various dresses and items of clothing before discarding them on the floor.
You’ll admit you probably look ridiculous stood in your underwear with a full face of makeup on and your hair pulled up into a styled ponytail but it was not your priority at this second.
“I have nothing to wear! I’m not going Maya, just go without me!”
Maya sighs and walks towards you’re closet, rifling through the particularly skimpy dresses you had purposely avoided. She pulls out a short blue halter neck dress and shoves it into your hands.
“Go put this on.”
You roll your eyes at her tone, “okay, mom.”
“And don’t ruin the makeup I did!”
You wander into the little bathroom and begin to pull the dress over your head when Maya opens the door with a tiny scrap of fabric in her hands.
“You are not wearing those granny panties,” She looks pointedly down at the cotton panties with flowers that you have on.
You pout, “They’re comfy.”
Maya struts over and places the lacy garment in your hand, “Bradley can thank me later.”
“Shut up!” You exclaim, trying to hide your smile.
“I’ll be in here if you need me,” She giggles,
“Wait! Maya you didn’t give me a bra!” You whine.
She rolls her eyes, “I know.” Before closing the door behind her.
You strip out of your comfy underwear and look down at the baby blue lace and sigh, at least you’d shaved. Pulling the dress over your head whilst trying to maintain Maya’s artistry was hard but not impossible you found, and when you pulled the dress the rest of the way down you realised you didn’t need a bra anyway. You spin a little, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked good.
There’s a new found confidence in your walk as you make your way back to your bedroom where Maya is sat fiddling with the buckle on a pair of wedges in her lap. When she looks up she hollers at you,
“Damnn! Twirl for me gorgeous!”
You laugh at her antics but indulge her anyway gasping in faux shock when she slaps your butt playfully. She hands over the wedges and your eyes widen slightly at the height.
Maya laughs at your expression, “baby don’t worry I’m sure they’ll be in the air more than they’ll be on the ground anyway.”
“You’re relentless!” You swat at her before bending down to do up the shoes.
You gather your phone and some lipgloss before linking your arms in Maya’s.
“Let’s go?”
“Let’s go.” She confirms.
You check your phone once your a block away from Bradley’s frat house. There’s a few messages from him that you’ve yet to respond to.
brad 🙃
when are u getting here??
i miss u angel
you
almost there :)
You snort at how needy Bradley sounded, there was probably enough girls there to keep him entertained.
It’s not hard to miss Bradley’s house, there are people littered around the front yard drinking and the music could be heard from at least a block away. As you walk up the steps on the front porch you wobble slightly on your wedges and Maya steadies you, she sees the anxious look in your eyes and smiles,
“You look so hot right now babe,”
You roll your eyes but let the nerves sink down as she grips onto your hand tighter.
The house is pretty packed with girls in tiny outfits and an unnerving amount of shirtless dudes. Maya leads you through the crowds to where there’s a group of dudes playing beer pong. As you get closer you recognise Jake and Bradley and a few other guys from their frat.
Jake spots you both first, nudging Bradley. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous when Bradley makes eye contact with you and starts making his way over, much to the disappointment of the frat bro he was playing with. You look to your side to find that Maya has already made her way over to Jake and when you look back Bradley is right in front of you.
He’s still tall enough that you have to look up to make eye contact with him, and his cologne clouds your thoughts. He takes your hand and drags you over to a quieter corner of the room. Bradley’s eyes rake over your form hungrily, you drop your hands in front of your stomach almost on autopilot.
“You look incredible, angel.” Bradley speaks earnestly.
He takes both your hands in his and holds them up so he can stare at you again.
You can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks as you look up at him, “You think?” You ask somewhat coyly.
Bradley nods, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, making you giggle. He takes one of your hands and spins you around just slightly and whistles lowly,
“Can I take a picture?”
You roll your eyes and spin back around to face him, pushing lightly at his chest, “Shut up.”
He raises both hands in mock defence and shrugs, “worth a shot.”
You move to stand to the side of him, back against the wall and take a moment to look at him. He looks handsome, as always, but you can tell he’s put extra effort in. He’s wearing a thin shirt with two of the middle buttons done up and dark jeans. You’re sure he could have forgone the shirt with how much of his skin is exposed but you can’t complain seeing how tightly it fits around his biceps. His hair is tousled but in a way that looks purposeful and he smells incredible.
Without realising, you’ve inched closer to Bradley and his cologne hits your nose in a pleasant surprise. When you meet his eyes you find that he’s already looking at you.
“You smell good,” you murmur.
Bradley leans down so that you can hear him clearly, “thank you, angel.”
His lips brush against the shell of your ear so delicately that you could almost pretend that you imagined it, but the way a shiver runs down your spine tells you otherwise. Before you get a chance to compose yourself Bradley is imposing on your personal space again and speaking into you ear,
“Do you want me to get you a drink?” He nods towards the kitchen on the far side of the house.
You consider for a moment, then nod.
“Please.”
Maybe it would help calm your nerves.
“I’ll be back in a sec.”
Bradley departs from his space next to you with a wink, his lack of presence already making you frown. Instead of moping, you survey the surrounding area for Maya, hoping to check in with her.
You finally catch sight of her when her hot pink dress catches your eye as she ascends the main staircase with a tall blonde who you can only recognise as Jake. You giggle, swiping open your phone to send her a text.
you
use protection 😘
You can only hope she reads your message.
After a few more moments of scrolling through your phone you look up to realise Bradley still hasn’t made his way back to you. First you consider the fact that this is a party that he is hosting, he could have been sidetracked by any one of his numerous frat brothers or friends.
So, you decide to make your way to the kitchen, just so you could retrieve your drink of course.
What you’re not prepared to see is short brunette girl kissing Bradley, because of course that’s what held him up from getting your drink. It serves as a reminder of the fact that he is not your boyfriend and had no intention of being so, you figure he probably got tired of waiting for you to put out so he moved onto the next girl. You see that someone had lined up a few tequila shots on the counter nearest to you and knock back the few closest, wincing as the liquid warms the back of your throat all the way down to your stomach.
You close your eyes and breathe out, stomach churning from the shots and sight you’ve just seen, you spin on your heel to walk away from the counter but stumble whilst turning around too quickly. You probably would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for a strong grasp, steadying you by the waist.
“Shit, you okay darlin’?” The person who saved you from near embarrassment drawls out.
You steady yourself with hands on his surprisingly hard chest and look up into his blue eyes. He’s handsome, even with his wired frame glasses slipping down his sloped nose. He’s not less attractive than Bradley, just in a more refined way.
“God, I’m sorry, I’m not used to wearing shoes this high yet.” You mumble sheepishly, frustrated that you’ve managed to embarrass yourself in front of another freakishly attractive man.
“I’m Robert or Bob or whatever you want to call me,” Robert smiles down at you, speaking somewhat loudly to combat the thumping bass of whatever song was currently playing.
You give him your name and he smiles brighter if possible, almost as if he’s shocked you’re still talking to him.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He charms, watching you giggle.
His words almost make you forget what you had seen in the kitchen, the memory making you frown ever so slightly. Robert mistakes this for annoyance at his words and quickly adds on,
“Sorry, that was stupid and-”
You’re quick to silence his anxieties, “No, I liked it.” You speak in earnest, propelled by liquid courage.
Robert scratches the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side, “Do you want to dance?”
His question makes you smile, because yeah you do want to dance and fuck Bradley Bradshaw.
“Totally.” You beam up at him.
Robert pulls you toward the living room where people are crammed together dancing, sweaty bodies moving on top of each other in some cases almost obscenely.
The music seems to be vibrating off of the walls and the familiar voices of Rihanna and Bryson Tiller fill your ears. Robert seems somewhat apprehensive but the tequila buzzing through you makes you confident as you turn you back to him, grinding your ass back subtly as to test the waters. Robert’s hands move to grip at your waist, aiding you in grinding back onto him. You move one of your arms to rest around his neck and you giggle as you hear him groan quietly into your hair.
Bradley returns to where he’d left you flustered and annoyed carrying two red cups. Natalie had cornered him in the kitchen and tried to kiss him. He was furious, he’d sent her a text a few days ago apologising and letting her know he wasn’t interested in seeing her again. Clearly, that didn’t matter to her. After she had forced herself on him, he shoved her off somewhat awkwardly and told her firmly that he wasn’t interested. Bradley realised she was clearly already plastered and retrieved one of her friends from nearby to look after her.
He felt bad for leaving you on your own for so long but he hoped that if he could explain you wouldn’t be too annoyed.
However, when he gets back he finds that you’re not there. Initially, he worries that you’d left to go home. But after scanning the large living room packed with people, he spots you, grinding back onto his friend Bob.
Bradley’s stomach drops watching how you giggle at something Bob has whispered into your ear, how his hands and wrapped around your waist and how your ass is grinding back onto his crotch.
Without realising, Bradley has began to storm through the clumps of intoxicated people, dropping the drinks on a side table nearby. Fuelled by anger and jealously he pulls at one of Bob’s arms wrapped around your waist.
Bob stumbles back and turns with brows furrowed,
“Bradley? Are you okay-”
Before he can finish his question, Bradley’s fist hits the side of Bob’s nose with a sickening crunch, pushing him to the ground before raising his fist to hit him again.
The people who were previously dancing have made a circle around the commotion, drawing the attention of Bradley’s frat brothers Reuben and Mickey who push to the middle of the circle and grab Bradley before he can cause anymore damage.
“What the fuck man!” Reuben scolds in his ear, pulling him from his anger induced trance.
Bradley stops struggling against Reuben and Mickey’s grip, and instead looks down to see you tearfully wiping at the blood spilling from Bob’s nose in copious amounts.
Your watery eyes are looking up at him with so much anger that he feels bile rising in his throat. He runs a bruised hand through his sweaty hair and sighs. He can hear Mickey trying to get everyone to disperse, clearly not wanting his friend’s dirty laundry being aired out in front of everyone they know. Bradley can’t focus on any of the words being spoken to him, just the utter look of disappointment on your face.
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A few hours later almost everyone has left the house. You’re sat on a bench in the backyard knees tucked under you and wedges removed and on the floor. Maya and Jake are sat next to you, they had returned to find an almost empty house save for you and Jake’s frat brothers.
Bradley had stormed out following Reuben and Mickey’s intervention, he couldn’t handle looking at your sad face and being the one who caused it.
“I just don’t know what the fuck he wants from me!” You exclaim to Maya.
Her and Jake had been filled in by you and Jake had the decency to look sheepish. It was his idea to invite you tonight, he knew how Bradley felt about you but it wasn’t necessarily his place to say.
You didn’t know how to feel, you were still upset from seeing him kiss that girl, confused as to why he punched Robert if he clearly wasn’t interested in you. Maybe it was some strange frat bro mentality, he didn’t want you but he also didn’t want anyone else to have you? It was all too confusing for 2am.
Maya’s hand is comforting on your back, rubbing circles and trying to alleviate the stress radiating off of you. Guilt is eating at Jake’s stomach and he’s about to spill everything he knows when he hears the glass patio doors opening from behind him.
He turns back and makes eye contact with Bradley, trying to non verbally say “not the time.” But you’ve noticed his presence before Jake can save him.
“Fuck off, Bradley.”
Bradley winces, he deserves your anger.
“Angel, please. Hear me out?” Bradley pleads.
He looks awkward, scratching at the back of his neck, nervous for your answer.
You look to Maya and she shrugs. She thinks you should hear him out, of course she does.
You sigh, “Fine.”
Jake and Maya exchange words silently and move to leave. Jake pats Bradley on the shoulder, he knows how shitty Bradley feels about how tonight went down and he also knows that he’s just been at Bob’s apartment apologising profusely.
Bradley sits down on the bench next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his lap and tuck his chin on top of your head, but he knows that probably wouldn’t go down too well right now.
“I’m so fucking sorry angel.” Bradley breathes out.
You raise your eyebrows, “I don’t get you Bradley!” you huff out, “You walk me home and call me ‘angel’ and you have no concept of personal space but then I see you kissing some girl in the kitchen whilst you’re supposedly getting me a drink and then as soon as I-”
“I wasn’t kissing anyone!” Bradley cuts in, confused.
“Bradley there was only one person in that house wearing a floral button up and he was kissing a girl in the kitchen when I went to check on you.”
Bradley racks his brain for a moment before he realises what you’re talking about.
“Oh shit. Natalie.” Bradley concludes, mostly to himself.
You roll your eyes, “Great to know you caught her name before you let her shove her tongue down your throat.”
Now you knew her name you recognised her, she was in your Eng Lit class. Natalie was gorgeous to make you feel even worse.
“Angel, I didn’t want to kiss her.” Bradley sighs, “she was wasted and pushed herself on me.”
You look at him sadly, wanting so badly to believe him, “really?”
Bradley shuffles closer towards you, placing his hand over yours resting on the faded wood of the bench.
“I wouldn’t lie, angel.” Bradley promises, squeezing your hand.
“Still doesn’t excuse you acting like a fucking neanderthal and punching Robert, he didn’t deserve that. He’s sweet.” You’re not willing to fully forgive him yet.
Bradley feels anxiety pool in his stomach, at the thought of what he’s going to have to say to you.
“I know and I told him how sorry I was. I just, you make me crazy you know?” Bradley laughs out, “the first time I met you, you dropped an encyclopaedia on my hand. Do you remember that?”
You giggle slightly at the memory, “You deserved it.”
“Yeah well the thing is sweetheart, I deserve a lot of shit. I know I kind of fucking suck, but one thing I really don’t deserve is you.” Bradley smiles nervously.
“You’re so smart, and I’m such an idiot because I thought I could try and pretend that I’m not in love with you.”
Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession. He looks pale with anxiety, he doesn’t think he can remember a time where he’d ever been nervous when talking to a girl. But this was so much different. Because it’s you.
Bradley can’t help the word vomit that seems to be pouring out of his lips, “You’re so beautiful, but that’s not the reason I love you. I love how smart you are and how you’re funnier than me and all my friends combined. I love the way you make me feel when I’m with you. I know I’ve probably completely fucked this up tonight but I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
The vulnerability in Bradley’s words makes your heart clench, the way his eyes are staring at you so deeply, shining in the moonlight like he’d do anything for you. You can feel the tears pooling in your lash line.
“Oh Bradley.” You give him a watery smile, reaching your free hand up to cup at his jawline.
“I love you too, you dick.”
Bradley laughs, loud. Relief is sweet but not as sweet as how you look, staring at him with wide eyes and pouted lips.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers.
You nod and surge forward, hands coming to rest around his neck. Bradley pulls you into his lap and connects your lips. He thinks about the cherry chapstick you always carry in your bag and how he can taste it on you now, how soft your lips feel against his. His tongue pushes against your lips tentatively, you grant him access and sigh contentedly at the feeling of him.
One of Bradley’s hands is soft at the back of your head, guiding you against him gently whilst the other is tracing circles against your hips rhythmically. You trace your nails in patterns against the short hair and the back of his head and smile into the kiss as he moans at the feeling.
Bradley goes to deepen the kiss once again but is stopped abruptly by a noise coming from behind him.
“We should check on them, oh-”
You pull back from Bradley sheepishly with a wet saliva caused noise and make eye contact with Maya. Then Jake.
Jake is the first to laugh, “I told you they’d be fine.”
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You wake up before Bradley at noon the next day. You’re lying in his bed draped in a large t-shirt of his.
The sun is streaming through his thin curtains and you’ve been swapping your gaze between a shirtless Bradley and something that caught your eye on his bedside table.
Bradley begins to stir with an aggressive yawn and stretch that almost wipes you out. You whack his arm out of your face and lean down kiss his forehead.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.” You giggle.
Bradley groans and smushes his face into your boobs,
“I’m tired.” he mumbles, muffled.
You thread a hand through his curls and speak tentatively,
“I have a question.”
Bradley sits up at that, moving so he can look at you properly.
“When did you get this?” You reach for the book on his bedside table, it’s a copy of Wuthering Heights with an old receipt sticking out at around the half way mark being used in place of a proper bookmark.
Bradley’s cheeks flush slightly, “Like, I don’t know. Maybe a few days after that first session in the library.”
Your cheeks hurt from trying to suppress your smile. You reach forward and kiss him sweetly, handing resting on his toned chest.
When you pull back he chuckles, “I wanted to impress you.”
“That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Bradley cackles at your emission until he realises how deadly serious you’re being.
“Angel.. we need to change that.” He smiles, lifting at the hem of his shirt on your frame.
You hum and connect your lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he begins to pull at the t-shirt.
You separate for a moment to let him pull it off you fully. On reaction your hands reach up to cover yourself but Bradley catches them before you get the chance. He manoeuvres you so that he’s now the one on top and stares down at you hungrily.
“Jesus christ, angel.”
His hands reach for you breasts, squeezing them appreciatively. His thumbs flick over your pebbled nipples, smirking upon seeing how you preen into his touch, back arching up off of the bed.
Bradley moves to kiss down from your lips to you collarbones, paying specific attention to your pulse point, tongue lathing at where he sucked a mark too harshly. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, straining against his boxers, at the sounds of your little whimpers and moans.
Bradley attaches his lips to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue in circles, revelling at how your breath hitches.
“Fuck, please Brad,” you whimper from underneath him.
He unlatches his lips and rests his head on your stomach.
“What do you need angel? Anything.” He promises.
Your teeth bite into your bottom lip as you consider, “your mouth?”
Bradley smiles at your request and shucks the covers off from his back, he moves down the bed slightly and sits back on his knees. His hands reach forward to grasp at your panties, pulling them down your legs. You lift your hips to aid him and giggle at how he holds them appreciatively once they’re off.
“These are cute.” He admits.
“Thanks, babe.” You giggle, make a mental note to tell Maya.
“But this. This is fucking incredible.”
Bradley lifts your legs over his shoulders, head dipping down to look at your pussy. He blows a cool breath onto your glistening folds and smirks at how your squirm at the feeling.
“Does me reading seriously make you this soaked?” Bradley chuckles.
You buck your hips up and whine, “yes! It’s cute you wanted to impress me.”
Bradley laughs and decides to put and end to your waiting, licking a stripe up your folds. The sound you make is music to his ears. He swirls his tongue around your clit, arms holding your thighs from closing around his head.
He licks at you languidly and moans against your pussy, “you taste amazing.”
Bradley’s words make you whimper, a shiver of arousal running down your spine.
“Keep going, baby please.”
Bradley’s tongue dips into your hole, fucking into you for a moment before coming back up to swirl at your clit. He’s moaning almost as much as you, the vibrations making your hips jerk up against his hold. You reach a hand down to grab at his hair making Bradley whimper. The noise shocks you slightly and makes you gush, pleasing Bradley to no end.
He sucks at your clit, spurred on by your hand grasping at his curls.
“Fuck, I’m close Brad please.��� You whimper out.
Bradley flicks at your clit once more then pulls away, tongue poking out to lick at your juices that have accumulated around his chin.
You whine at the loss of contact and the pout on your lips almost makes Bradley cave, before he speaks up again.
“I want to feel you around me angel.”
You shiver at his words and nod, pulling him up by his chin to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you can tell he knows it too by the way he smiles against your lips.
He pulls back only to reach for a condom from a drawer in his bedside table. He hands it to you to open whilst he pulls off his boxers. Although, you’re sort of hypnotised by how handsome he looks in the sunlight peaking in through his cheap curtains. His skin is tan and he has a few moles dotted around his chest, but most importantly there’s a sprinkling of dark hair that spans from between his pecs all the way down into his happy trail. When you catch sight of his cock your mouth waters slightly and Bradley laughs.
“It’s rude to stare, angel.”
“It’s rude that half the girls on this campus have seen the snake between your legs, Bradley.”
He snorts at you short streak of jealousy and moves to cup your cheeks with his hands.
“You’re the only one for me, angel.”
He sighs against your lips as he feels your small hands wrap around his dick. He looks down and groans loudly at the sight of you slowly stroking him before ripping open the condom he had given to you.
You let go of him so that he can roll the condom down his length, shuffling down so you can lie with your head resting against the pillows. Bradley sits on his knees between your thighs, staring down at you intensely.
“You’re so beautiful, angel.”
He leans down to connect your lips quickly and pulls back only slightly so he can watch your features as he guides his cock towards your entrance, dripping in arousal.
He pushes in slowly, smirking as you whimper quietly. You roll your eyes at his expression and whisper into his ear,
“Fuck me like you mean it, Bradshaw.”
Bradley laughs and hikes your legs up higher around his waist. He plunges into you without warning, revelling in how you squeak in surprise. His thrusts are deep and calculated, hitting at the right spot almost every time.
You moan out gutturally, “shit, right there Brad.”
The way his name rolls off your lips make Bradley grunt in pleasure, speeding up his thrusts if even possible. You feel incredible around him, squeezing at him just right. Bradley continues his ministrations but reaches a hand down to toy at your clit, smirking at how your moans increase in pitch. He makes circles around the bundle of nerves and feels his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your walls are pulsing against him.
You reach a hand down over Bradley’s to swirl at your clit, he groans loudly at the sight, head dropping down to stare at where he’s fucking in and out of you. He moans a little pathetically but can’t feel it within himself to be embarrassed when you tighten so deliciously around him.
“I’m really close, angel.” He groans, leaning down to breathe into your neck.
“Me too, baby.” You whine, kissing the top of his head, “please cum for me, Bradley.”
Your words were all Bradley needed to reach his peak. His hips stutter against yours as he spurts into the condom and the feeling combined with your fast swirls against your clit shoots white hot pleasure through you, pushing you over the precipice as well.
Bradley is a panting mess above you, his skin sticking to yours with sweat. He pulls out of you slowly and ties off the condom. When he flops down next to you, you kiss all over his face, squealing when he grabs your face and smushes your lips together. He pulls away from you and stares at you in your sweaty post sex glow and smiles.
You catch his eyes and hum, “you’re so pretty, Bradley.”
His lips quirk as he reaches to stroke his thumb over you cheek.
“I’ve not heard that one before.”
Bradley eventually ventures downstairs to retrieve you a glass of water and makes eye contact with Reuben as he goes to ascend the stairs again.
Reuben flips him the bird without looking, “you’re fucking loud bro.”
Bradley can’t find it in himself to care.
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No one is more surprised on Monday morning than Professor Clarke when he sees you walk into his lecture hall with Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your waist, your usual large tote bag now slung over his shoulder.
He watches in amusement for the hour as you note diligently and raise you hand as usual, however there was now the addition of Bradley. Pointing at your notes when he wanted something explaining or whispering something in your ear after you made a good point that makes you smile.
Professor Clarke finds it sweet, albeit slightly confusing considering the tension that surrounded the two of you when you’d been introduced.
Once your class has finished Bradley helps you pack your things up before putting your bag over his shoulder once again,
“You know I can carry my own bag?” You tease, poking at his bicep.
“Then how will everyone know you have a super strong and handsome boyfriend?” Bradley rolls his eyes playfully.
As you’re descending the stairs you spot someone walking towards you and Bradley from the corner of your eye.
“Natalie, hi.” Bradley speaks awkwardly, placing a comforting hand on your waist.
“Hi Bradley… I just wanted to apologise, I was fucking wasted on Friday and I didn’t realise you have a girlfriend and I should have read your texts properly and I’m really embarrassed to be honest,” she chuckles out awkwardly.
You smile at the girl, sensing her guiltiness. You look to Bradley who has a small smile on his face as well.
“It’s cool,” Bradley speaks truthfully.
She nods and sends you another apologetic smile before making her own exit from the classroom.
Once she’s out of earshot you turn to Bradley,“That was nice of her,”
Bradley nods and threads his hand in yours, leading you down the rest of the stairs. As you walk past Professor Clarke’s desk he calls out your name. He gestures down to where you’re holding hands with Bradley and jests,
“I’ll admit this was the last outcome I was expecting when I asked you to tutor Bradley here.”
You can feel Bradley’s smirk from next to you and roll your eyes, “He’s not so bad.”
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a/n: HERE SHE IS LADIES AND GENTS!!!!! fratboy!brad and his angel 😭😭😭
my apologies for how sucky he gets BUT HE MAKES UP FOR IT PROMISE
also apologies for making him deck bob LMFAO
as always i love to hear feedback so pls comment, reblog or send me an ask and tell me what you think!
thank u for reading!!!
- honey <333
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thewulf · 3 months
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My Treasure || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
Summary: Request - I need a Bradley x reader or Jake x reader based on the quote, “I can’t keep being your second choice, not when you’re my first.” Some angst to fluff goodness maybe
A/N: Ahh thank you for the request! You guys always have the best. Hope you enjoy some good old angst/fluff! Hope you guys enjoy :)
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N
Word Count: 1.7k +
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Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you watched the small tea candle burn out without a trace of Bradley. It was the sixth time in as many nights that he had let you down. He’d promised you he would be home tonight in time for dinner. You’d gotten ready, decided to look cute for him and cooked his favorite meal. You were excited at the thought of reconnecting with your long-time boyfriend. It had gotten hard before, sure, but this distance was like nothing you’d felt before in the years you had been together. It felt like your worst fears were coming true, he was pulling away from you. Planning to leave you.
With a huff you left the uneaten food on the table for him to see when he got home. You weren’t planning to be there. You called your mom with tears flowing letting her know you were planning to stay with her for the next few nights. She didn’t question a thing and told you your room would be ready. She’d have time to pester later, you needed her not to right now.
In a rush you through your clothes haphazardly into an overnight bag. You’d have to figure out your living situation later. In your haste you hadn’t heard the front door open and close. Or his curse downstairs. Nor his heavy footsteps on the stairs as he walked up to your shared bedroom. You’d only noticed him when he placed a hand on your shoulder sending you into a slight panic as he startled you.
His head cocked to the side in confusion seeing you bag, “Hon, what’re you doing?” He squatted so he was eye level with you.
“To my mom’s.” You turned back to your packing doing your best to ignore the confused man who really shouldn’t be giving you the look he was, or you were going to snap. How could he not have a clue?
He knew he had messed up when you shrugged off his touch, “Why would you do that? We have to eat the dinner you made.”
You shook your head, “It’s cold Bradley.”
He scrunched his nose looking over at you, “I can warm it up hon.” He tried to offer a simple solution to the scowl you were giving off to him.
“That’s not the point.” You were biting your tongue and even he knew that. He wasn’t that clueless, and you knew that.
“I’m sorry I was late… time just got away from us…” He paused seeing you weren’t listening to him. You were going to snap, and you knew it. Why was he out if he knew he was supposed to be home tonight? Why didn’t he seem to care about you?
You looked at him with a sadness he had missed so many times before, “I asked you for one thing Bradley. I’ve asked you for one thing for weeks. I just wanted a night with you.”
He frowned immediately, “I’m so sorry honey. This mission has just been hell. I didn’t want to take it out on you…”
“Then why wouldn’t you just tell me that?” You turned to him, standing now. You were irritated. Tired of second guessing yourself, “I’ve been seemingly by myself for the last four weeks Bradley! Do you know how fucking lonely that is? Do you know how I’ve been rattling my damn brain to try and figure out what the hell was going on with you? Did I do something? I’m tired. I’m going to my mom’s. Now move.” He had stood as you ranted at his inaction. He’d never seen you so agitated and heated. You were his calm and collected girl. He really must’ve done a number on you without even realizing it.
“Baby I’m…” You were in no state to hear him out. You’d made up your mind and that was that.
“I followed you across the country.” You let a tear roll down your cheek, “I thought we’d be happy here. My mom lives here. It’s been nothing short of miserable.” You tried moving around him, but he kept stepping in front of you.
“Move Bradley.” You felt that similar irritation bubble up once more.
He shook his head, “Afraid I can’t honey.”
Letting out a breath of frustration you felt the tears welling up once more, “Move!” You yelled at him when he blocked you once more.
“I’m not letting you drive like this Y/N.” He spoke calm and steady now trying his best to reach you in your distressed state.
“Then leave me alone.” You huffed pushing on his chest trying your best to push him out of the room.
“No, let’s talk about this.”
You let out the sob you’d been holding back before exploding on him. You’d really tried your hardest, but you were tired, and it was hurting you to look at him, “I can’t keep being your second choice, not when you’re my first!” You knew it’d hurt him and that’s exactly what you were aiming for, as much pain as you could inflict. Sure, it was childish. But you finally got your point across.
“Baby no.” He shook his head, “That’s not true. Please don’t say that. Please.” He took a step towards you. But you took a step back. He got the hint and let you be.
“You keep saying things but it’s like you can’t stand me anymore Bradley! I don’t know what I’ve done.” You backed up and sat down on your shared mattress. Leaning down you let your head fall into your hands as you finally let yourself cry it out. You finally let all the emotions you’d been holding back come out fully. You’d been making yourself feel crazy and he hadn’t even had a clue anything was wrong.
You felt his hand on your back as he sat down next to you. The felt the dip of the mattress as he did so. This time you didn’t shrug him off or run away. He wasn’t going to let you. He knew your automatic reaction was to run and hide and deal with it on your own. He promised you he wouldn’t let that happen anymore. He was going to be there for you. In whatever capacity you needed. And now you needed to talk for you’d been keeping it in. Bradley wasn’t clueless but he also wasn’t a mind reader. He never ever dreamed of hurting you. His favorite girl. His favorite human. His very best friend. His heart ached as your body wracked and sobbed. He never wanted to see you cry let alone be the reason for the salty tears.
“I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry I haven’t been around to even notice this. Work has been… tough. I’m not supposed to tell you this but we’re being tasked with a pretty dangerous mission. One that somebody may not come back from. I don’t want to tell you this to freak you out but I’ve been worried. I have to come home to you. I am making sure of that. And I’ve done that by neglecting you. Please, you have to believe me. We’re not out drinking. We’re prepping, strategizing. Trying to figure how in the hell we’re all coming home.” His voice trailed off as your red eyes and cheeks turned up to him in disbelief.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Your voice was horse from the crying you’d allowed of yourself.
“It’s classified.” He answered quickly, “I can’t risk getting you in trouble honey. But I should’ve warned you. I’m so sorry.”
You nodded contemplating his words. You knew he was being nothing but sincere and it was you who was overreacting. A flush of embarrassment rose from your chest as you realized it was a big miscommunication between the two of you. It was odd because you were usually so in sync, but you brushed it off.
“I am too. I’m sorry I overreacted.”
He took your chin in his hands, “You didn’t. You’re just reacting because you care. I’m sorry I pushed you away. You have to know you’re never my second choice. Everything I do is for you. Sometimes I lose sight of it thought.” He smiled sheepishly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. You shuddered over his gentle touch.
“I don’t deserve you.” You mumbled letting your eyes close under his gentle gaze.
He hummed brushing his hands along your lips, “I disagree.”
Your eyes opened to look right into his once more. Even after all this time your heart still hammered in your chest when he looked at you like that, “I love you.”
That smile was one you always adored seeing on him, “And I love you my favorite girl.” He kissed your other cheek this time, “I’m sorry I ignored your asks. It won’t happen again.” He smirked right on over at you. Gosh, he really couldn’t believe he was about to let you slip away without even realizing it. He really needed to pull back at work every now and then. He should’ve known you were too kind to complain about him always being gone. He’d ignored your requests for time alone taking you for granted. You’d used your words like he’d asked, and he still managed to mess it up.
“It’s okay.” You nuzzled your head into his hand enjoying his comfort after being apart for so long. Sure he had been here, but he wasn’t really present.
He shook his head, “It’s really not. I’m lucky to have you honey.” He kissed your forehead slowly. Letting his lips linger as he pulled you into his lap, “I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.” You let your hands trace along his face smiling brightly as he looked down at you.
He let out a long sigh letting himself just hold you in his arms, “My treasure.” He whispered before finally meeting
You giggled more to yourself when your lips parted, “You’re so cheesy Bradley Bradshaw.”
He nodded giving your side a squeeze, “And you love it.”
You let yourself melt into him feeling all the tension release from your body, “That I do.”
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Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem
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(IceMav as Dagger Parents AU) Maverick(hanging up the phone):...Goose says that Natasha, Callie and Bob are welcome to come over, and Jake is welcome to come over as long as he's nice to Bradley and they don't fight and start World War 3. Iceman:...So Jake can't come over. Maverick: Jake can't come over.
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sailor-aviator · 3 months
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I present to you….
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The Three Musketeers
Masterlists and summaries to come soon…
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sunlightmurdock · 27 days
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The Odyssey | 1.5 | Bradley Bradshaw
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Bradley learns that maybe the two of you weren’t on the same page after all.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, nudity, mentions of erections, making out. Semi-oral (f receiving), touching, mentions of sex. Ohhh boy you thought it was all okay. Wc: 5.8k
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It didn’t feel like seven days at the Gabris estate. It felt like so much longer. A whole summer, even. The sunny day down at the lake, and then two whole days of rainstorms, and the day that Teodora showed you how to know which apricots are the sweetest to pick, the day that Zoe twisted her ankle on the crumbling back steps. The night by the piano.
This morning. 
Luke must know where Bradley is, after he didn’t go to their room last night. Maybe he would think Bradley fell asleep in the study, but he isn’t that stupid. 
Of course, Bradley is here with you. He fell asleep here last night, shortly after you had. He’s still asleep now, breathing deeply against the crook of your neck, his thigh slotted between yours and his palm on your stomach.
You haven’t been awake long. 
It’s a warm, sunny morning and you can hear Sandro’s wife singing in the kitchen downstairs. Bradley smells like summer. You twist in his arms and turn your face toward his neck, breathing in the citrus and faint sweat and remainders of his cologne. 
Bradley wakes to the feeling of your lips soft against his neck, and your fingers stroking at the hair at his nape.
Instantly, he realises that he didn’t make it back to his own bed last night, but he can’t find it in himself to mind. His arms snake around your middle and he squeezes you closer. He’s in your room. Not only that, but he’s in your bed. You’re laying on your side, the textbook half squished under you. The two of you fell asleep studying. He’s still fully clothed, and that’s what matters. 
He lifts his arm and squints to check his watch. It’s still early. The two of you slept almost all night. Lowering his wrist, he startles once more to find that your eyes are now open. You blink tiredly at him.
“We fell asleep.” You mumble, barely awake. Your legs stretch out from under you as you push yourself onto your back and inch away from him. You’re close enough that all you can smell is his cologne. Each inhale tempts you towards letting your heavy eyelids just fall shut, letting your cheek rest against the muscle of his shoulder.
“Morning,” You murmur against his neck. 
He kisses lazily at your temple. “Good morning, honey.”
Last night, Bradley had touched you again. The two of you had been sitting on your bed, and you were teaching him the Wall Street way of playing poker — as skilfully learned from your time watching your father — and Bradley had, so crudely, wagered your underwear.
They are laying, discarded, on the floor of your room now. 
It feels good, pretending that none of this matters. That he is allowed to touch you, and lay with you, and kiss you. 
“Did you sleep okay?” One of his palms pressed firmer into the middle of your back, flattening you against his chest as he turns his face  toward your neck. 
“Like the dead.” You mumble against his warm skin, resting your cheek against his clavicle. He hums amusedly.
For a moment, you let it be quiet. He’s still on the cusp of sleep, barely awake and groggy. Your fingers skim up the swell of his bicep and across the scarred skin on his shoulder, onto the muscled plains of his back.
He hums at the feeling, letting you know that he’s enjoying the soft touch. Maybe you’re enjoying it just as much. His skin there is soft, and always warm. You reach for freckles that you can’t see, guided by the ridges of his shoulder blades. 
“I could stay like this forever.” You whisper. He makes a tired sound of agreement as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. 
Sighing as he pulls his hands from his face, he pulls back and lets himself look at you. Settled down against the pillow, just watching him. Studying him.
Eyes heavy and blinking at him. Lips parted just slightly, like you’ve got something to say. The warmth of your skin. The look in your eye. The fact that he knows your underwear are still on the floor.
Bradley moves before he really weighs up what he’s doing. Eclipsing your jaw with his palm, you hold your breath as he leans in and kisses your top lip. 
It’s slow, but the feelings it sends through you aren’t. The soft weight of his chest pressing into yours, just a taste of what the real thing could feel like. 
Another slow kiss, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You comply eagerly, pressing into his touch. His knee slides between yours, finding leverage on the mattress between your thighs.
Your mind skips ahead of you, flooding the darkness behind your eyelids with images of him that night with Natasha. His hands inching along the backs of her bare thighs. The need coursing through them, pressing close to each other with each kiss. 
His warmth is inviting, intoxicating. His palm sits heavy on your cheek as you shuffle impossibly closer to him. He welcomes you against him, covering you with a fraction of his weight. Bradley likes strong women. Experienced women. 
You rush forwards, chasing his mouth, grabbing at his shoulder, tugging him closer. He follows your lead wordlessly, carding his open palm over your hair, teasing his tongue along your lip. 
It occurs to you that this could be the first time that you ever have sex. Everything you’ve been so afraid of. Ashamed of. Enveloped, hidden away by the strong feeling of his hands on your body.
It could happen. All that’s stopping you is his underwear, and the fact that he told you he wouldn’t. But he wants to. He told you he wants to.
A greedy hum passes your lips, caught against his. Your fingers slide from his shoulder into his hair before you can remind yourself that this isn’t right. 
At first, Bradley thinks that he’s imagining things. There’s no way. But then, it happens again just as it had the first time. Your hips shift at just the right angle — the third time is just too much for it to be a coincidence, you’re grinding against his thigh.
A low grumble fights its way from his chest and into his throat, his hands sprinting for you like the snap of a rubber band, grabbing you tightly by your hips. It crosses his mind that he’s moving too fast and considers pulling back to check. Before his mind can land on an answer, your hand tousles into his curls and grabs firmly.
Even all of those too-big shirts he wears, nothing could really hide the fact that Bradley just remains to be a big guy. Tall, wide shoulders, long legs and a strong middle. He reminds you of his strength, dragging you against him by your hips. The brown hair that dusts his thigh brushes the inside of your thighs, the apex of your legs.
“How’s that?” Bradley asks as his thumb brushes a strand of hair back off of your temple. 
Heat flushes instantly across your face. Bradley sees it in the calculated way that your eyes widen just slightly. The way he feels your fingers flex at the nape of his neck.
“It’s fine.” You bite back. Bradley should have known that even in a time like this, you would still be fighting him for the upper hand. Not tonight, honey. His words cross your mind, this time tinged with the resentment and shame your mind has coated them in. 
You’re certain that he hasn’t ever told Natasha no in her entire life.
He trails his tongue along the seam of your lips, slow and soft, then brushes forwards and captures your mouth into a bruising kiss. He barely even pulls back to speak, his lips brushing yours. “Tell me what you want.” 
You whimper. His massive hands and their hold on your hips, rocking you against the denim of his jeans. It’s impossible to think straight. “I don’t know.”
“I know what I want.” Bradley tells you, tucking his thumb under your chin and angling your jaw so that he can bite at your throat. The action has you keening against him, eagerly following the direction of his thumb so that his mouth can reach more of your throat.
 It’s cruel honestly, everything he’s doing to you. He’s the first man to tell you that he wants you. Not because you’ve been together a while and it’ll happen eventually. Because he thinks you’re sexy. He’s attracted to you. He wants you. And fuck, his voice is so deep. “Tell me what you want.”
“I — Bradley, I don’t —“ You sigh, huffing a deep and frustrated noise as he sucks warmly at your skin. “I want you to touch me… I think.”
“You think?” Bradley’s hand sits against the backside of your thigh, warm, his long fingers splayed out along your skin. His lips barely have to move before he’s sucking at your neck. His warm mouth, languid against your skin. Swiftly, he curls his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips and tugs you against him, working you against his thigh.
The friction ignites something. Something you’ve felt before. The kindling is hot but it’s all white smoke for now. Blinking, you stare up at him with a decision to make. He squeezes your hips.
“I do. I do want you to touch me.”
The expectation is that he’ll pull back and tear your nightdress up out of his way and have his way with you. Bradley nips at your throat compliantly, kissing his way down your jaw and your throat.
He tips you onto your back and follows suit, settling between your thighs. The morning sun covers him in gold, from the flecks in his irises and the strands in his curls to the tanned swell of his shoulders. He mouths at your collarbones, following the sweetheart neckline of your nightie, palming at your thighs.
A moan tangles from your lips as he flattens himself against your body, his bulge between your legs and his hot chest against your skin. 
Bradley dips his hand between your bodies and feels you finally. He sighs against your chest, smiling. “Oh, honey.” 
Your heartbeat thuds. His fingers graze your swollen clit and you jolt a bit, otherwise stuck to the spot by his weight. 
“No wonder you want me right here,” He murmurs, gathering your excitement on the tips of his fingers. “All worked up. Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”
You drop your head back onto the pillows, feeling electricity rush through your middle as Bradley circles your clit with a featherlight touch. A whimper slips your mouth despite your best efforts, despite your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
“I want to do it.” 
And then you have his attention. He looks up at you, his face stark and the smugness that had settled there all gone.
“Yeah?” He swallows, so hard already that he’s aching. Far from in the mind space to really disagree with you. His brows draw together. “It?” 
This time yesterday, you probably would have said no. Maybe even last night, you would have. 
This morning, it’s a breathless and desperate, “Yes.”
“I don’t —“ Bradley squeezes at your thigh and shakes his head. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“It’s just one step further than this,” You tell him, convincing yourself as much as you’re convincing him. “Doesn’t make it any different. It doesn’t change what we’ve already done, right?”
In these past seven days, Malcolm has never felt as far away. After what he did, what he must have done, you’ve never felt as far from him as you do now. He’s probably been looking for a phone number to contact you, and you’re glad that he hasn’t found one.
You don’t want to speak to him. In this moment, all that you want is right in front of you.
“But…” He swallows thickly, trying not to be driven by how badly he wants this. He taps his thumb against your chin. “You’re — You’re sure, this is what you want?”
“Uh-huh.” 
He hesitates, planting a hand into the pillow beside your head. His face is knotted up and unsure. A week ago you had been crying in his arms after the biggest betrayal of your life. This can’t be the right thing to do.
He glances down, feeling your fingers brushing along the ridges of his abdomen. 
Your lip throbs with the weight of your teeth pressing into it as your fingers dip into the waistband of his white boxer shorts. Bradley’s breath catches as your fingers wrap around his hardened length.
“Please?”
A deep sound passes his lips. How’s a guy supposed to say no to that? He leans in slowly, capturing your lip between his, his tense body melting against yours.
He groans as he pulls away from your mouth and moves downward. Your hand slips from his underwear and finds purchase against his shoulder.
 He kisses down your cheek and your jaw, spilling dirty kisses along the naked span of your chest as far as the nightgown will let him as his hands bunch at the bottom hem of it.
Your mouth hangs as he hunches over and pins your thighs back.
Glistening in the warm glow of the room, you writhe and wriggle beneath Bradley as his strong hands pin you down, lazily swirling his tongue along your puffy, swollen clit. 
“I said — I want—“ You stumble, your brows knitting together.
“I know what you want,” Bradley interrupts, turning his head and kissing at your thigh, silencing you all together as he looks up at you with those big brown eyes. “There’s no rush. Right?”
You guess not. You don’t have time to guess at much before his broad shoulders force apart your thighs and his hot mouth blanks your mind.
A whine spills from somewhere deeper in your throat, coming right from the pit of your stomach. Bradley’s messy with his work, lapping eagerly between your legs as his middle finger teases at your dripping pussy. He hasn’t ever done it like this.
 It’s more desperate now, but like it’s easy for him, like he knows you. His chin drips with your excitement, leaving your thighs sticky and dampened with slick and saliva.
His hand slips between his hips and the mattress, wrapping loosely around his cock over his boxers, grinding his hips into his hand.
And then, three knocks rattle the heavy, old door to your right. 
Bradley stops, and sits back on his knees at once. Your face is colorless, eyes wide and round. He runs a hand over his wet mouth, and turns his head towards the sound.
“Fuck.” He exhales, his lips hinting at a smile. As much as he should look just as scared shitless as you do, something in him finds this a little bit funny.
He’s expecting it to be your new best buddies, wanting you to come down to breakfast with them. Already deciding that he can handle hiding behind the door while you get rid of them, Bradley couldn’t be cooler.
Three more knocks rattle the old door on its hinges, and Sandro calls out from the other side. “Bradley?” 
Instantly, the smile is wiped from Bradley’s face. 
You scramble to cover yourself and close your legs and move, not quite as aware of your surroundings as you could be. As Bradley goes to move at the same time, your knee lifts and catches him squarely in the balls.
Sandro pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he hears a loud, strained grunt come from inside.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I didn’t—“
Bradley lifts his face out of the pillow and swallows as he adjusts himself, exhaling heavily. “It’s fine. Fuck— what the hell is the matter with him?”
Matter with him in the sense that he is impolite enough to know exactly where Bradley is, and what that must mean, and to be knocking on the door anyway.
You watch as Bradley stumbles to his feet, clearly wounded, still clutching at his manhood as he picks up his jeans. 
“You can’t — you’re going to answer the door?” You panic. 
“What else do you want me to do? Hide?” He huffs, struggling to pull his jeans up his legs and button them.
“You could go out the window.” 
He shoots you a look, entirely unimpressed. You open your mouth to protest, left with no time to do anything but squeak softly in defeat as he pulls open the door an inch, blocking it with his body.
“What?” 
Sandro presses his lips together. He looks Bradley up and down. Disheveled, his curls a mess and still naked from the navel upward.
“There’s someone on the phone for you.” Sandro explains quietly. Bradley’s brows knit together as he starts to wonder who could possibly be trying to reach him this early in the morning. “Her father. I believe.” 
A quiet gasp comes from behind the door. Bradley closes it a little more, slotting himself into the gap.
“Cool. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure. He sounds upset.” Sandro lifts his palms and shrugs as he takes a step back from the door, his mouth twitching. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Ha. Ha.” Bradley answers, unimpressed.
He swings the door shut, and flattens himself back against the wood as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. You remain in the middle of the bed, your knees tucked up to your chest, your hand covering your mouth.
“Fuck me.” Bradley sighs, leaning his head back against the door. He stretches his hand into the pocket of his jeans and plucks his cigarettes from the pocket, shaking his head. “Does he have a monitor on you that I don’t know about?”
He almost makes you smile, but you’re wincing as you slip out of bed and stand up. 
“Let me speak with him,” You offer, walking nervously toward him. “He’s just going to be rude if he’s asking for you. I’ll handle it.” 
“And miss out on telling him what an incredible morning we had?” Bradley jokes, unlit cigarette wobbling between his lips as he steps around you and reaches for his shirt. You stumble mid-step, practically pouncing on him as you grab at his arm.
“No! You can’t tell him anything.” You plead.
Bradley turns and looks at you over his shoulder, brows furrowed in disbelief. 
“Believe it or not, honey — I’m not itching to have that talk with your dad. I was kidding.” He scoffs, pulling his t-shirt over his head and running his fingers messily through his hair. “You should pack your stuff. I’ll… see you later.”
“Wait!” You frown at him. “But we were…”
Bradley seems to remember his moment of insanity then — of how close he was to actually doing it just a moment ago, and blinks at you. He plucks the cigarette from his lips and leans forward to leave a passive kiss to your temple.
“Another time,” He sets it between his lips again and digs his left hand into his pocket for a lighter. “Gotta go.”
Another time. Gotta go. The door swings shut behind him and the smell of burning tobacco fills your nose as he light’s the cigarette out in the hallway. You hate that smell. You hate how casually he just moved on from that. And oh, you could kill Alessandro. 
“Hello?” Bradley pins the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he pulls the ashtray from the window ledge and flicks the tip of his cigarette toward it.
“That’s how you answer the phone? — You don’t introduce yourself, or ask who you’re speaking with? Mumbling over there—“
Bradley perches against the window and sets his cigarette back between his lips. “I know who I’m speaking with. Sir. How can I help you?” 
“I want to know what kind of operation you’re running over there. There’s no contact number for this place anywhere on the itinerary, and then when I do finally track down a number, I spend two days calling and get nothing but a dead line!”
“We had some bad weather, unfortunately it knocked out the power. Just got it back on last night, actually.” Bradley explains calmly. 
“And you think that’s acceptable? — What if it was an emergency?”
“Was it?” Bradley prompts. Maybe he has a little bit of an attitude, but he doesn’t like the way your father talks to people.
“You think you’re funny, son?”
No, generally Bradley doesn’t think that he’s too funny. He’s a lot of things, and he’s got a good sense of humour but he’s not funny like Robin Williams or Chevy Chase. But, Bradley’s got a special knack for always being able to get the last word.
“I think the house is five hundred years old and has some pretty questionable wiring. Was there something you needed me for?” 
“You know that I can have you fired?”
Bradley leans his head back and thunks it against the window frame. He can’t blame you for the attitude you catch when this is the guy you learned it from.
“In the interest of preserving my good friend’s phone bill, I’m just trying to be… concise, here.” Bradley answers, flicking more ash into the tray. If this phone call keeps going the way that it is, Bradley figures he’ll be chain smoking through until the afternoon.
“My son-in-law has been trying to get through to my daughter. He’s… worried about her. Has she said anything to you?”
Said something pretty interesting to me earlier, Bradley thinks. Right around the time she stuck her hand in my shorts.
“No, sir. Maybe her friends, but not me,” Bradley gives the answer you would want him to give. “We’re headed to Siena this afternoon and the city’s a lot more reliable for communication and stuff. I can have her call you once we’re there?”
“No. Don’t tell her that I called.” Your father decides. Bradley doesn’t mention that you already know, because he was in your room when he was informed. “What’s the number for this place?”
“I don’t have it on me. I can take down your number and I’ll call you from the hotel when we get there.”
“Not very organised for a college professor, are you, champ?”
Bradley wets his lips with his tongue and presses them together. He spends as little time on the phone as he possibly can, resenting your father’s every word. He likes the thought of Malcolm sitting at home and tearing his hair out, worrying.
He likes the thought of that little dirtbag being kept awake at night, terrified that you know what he did and that you’ll leave him. It’s what he deserves.
Bradley likes that you fell asleep in his arms last night, peacefully, and that you woke up this morning and found yourself comfortable enough to ask for what you had. Your fiancé probably didn’t cross your mind.
He goes for his morning run a little later than normal, after his phone call, and thinks about what you had said.
He shouldn’t have agreed to it as quickly as he had, maybe. It should have required more thought, and discussion — better place or time, perhaps. 
He had been so adamantly against it, but this is starting to feel different. It’s more than a few kisses here and there. It’s Bradley enjoying feeling your weight in his arms when he sleeps, and looking forward to your smile when he wakes up.
It’s better, with him. Your first time would be better with him — and he doesn’t even mean that in an overconfident way. He just knows that he and Malcolm are far from the same, and that Malcolm could never treat you the way that Bradley does so naturally.
Bradley decides that he won’t initiate anything other than a discussion on the topic of sex. As much as he does want it, he could go for months without it. And this has to be your call. But, he doesn’t want to know what sparked the idea into your head this morning.
If you ask him again, he already knows that he would do it.
By the time he has finished with your father and with his run, it’s almost time to go. The group of eight of you are spread around the mini-can, bags loaded and waiting for Bradley while Pasquale sits in the front. It’s a really short drive today. Just over an hour to the other side of the city.
“Did anyone else get their assignments back late all the time?” Abigail muses as she lays across the three backseats of the van. You’re sitting a row in front of her, fiddling with your Walkman.
“Even when I was TA’ing, and I’d get my grading in on time, Bradley still gave everyone their results back like a week later.” Robin agrees.
“Yeah, ‘cause he was too busy slipping it to Miss Penny all year.” Luke scoffs without looking up from his chapter on bathhouses, his arms stretched around Robin’s middle as she sits on his lap. 
Instinct almost has you whipping around to look at him. Common sense has you gripped to the spot, staring at the little plastic contraption . You blink furiously at the cassette tape in front of you.
Miss Penny. Who the hell is Miss Penny? Granted, you hadn’t spent too much time wandering the humanities building, but you’re affronted to not be able to picture this mystery woman nonetheless.
“No— Miss Penny? No. Please, like Bradley would ever tell you who he’s screwing.” August — Gus —, the only other guy in your little group of eight, scoffs towards Luke. He’s standing outside of the van, leaning up against the doorframe.
“And if he was making it with anyone, it was for sure Doctor Hayes. Have you seen the two of them talking? — Man, even I felt the tension.” Zoe decides.
Screwing. Slipping it to. Making it.
And now the introduction of Doctor Hayes. 
At least this woman you have heard of; she’s an anthropology professor, and she certainly wasn’t making it with Bradley — she’s happily involved with a woman.
 It was a big point of conversation in your household. The news came to light just before your father was going to make a donation, she visited him personally to ensure that her romantic indiscretions wouldn’t affect his generosity.
If Bradley wasn’t screwing Doctor Hayes, then he probably wasn’t—
“You’re right, they were probably just friends,” Luke shrugs, again without looking up from the book. It should soothe you, but it doesn’t. It’s an arrogant thing, the way he knows everyone’s waiting on his every word, so he doesn’t have to lift his gaze to engage. “Doesn’t change the fact I saw them going at it in his office.”
 When you look up you’re startled by Robin already looking at you, like she just stole the crayon you’ve been waiting for and she’s waiting for your tantrum to begin.
You glance across at Luke instead, who is still staring smugly at his chapter.
They already think that Bradley is screwing you, maybe they’re making it up to get a reaction. 
You muster the calmest look that you can, and flip back a page in your notes, pretending that you’re reviewing the material.
You haven’t ever been to Bradley’s office. There’s a vague understanding of approximately where it is that comes with having spent four years wandering those halls, but in a pinch you would be guessing at exactly where.
 You don’t know what his desk looks like, or if he’s got one of those frosted glass window panes in the door, or maybe it’s just a heavy wood door without a window.
 Some of the old rooms still have those. They’re heavy and creaky and your daddy’s donations are eradicating them one by one.
Those big, heavy, creaky doors would do wonders for someone in need of privacy. As your eyes fall shut to blink, you’re met with a split-second snapshot of Luke nudging it open. 
After hours, after a day of tough lessons. Bradley all stressed with that red flush across his chest that he gets when stuff is really starting to get to him. Miss Penny, in her mysterious shroud of fog… perched against his desk— or worse— bent over it.
You swallow. 
“No you did not.” Abigail declares with a wrinkled face, not believing the dirty little story for a moment.
You would like to not believe it either. 
“Uh-huh. It was when I was TA’ing, I came by to drop off some papers. She was sat on his desk with her back to the door and he was just—“
“Gross, I don’t want to hear about Bradley getting his rocks off with the librarian.” Zoe complains.
The librarian. Miss Penny is the fucking librarian. She has permed hair and cat-eye glasses, a skirt shorter than faculty standard allows too. She made you pay eight dollars in late fees one time. She’s like a decade older than Bradley, maybe fifteen years. 
Your nose wrinkles as you turn your head to peer in the direction of the kitchen. Why her? Why—
“Alright, everybody ready to go?” Bradley has said his long goodbyes to the Gabris family, always wishing he got longer with them, even if Sandro did cockblock him this morning.
He climbs into the passenger seat as an awkward silence fills the van. Everyone takes their seats and stares ahead at him. He turns his head to peer back over his shoulder, frowning in confusion.
“What?”
“Nothing, man,” Luke answers coolly as Robin slides into the seat next to him. “You’re paranoid.”
Another time. Gotta go. You bet he was that casual with Miss Penny, too. With however many other women he might have been with. You set your headphones over your ears and turn toward the window. 
It’s ridiculous, maybe, to be jealous of women that knew Bradley far before you could ever stand to be in the same room as him. But this isn’t jealousy, per se. It’s something else. You don’t doubt that Miss Penny didn’t mean much to him, you just… were hoping that you meant more, maybe. 
The drive is short, and you’re piling into another old, crumbling hotel on the outskirts of Siena as the sun is just starting to set. You follow the crowd into the lobby and Bradley starts his normal routine of collecting the keys.
At first, you’re chatting with Zoe, and nothing feels different. Then, you catch something in your peripheral. Glancing down, your eyes widen and your train of thought ventures away.
“My ring.” You realise, setting your suitcase down on the faded carpet of the lobby. Bradley turns around, and finds you staring at your bare hand. 
“I don’t have my ring.” You haven’t worn that thing since the first day you got there. Bradley has noticed every single day that you haven’t had it. 
“What?” Pasquale frowns, looking between you and your hand.
“My engagement ring!” You snap at him. Everyone, at once, stops to look. Bradley stares at you. “I don’t— I must have left it! We have to go back.”
“Jesus Christ.” Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes as he drops down onto the couch. He figures he could be here a while, while you’re descending into hysterics.
After speaking to your father, Bradley figured he knows why you’re so upset. If you come home without that thing, he would give you the worst lecture known to man, or worse than that, even.
“I’ll call Sandro, and see—“ He takes two steps towards you, his face soft.
“No, I need to get it back. Now. We have to go back.”
“Mr. Bradshaw has a meeting here tomorrow, very early.” Pasquale chips in from beside you.
“I don’t care! I can’t believe I left it— Malcolm’s going to kill me if I tell him I don’t have it. What am I supposed to tell him? — That I took it off?”
You’re not thinking about your father, or getting into trouble with him. Bradley stops moving. You’re thinking about your fiancé. 
Bradley has been comforting you, and singing to you, and kissing you for a week straight — not once thinking that you might one day want to wear that ring again. 
This morning, he had been fooling himself on his run, thinking that this was anything more than fooling around. That he meant anything to you at all. That you understood him. 
He stares at you, finding none of those feelings he had thought you felt this morning. Or last night, or this whole past week.
Nothing but blind panic, because you weren’t smart enough to double check you had everything.
“Didn’t you?” Robin asks.
“Just for a second! I— I — didn’t mean to.” You struggle, eyes wide and fleeting between Bradley and Pasquale.
That’s not true. You took it off because he hurt you. You haven’t worn it in seven days. You didn’t even think about it this morning when you had packed your things, or before that when Bradley had been in your bed.
You’re growing agitated, and so is Bradley. A muscle in his jaw ticks. You meant to take off that ring, and maybe you can’t admit to yourself that you meant to leave it behind. 
“Maybe they could mail it—“ Pasquale tries.
“Do you seriously expect me to go home without it?” You’re looking at Bradley still, like this is his fault somehow. Like he’s the one who took it off of your finger. Your expression turns cold. “That ring is worth more than you make in a year!”
Bradley’s expression flattens. No hurt, no anger. Just pure detachment. He holds his hand out towards Pasquale.
“Give me the keys.”
“But, Bradley, you have—“
“Give me the fucking keys,” Bradley snaps. Zoe flinches at your side, and you feel her looking at you. Pasquale awkwardly drops the keys into Bradley’s open palm. “I’m going to get the ring, if it’ll shut her up.”
Your mouth closes, lips pressing firmly together. 
“I’ll—“
“You stay right there.” Bradley bites. He can’t think of anything worse than being stuck in a van with you for the next two and a half hours. Without looking, he squeezes the keys into his palm and heads for the door. 
With him gone, you’re the only thing for them all to look at. 
None of them knew exactly what was going on between you and Bradley this whole time, but they’re all certain of the same thing now: whatever it was, they all just witnessed the end of it.
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tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @sugarcoated-lame @mshistorylover
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jupitercomet · 1 year
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐮𝐧
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summary - Bradley Bradshaw has one goal as he finishes his junior year of college - get Makayla Cunningham to be his girlfriend. Because Makayla Cunningham is exactly the kind of girl a guy like Bradley Bradshaw deserves. There's just one problem, Makayla is adamant that Bradley is a bad boyfriend. If he wants to win her over, Bradley has to prove he can keep a girlfriend of Makayla's choosing for the entire summer. It's just his luck that girl is his little sister's best friend.
warnings - college au, frat boy Bradley (Bradley’s frat is completely fictional and in no way meant to reference any existing frats), language, fluff, angst, light smut, Bradley is 22 and reader is 19, no use of y/n, Bradley is 6'6" because I said so, chapter specific
this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact
last updated - 8/16/23
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main series;
chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight chapter nine chapter ten chapter eleven chapter twelve chapter thirteen chapter fourteen ...
extra;
blurb one makayla face claim bradley mood board everyone's major playlist
spin-offs;
the real thing (a jake seresin spin-off) the what if (a bob floyd spin-off)
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join my Bradley Bradshaw taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold
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The San Diego Dogfighters
(A TGM Hockey!AU)
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Header by @bobgasm 💚🩶💛
The NHL just had an expansion to create a new ice hockey team which resulted in the brand new San Diego Dogfighters.
Team Name: San Diego Dogfighters
Team Colors: Kale, Ultimate Gold, Antique Gold
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Owner: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky
General manager: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson
Head Coach: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell
Assistant Coach: Daredevil/Dare Mitchell
Players:
Centre/Captain: Jake Seresin #86
Left Defenseman/Alternate Captain: Bradley Bradshaw #84
Right Defenseman/Alternate Captain: Javy Machado #68
Left Winger: Reuben Fitch #45
Right Winger: Mickey Garcia #42
Goalie: Bob Floyd #35
Equipment Manager: Natasha Trace
Team Physician: Bugs/Bunny
Team Nutritionist: Penny Benjamin
Athletic Trainer: Bernie “Hondo” Coleman
Goalie Development Coach: Dragon/Dragonfly/Puff Simpson
Social Media Manager: TBA
PR Representative: Zamboni/Honey
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Non-Staff Characters
Charlie
Tucker
Roadie/Meep
Josie “Jo” Fitch
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Snitches Get Stitches (Jake Seresin x TeamPhysician!Reader) COMPLETED
You Catch More Bees With Honey (Bradley Bradshaw x PRRepresentative!Reader) COMPLETED
False Confidence (Javy Machado x KindergartenTeacher!Reader) ONGOING
The Long Game (Pete Mitchell x AssistantCoach!Reader) UPCOMING
Don’t Wake the Dragon (Bob Floyd x GoalieCoach!Simpson!Reader) UPCOMING
Muscle Memory (Mickey Garcia x SportsReporter!Reader) UPCOMING
Character’s Ages in the SDD Universe
The SDD Universe in Chronological Order
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Important note: I’ve been made aware of the accidental similarities between this AU and “On the Ice” by @cassiemitchell and we’ve talked things out, please go check out her AU for more TGM hockey content! We’ll be working together from here on out to keep similarities from escalating
This AU was inspired by talented authors like Emily Rath and her series “Pucking Around” and Becka Mack and her “Consider Me” series just to name a few. They’re amazing authors and I would recommend their books for anyone wanting more hockey romance goodness
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Ruthie’s Ice Hockey 101
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My work cross-posted on AO3
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A/N: A first look at the Dogfighters team roster!! I’ll be revealing the players one by one and potentially also going into details for members of staff that I’ve already announced! As for a logo and/or mascot I’m gonna need more time to figure those out because I’m not an artist by any means but I’d love to design both of those.
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topguncortez · 1 month
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Slap Shot || A Hockey AU
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Jake Seresin, first round draft pick to the North Island Daggers. Possibly the best defensemen of his time. Breaking records in both the franchise and the league. Hot tempered and the biggest playboy in the National Hockey League.
Y/N L/N, new public relations hire for the North Island Daggers. Her job is simple, show the behind the scenes of the North Island Daggers and help boost their home crowd attendance.
But what happens when the Playboy King of the NHL finds himself in the middle of a PR nightmare and the only one who can help him is the new hire who can't stand the sight of him.
warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, smut, angst, enemies to lovers, work place harassment, misogyny, mentions of cheating, mentions of stalking.
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teaser | coming soon. . .
prologue | coming soon. . .
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playlist | taglist form
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bradshawssugarbaby · 26 days
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Girl, You're My Angel - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley Bradshaw's a down on his luck first baseman in the MLB, struggling to find his stride in the game he loves so much. A wedding invite from his ex-wife is enough to convince him to go for a drink, trying to forget about everything going on. He wasn't banking on meeting you though.
pairing: baseball!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)
warnings/content: baseball au, mentions of divorce, smoking, alcohol, reference to drunk driving, bar fight, mentions of blood, Bradley having a dirty mind.
word count: 3k.
taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted
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The booming bass drum of a classic rock song thumped in your head as you gripped the cocktail glass in your hand. The liquid sloshed around in the glass as you danced, swaying to and fro with your best friends, trying your best to enjoy yourself on your girls’ night out. Your finals had just wrapped up, and you were this much closer to earning your masters, the only thing standing between you and getting that embossed sheet of paper, was your grades. To unwind after the cram sessions you’d mustered your way through for the past month, your friends dragged you out to some new amusement bar in the Gaslamp Quarter. 
Across the bar, on the other side of the room, stood Bradley Bradshaw, a once promising baseball star who now, had earned himself a reputation as the MLB’s resident asshole - unable to take criticism or a loss without lashing out at someone. His recent stunt involved hurling his baseball bat across the diamond when he struck out in practice, frustrated with his sudden lack of skill, a skill that once came so naturally to him when his mind wasn’t preoccupied. 
The invitation had come in the mail two days before the bat throwing incident. His ex-wife, the one who left him two and a half years ago, was remarrying the fucking prick she cheated on Bradley with. The invite had come completely out of the blue, and when Bradley opened it, he felt all of the air leave his lungs as his fingers traced over the gold embossed lettering, donning her name and the name of her new fiancé. He’d never admit it to anyone, but that single piece of cardstock had been enough to reduce him to tears, slumping down the kitchen wall as he hugged his knees to his chest, crying loud enough that it made him thankful he had no neighbours near by.
Bradley had pulled himself together, lit a cigarette from the pack he’d been nursing for the last few months, reserved only for social events and times of pure stress, and got in his vintage Ford Bronco, his first purchase when he signed his first contract. Taking a drag from the cigarette, his brown eyes scanned over San Diego’s downtown core as he cruised past a few of the typical nightlife spots - each one a little too public for what he wanted. All other options exhausted, he pulled up outside of a newer bar that had opened the previous week, neon lights advertising an arcade on one side and drinks on the other. 
He figured if nothing else, a couple of rounds of Pac-Man on an old video game after a handful of beers might do him good. He could leave the Bronco parked there and walk to the hotel around the corner, and forget about how his ex-wife’s wedding was coming up in six months, how she’d had the audacity to invite him to see her marrying the guy he’d walked in on her with.  
He sidled up to the bar, nodding his head to the bartender in thanks as he ordered himself a beer. Standing across from him was a group of women, not much younger than him, gossiping and giggling together. He sized the group up, thinking to himself that maybe a one-night deal was what he needed to take his mind off his ex. 
You were the tallest girl of the group, with bright eyes, and hair brushed back in a sleek, high ponytail, sporting a form-fitting cocktail dress that made Bradley’s heart race when he saw you. He pounded back the rest of his beer, trying to find his confidence in himself once again in the comfort of the drink. 
Bradley set his empty bottle down on the bar top before walking his way around the circular counter. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning in with a broad smile as you looked in his direction. He offered a polite wave of his hand, chuckling awkwardly as he felt his confidence wavering as he spoke to you. 
“Hey, could I buy you a drink? He said simply, his Virginian accent dropping into a thicker drawl than usual.
“I’m good, thanks, still got one,” You held up your half-full glass and shook your head politely, not wanting to reject him too brutally. 
Bradley nodded his head once at you, his smile faltering for a second. He quickly regained himself, smiling once again politely before grabbing himself another beer and heading over to the arcade, resolving that a couple of old-school video games might make his night a little better. 
It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to rejection - he’d been turned down almost as often as he’d been accepted, but for some reason, your rejection stung just that little bit more. Maybe it was the wedding invitation still making things sour, or maybe it was the fact that the mere sight of a girl hadn’t been enough to make his heart accelerate like this in a long time. He shook his head once, trying to focus his train of thought once again on something, anything other than what was currently occupying it. 
Baseball? Too stressful, his game was starting to slip up on him. Buying a puppy? No, it’d just be one more thing he could let down. Hitting the gym? He already went 6 days a week - if he went any more frequently, he’d have to consider moving his bed in there. 
His mind raced as he pressed the buttons on the video game, moving the small yellow circle across the screen, collecting points between sips of beer. Behind him, he heard a couple of guys shouting at a tv screen, the sound of the latest sports highlights blaring out in the background. 
“This Bradshaw asshole needs to get his shit together. Twenty-nine and he plays about as well as my ten year old. Drop him down to the minors or get rid of the bastard. He shouldn’t be missing plays like this.” One of the voices shouted at the tv, his friends nodding their heads in silent agreement with his rant.
Bradley felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as the insults about his playing continued to spout from this guy’s mouth. He couldn’t have been much older than Bradley was, one of those armchair commentators who probably hadn’t swung a bat since Little League. As the criticism continued, each jab focused directly at Bradley’s game performance, missing one play that cost a game - one that he’d already been feeling pissed off about - it became harder to ignore. 
“I bet that hot little piece of ass wife of his left him because she knew he was a dogshit baseball player.” 
Bradley spun around on his heels so fast that he swore the room was spinning. He turned to face the group, crowded in a corner in front of the tv, faces all glued to the female commentator. Bradley could practically hear the derogatory thoughts they were having about her and it only fuelled his anger more. 
“Hey, man, if you’ve got an issue with how I play the game, I’d like to see you get off your ass and go play nine innings against Boston. Keep my ex-wife’s name out of your mouth.” Bradley scoffed, narrowing his dark brown eyes at the trio. 
“You got a problem, jackass?” The other man growled, raising an eyebrow at Bradley as he slammed his drink down on the table. “She probably left you for that rookie because even she knew you weren’t good for anything.”
“That so? Your wife would probably like to go a couple rounds with me though.” Bradley retorted, a devilish smirk forming on his face as he folded his muscular arms across his chest. 
Before Bradley had time to blink, the man drew back his arm and landed a hard punch to Bradley’s jaw. Bradley quickly delivered a stronger hit to the man’s face, watching him stumble backwards for a second. Bradley turned around and walked outside, getting ready to light another cigarette as he ran his hand over his jaw, assessing if he had any damage to worry about. 
The man returned, practically running outside after Bradley. More heated words were exchanged, insults flying between them both before the man delivered another hit, this time to Bradley’s nose. He shook his hand off and headed off down the street with his friends, disappearing off to the next bar. Bradley held his nose, blood dripping down from his nostrils and onto his hand. 
You and your friends had heard the commotion when it unfolded inside, and decided to head out, having enough excitement for one night. As you stepped out, you saw the man who’d hit on you earlier, this time with his nose bleeding onto the pavement under him. You ran over to him, raising an eyebrow.
“What did you do, hit on a girl who had a boyfriend?” You asked playfully as you rooted through your purse for something to help clean his nose.
“Called a guy out for saying my ex-wife was a “hot piece of ass”, actually,” Bradley nodded once, gratefully taking the tissues from you and using them to clean his nose. 
“Stick your hand out for a sec,” you instructed, squirting a dollop of scented hand sanitizer into his large palm before raising an eyebrow at him, “You don’t have anything I could catch from helping you without gloves?”
“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Bradley scoffed, trying to laugh but wincing instead, “And why the fuck does my hand smell like a flower?”
“Lavender hand sanitizer. It’s not as good as washing your hands, but it’ll do while we’re outside. And I’m going to hold the tissues in place while you rub it into your hands, but I don’t want to catch something. I’m just fresh out of latex gloves.”
“Good thing. I’m allergic,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to brave through the pain, “I’m clean. You’re fine. I get drug tested and physicals through work constantly.” 
“What kind of a job provides those? Military?” 
“Professional athlete.” He nodded as you pinched the tissues to his nose, applying pressure to help with the bleeding. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“Your nose is broken, it’s suppose to hurt.”
“What are you, a doctor?”
“No, just wrote my finals for a masters in nursing.”
“Close enough,” Bradley nodded slightly, cringing as you continued to apply pressure to his nose.
You rooted through your purse, laughing softly as you pulled a tampon out of your bag. Bradley raised an eyebrow at you, not quite registering what the item was until you pulled the plastic wrapping off of it, stuffing the garbage back into your purse.
“What the fuck do you plan on doing with that?”
“I need to stick it up your nose on the left side. It’s bleeding more than I’d like to see, and a broken nose should probably be set in a medical setting. This way, you won’t bleed all over my car.”
“Your car? You’ve been drinking.”
“Half a vodka-cran over the span of three hours? I think I’m probably not gonna blow over the limit.”
“You are not sticking that up my nose,” he replied stubbornly, arms folding over his chest like a petulant child. 
“Look at your shirt,” you laughed, gesturing to the white floral print button down he was wearing, its collar now tinged with red and pink splotches. 
“Fine,” he said with a reluctant sigh, “but if anyone finds out about this, I’m denying it.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you nodded as you offered him the plastic applicator. 
Bradley rolled his eyes and reluctantly pressed the bottom of the applicator, pushing the tampon into the edge of his nose. He looked at you with another dramatic eyeroll and shook his head before walking down the street to a garbage can. He discarded the applicator before turning to face you, sighing. 
“I can take myself to a hospital, you know.”
“I’m already here, I may as well come with you. Besides, I feel kinda bad about turning you down.”
“Oh, so you’re taking care of me out of pity?” He teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe. Even more so with a tampon hanging out of your nose.”
“It’s quite the fashion statement, isn’t it?” He laughed softly, unbuttoning his dress shirt. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, revealing a clean white t-shirt. 
You unlocked your car, the familiar beep as the doors unlocked causing Bradley to stifle a laugh.
“What is that?!” 
“My car,” you responded matter-of-factly, “What does it look like?”
“One of those cars for a Barbie doll that my goddaughter plays with,” he said as he flourished his hand, gesturing to your pink steering wheel cover and coordinating seat cover.
“Listen, I like pink. Now are you getting in, or do I have to make you?”
Bradley’s eyes widened for a moment, your playful threat of making him get into the car sending his mind into a frenzy again. He eyed you up and down again, and found himself shaking his head as he wondered what colour underwear you had on under your dress. He bet it was probably a coordinating pink set - the kind that Victoria’s Secret mannequins would model in the store window, with delicate little bows or lace or something adorning them. 
Focus, Bradley. She doesn’t want to sleep with you. Stop thinking about her.
He sat down in the passenger’s seat, watching as you hopped into the driver’s side. As you pulled away from the curb, he raised an eyebrow at your choice in music as Taylor Swift started blaring from the speaker.
“You can change it if you want to,” you nodded. “You can put on whatever.”
“No, no, It’s fine. I actually like this song.”
“You said you’re a professional athlete? What sport do you play?”
“Baseball,” he said, slowly nodding his head, “my headshot’s on a flag outside of Petco Park.”
“I thought I recognized you, you’re that player everyone always talks about, right?”
“Unfortunately. It’s rarely good things.”
“How come?”
Bradley sighed, raising an eyebrow, “You know they talk about me but not why?”
“I don’t follow baseball, I've actually never even seen a game, live or on tv. I just know my friend does and she told me everyone talks about you. Bradshaw, right? Number 10?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Bradley Bradshaw. First baseman, used to have a promising career, then, you know, wife cheats on me with a rookie from a rival team, catch her in a hotel room that I paid for with him, and then, despite me stupidly telling her I forgave her and you know what, I was pissed, but I loved her anyway and I blamed myself for her cheating, she served me divorce papers. Said I was incapable of loving anything but baseball. Says the woman who refused to do anything with me when I tried to be loving and affectionate. My friends swear she only married me for the status and the paycheck. Her new fiancé just signed a multi-million dollar contract that’s being talked about as one of the highest in the league, so it sort of checks out.” 
“Jeez,” you whistled, shaking your head, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It was two and half years ago. I just, I haven’t found my stride again yet, I guess.” 
“Is that why you got defensive about her?”
“They said she left me for this other guy because she knew I was a dogshit ball player. I mean, it’s probably not far off. But, I got an invite for her wedding in the mail today, and I was already on edge, so I sort of…snapped.”
“She invited you?!” 
“Yeah, like that, huh? She probably thought I have someone new I’m seeing and that we could still be friends or some shit.”
“So you need a date?”
“I’m not going,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I’m not going.”
“Why not? Free drinks for a night, you can wish her well while secretly hoping her husband’s ball career washes out on him in a year or two.”
Bradley chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he gestured his hand towards you, “I like your thinking actually, but I’m not going alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” you offered, shrugging your shoulders, “When is it?”
“In six months, you don’t need to come with me though. I’ll send her some cheap gift and call it a day.”
“No,” you insisted as you pulled into a parking space at the hospital’s urgent care clinic, “I’ll come with you. I love a good revenge story. Besides, it could be fun. I’ve never partied with a bunch of baseball players before.”
“You’re…you’re something else, you know that?”
“You mean, you don’t have dozens of women offering you a tampon to stop your nosebleed, driving you to the hospital and then offering to accompany you to your ex-wife’s wedding date?” you challenged.
“Can’t say that I do, no.”
“Well, I’m honoured to be your first.” 
Bradley couldn’t help his ear to ear grin as he followed you into the hospital. Despite his bloodied, battered nose, which was hurting more than he cared to let on, and his fledging career, falling apart around him as he stood there, he felt genuinely excited. Excited to get to know you better. Excited to see where things went with you. He felt a promising sense in your words - like maybe, just maybe, he might be able to be done with one-night-stands and empty beds in the morning. He felt giddy, like a teenager going on a first date with his high school crush. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain from his nose or the alcohol talking, but he was almost convinced you were a guardian angel of sorts. Refusing to believe that someone like you could be anything but. 
First things first though, he needed to bring you to a baseball game. 
269 notes · View notes
bloatedandalone04 · 7 months
Text
It Can’t Be That Bad - Part 2
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➪the one where bradley fixes his mistake.
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, once again a pain kink, arguments, fighting, descriptions of injuries, jake and bradley brawl for quick a minute, bradley being whipped for you, age gap, oral (f receiving), body worship, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 9.6k | Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The Bronco was barely in park before Bradley was pulling out the keys and swinging the door open. He stuffs them into his pocket, along with his phone and wallet, as he enters the Hard Deck, his free hand fumbling to take off his aviators. His eyes scan the busy bar, looking for any glimpse of you.
After a full sweep of the room, he spots you over by the bar, phone in hand and a smile on your face that was so clearly forced, Bradley felt his heart clench at the sight of it. He stopped short of reaching you when he clued in to the person next to you, the man being the same one who introduced you to him in the first place. “Fucking Hangman,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the way Jake inched closer to you.
You were sitting on a stool while Jake loomed over you, both of you holding a beer in your hands. From Bradley’s point of view, you and Jake looked like a couple who were having a hard time trying not to jump each other’s bones right here and now, and an ugly feeling began creeping up his throat. 
Bradley supposed that was what you and he looked like when you ventured out to the bar together, back before he fucked up and stupidly let you go. 
That was the nice way of putting it. 
He rejected you. You gave him your heart and he threw it back at you without a second thought. He pushed you away without thinking about how it would make you feel, despite him feeling the exact same way, perhaps even stronger. 
Just the sight of you had all the air leaving his lungs. You are so beautiful and so caring and genuine to those around you. How could he ever let you believe you weren’t good enough for him? 
The last six weeks were ones he never wanted to experience ever again. He hated having no one to come home to, and he hated how it could’ve easily been you waiting on that dock for him, had he returned your feelings. The next time he was deployed, he desperately wanted you to be there for him when he got back. He wanted to come home to you. 
Without really having a plan in mind, Bradley made his way over to the bar, the crowded space making it a bit tough. He was a big guy, though, and used it to his advantage on the rare occasions when he felt he needed to. Like right now. 
He pushed past Bob, who had moved to greet him, but Bradley just gave him a quick pat on the back as he passed him. When he was a few feet away, he met Jake’s eyes and watched as he leaned down towards you.
Before Jake could give you the warning that he was right behind you, Bradley closed the distance and moved to stand on the other side of you. “Y/n,” he said, nearly breathless at being near you again after six weeks without you. 
You stiffen and glance over at him before turning to Jake and glaring at him. “Thanks for the warning,” you mutter and Jake just held his hands up in defense, making no move to walk away and give you some alone time with Bradley, like he so desperately wanted. 
“Hey, I tried,” he defended himself, reaching over and grabbing his bottle of beer. “Rooster’s fast when he needs to be, I guess.”
“Y/n,” Bradley said again and ignored Jake as he brought your attention back to him, refraining from placing his hand on the small of your back like he always did when you were beside him at the bar. “Can we talk, please?”
You looked up at him with a near-blank expression before sighing, running the tip of your index finger around the rim of the bottle in front of you. “I don’t think we need to, Bradley,” you answered and he furrowed his brows.
“Why not?” He asked, shaking his head slightly when you began to stand up. “You said we’d-”
“I didn’t,” you cut him off as you stepped backwards and towards Jake, who just placed his hand on your hip, surely knowing it would make Bradley see red. “I said I’d see you tonight, not that I would talk to you. I didn’t come here with you, Bradley, so there’s no reason I need to talk to you.”
Your words felt like a punch directly to his heart, and he just stared at you when Jake guided you away from the bar and towards the pool tables. He stayed still, his eyes burning a hole in the back of Jake’s head as the man showed off just how good he was at the game.
“Hey, Rooster,” Penny’s kind voice said from beside him. “Want your usual?”
But Bradley just shook his head, never tearing his eyes away from the scene in front of him. Fucking. Hangman. “Not tonight,” he answered as Jake pulled you into his side, mirroring the way Bradley did just six weeks prior. “Give me something stronger.”
Six shots and two beers later, and Bradley was just now starting to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system. He wasn’t planning on drinking much tonight, not when he was so sure he’d actually get the chance to explain himself. But you had been glued to Jake all night, similar to the way you used to be before he introduced you to Bradley and you then became attached to his hip, instead. 
And Bradley just watched. He felt like just another guy at the bar who was jealous of someone else’s relationship. Is this how the other men who frequented the Hard Deck felt when they saw you and Bradley all over each other? 
Was he seriously just another guy?
That’s exactly what he felt like as he sipped on his beer, glaring at the way Jake’s hand slowly but surely inched further down your back. He bit back a disapproving grunt, knowing Jake had to be doing this just to rile him up.
He introduced you as his friend, and now that you weren’t associated with Bradley anymore, Jake was suddenly all over you? 
He felt a sick feeling creeping up his throat as he thought about all the times Jake had taken you to the Hard Deck and acted like how he currently is now with you while Bradley was deployed. 
He assumed it had been more than once at this point, because no one seemed too fazed by the pair of you and seemed to have forgotten that it had been Bradley with you for nearly six months straight. 
He knew he didn’t have the right to be jealous, but he was. 
He hated the fact that you could’ve so easily been with him right now since you had made it clear that you were willing to wait for him because you were falling for him.
God, he had never felt this pathetic in all his years of life. He was a mere few weeks away from turning thirty five and he had shut down the one girl he could actually picture himself settling down with, and now he was drinking alone at a bar, staring at said girl as if he didn’t already have his chance with her. 
Nat had shown up at some point and tried to get him to talk to her, but he just gave her short answers and didn’t hold any conversations. She grew even more frustrated with him and ended up leaving her spot next to him so she could throw darts with Fanboy. 
Bradley had just finished off his third beer when he saw Jake lean down to press his lips to the spot behind your ear, making you laugh quietly as you as you playfully pushed him away.
Yeah, he’s seen enough. 
Bradley threw a few twenties on the bar before standing up from the stool, his body swaying at the sudden movement. He stumbled his way over to you, ignoring the flash of dread that covered your face as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist. “We need to talk,” he said sternly, keeping his eyes on you and pulling you away from Jake. 
“Why? Are you looking for another night of just fun?” You asked as you pulled your arm from his grip once you were standing on the deck outside. “That’s all it was, right?”
“That’s not all it was,” he muttered, the cool air not doing much to calm him down like he hoped it would.  
You narrow your eyes at him. “But you said-”
“I know what I said!” He cut you off, instantly regretting his inability to keep calm during a moment like this when he saw the way you flinched back slightly. He breathed out heavily, gently taking your hand in his as he continued, “I know, okay? Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last six weeks.”
He thought since you hadn’t pulled your hand away from his yet, that maybe you were actually willing to give him a chance to explain himself, but your next words proved him wrong, “Wow, really? Me too,” you said sarcastically. “Do you know how humiliating it was for me to explain to Jake that I had told you how I felt, just to have you throw it back at me as if you didn’t care at all? It was mortifying, Bradley, to tell you that I was falling for you and have you act as if it was the worst thing you had ever heard.”
You pulled your hand away from him and he swayed slightly at the fast movement. “I never wanted you to feel that way, Y/n/n,” he tried, but you just placed your hand flat against his chest.
“And you’re drunk,” you give him a firm push, successfully putting a decent amount of space between the two of you. “You won’t even remember this tomorrow, so why do I even bother?”
“Please, Y/n,” he begged, trying to step towards you but you just shook your head. “I missed you so much. I really, really want to talk things through with you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” was all you muttered as you walked towards the stairs. “If Jake asks where I am, tell him I went home. I don’t need him worrying about me more than he already is.”
Bradley wanted to spit something out in spite, but held back as he watched your retreating form head off in the direction of your car. With a heavy sigh and another urge to down the first drink he saw, he headed back into the bar. 
As he made his way towards Nat, Jake stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Rooster,” he said over the music. “Where did Y/n go? Don’t tell me she’s outside waiting for you after believing whatever bullshit story you told her.”
Bradley muttered something under his breath as he turned to face the man. “She went home,” he replied, shoving Jake’s hand off his shoulder with more force than he needed to. 
“Hey, man, don’t get mad at me,” Jake said with an eye roll. “I’m the one who looked after her while you were away. I’m the one who made her smile again when she came back from dropping you off in tears.”
Bradley felt his skin heating up, not wanting to talk to the man anymore, and especially not about you. “Jake,” he warned. “Don’t.”
But Jake only laughed. “Don’t what, Rooster? What?” He asked with a certain hostility to his voice. “Do you know how it makes me feel to know I practically pushed her into your arms and had to watch as she got her heart broken? You might not be her friend, Bradshaw, but I am. And you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here tonight and asking to speak with her.”
Taking another deep breath, Bradley tried to ignore all the eyes that were beginning to stare at him as the two aviators glared at each other. “I’m serious, Hangman, lay off,” 
You were right, he was drunk and not in the right state of mind to think rationally at this point. He needed to leave now before he did something he regretted. Before he did something that would further fuel your distaste for him.
“I don’t think I will,” Jake continued to push him. “See, you can be an dick to me all you want, but being a dick to Y/n is where I have a problem. She might want to forget it ever happened, but I won’t let you forget just how nice of a girl you let slip away. Truthfully, you never deserved her, and I’m mad at myself for introducing her to you, seeing how it worked out so well.”
“Enough,” Bradley nearly yelled, noticing that someone had stopped the music and that most of the patrons had gathered around at this point, including Nat, who gave him a look of warning. “Back off, Seresin, I mean it.”
He went to turn away, but Jake had other plans. “Or what? You gonna publicly humiliate me, too? Or is that just something you like to do to Y/n-” Bradley didn’t hear the rest as he quickly turned back around and punched Jake square in the nose. 
Jake stumbled back while Nat rushed forward to pull on Bradley’s arm. “Jesus, Bradley, are you crazy?!” She asked as she turned him to face her, but as soon as he took his eyes off Jake, the blond swung back and knocked him back a few feet.
Nat’s grip on Bradley loosened as he stumbled back, his hand reaching up to grip the side of his face as his head began to spin. 
Fanboy and Coyote held Jake back while Nat grabbed Bradley again. Penny rushed in and stood between the men with angry eyes and a bite to her tone. “Both of you, out. Now,” she said in a voice that left no room for arguments. 
Jake just glared at Bradley as he left the Hard Deck, Fanboy following quickly after him. 
Nat wrapped her arm around her best friend’s middle as she guided him out to the parking lot. “You’re wasted, Bradley,” she scolded as she led him over to her car. 
He narrowed his eyes, still holding his face with one hand while his other gripped her shoulder. “Where are we going? I didn’t park over here,” he mumbled and heard her scoff in response. 
“You didn’t think I was going to let you drive home after all this, did you?”
Bradley stopped, making her stop as well as he turned to give her an annoyed look. “I am not leaving my Bronco here overnight,” he stated and she rolled her eyes, holding out her free hand. 
“Fine,” she grunted. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”
Bradley did as he was told, placing the keys in her hand as he asked, “What about your car?”
“I’ll just crash at your place tonight and you can drive me home in the morning before work so I can change. I’ll pick up my car later,” she mumbled, pulling the passenger door open for him but leaving him to get himself in the car as she made her way to the driver’s side. 
After he hoisted himself into the car, Bradley rested his head against the window, the cool glass soothing the burn he felt on the right side of his face.
As Nat started the Bronco and set off in the direction of his house, she let the tense atmosphere grow thicker and thicker until she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “What were you thinking? Going off on Hangman like that? You know how protective he is over her, there was no way you were winning that one,”
Bradley just shrugged, his eyes feeling heavy as he stared out the dark window. “I miss her, Nat,” he murmured. “I’m in love with her.”
Nat looked over at him in surprise. She knew he felt strongly about you, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he loved you, but to witness him finally admit it to himself was a bit shocking. “Have you told her that?” She asked, lowering her voice as she realized he was letting himself be vulnerable with her. 
“I wanted to, as soon as I got there,” he lifted his head and sat up a bit straighter, despite his body begging him to let it rest. “I was going to, but she was with Jake. She looked happy. She didn’t want to talk to me.”
Nat sighed heavily. “So make her talk to you,”
“I tried,” he rasped, his throat dry and his face sore. He made a mental note to never take the first swing at Jake Seresin ever again. “I tried to explain myself, but she just wanted to leave at that point.”
“Well, obviously,” Nat muttered, pulling onto his street. “You got drunk and couldn’t keep your eyes off her all night. She probably thought you just wanted to sleep with her again.”
When she pulled into his driveway, she turned off the car and moved so she was facing him. He looked back at her with tired eyes and a red cheek. “I want to be with her, Nat. I want us to be together,”
Her eyes stared into his for a few seconds before she sighed and pulled out the keys. “So tell her that. Sober, this time. Tell her everything, and don’t let her leave without her knowing how you really feel. I bet she still feels the same way,”
Bradley scoffed as he blindly reached for the handle. “Right,” he mumbled as he got out of the car. “I’m sure she’s still in love with the guy who walked away after she gave him her heart, and then that same guy gave her every mixed signal in return.”
Nat rolled her eyes as she got out of the car as well and helped him into the house. She led him down the hall to his room, where she pushed him down onto his covers and lifted his legs so he was laying down. “You need to tell her, Bradley,” she said quietly as she pulled his boots off and dropped them to the floor. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, alright? Everyone has. If you could just admit your feelings to one another, you could be great together.”
Bradley looked at his best friend with hooded eyes, completely vulnerable as he wore his heart on his sleeve. “What if she doesn’t want me back?” He asked in defeat, not wanting to think about the possibility that he had truly blown his one shot with you. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”
Nat stared down at him as she sat next to him, trying to think of what to say that would make him feel even a little bit better. “Then at least you’ll know,” she offered, watching the way his shoulders dropped in dread. “And I’ll be right here, scolding you for letting her get away, but also applauding you for not going down without a fight.”
She leaned forward and kissed the mark on his face from Jake’s fist. 
“Literally,”
Bradley huffed out a laugh as he watched her stand up and turn off the lights before disappearing down the hall towards the guest room. 
She was right, like always. 
He needed to tell you how he felt, he needed to tell you what he should’ve told you that day on the dock.
But most of all, he just needed you. 
-
Bradley was met with a bruised cheek when he was finally able to pull himself out of bed the next morning. His head was pounding and his throat was dry, making him think back to his college days where he would drink into the early hours of the morning and wake up with countless hangovers. 
He felt awful, similar to how he felt back when he was a twenty year old frat boy who had no idea what to do with his life. 
Waking up in his own bed without you felt foreign. He had gotten so used to falling asleep with you in his arms and waking up with you, he didn’t know what to do with himself. 
For what felt like the millionth time, Bradley wished his parents were here. He wanted to be able to confide in his mom, and be chewed out by his dad, then watch his mom chew out his dad for chewing him out. 
He knew that if they were still here, he wouldn’t be in this situation because both his mom and his dad would’ve called him out for stringing you along like he did, way before he even realized his true feelings for you.
Since he had fallen asleep on top of the covers, he didn’t need to worry about making the bed. He left it the way you had neatly made it up the day you drove him to the carrier ship, numbly pulling on his work clothing before grabbing his phone. Nat had thankfully put it on charge, so he had a full battery to go into work with. 
When he made his way to the kitchen, he found his best friend sitting at the island, a coffee mug in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. She gave him a quick wave as she slowly slid the second coffee mug across the counter. “Drink up, Roozie,” she said as she finished her toast, gathering up all the crumbs in her palm before brushing them off in the sink. 
Bradley grunted as he sipped on the coffee, his head still pounding. “Think I’m going to need more than one of these to get me through today,” he muttered, eyeing Nat as she wandered around his house in the clothing she wore last night. “I have some clothes you could wear, if you want.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. Save that offer for when you win Y/n back and she raids your closet again,” she winked, making him groan quietly at the image of you wearing his clothes. “I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, here, but when she wore your shirt at the Hard Deck the day before your deployment? I can’t believe you didn’t make things official right then and there.”
Bradley finished his coffee, setting the mug down in the crumb-littered sink as he turned to face her. “Don’t remind me,” 
She held her hands up. “Right, sorry,” she said before grabbing her phone from off the counter. “Anyway, we should get going. The sooner you’re done with work, the sooner you can work on getting your girlfriend back.”
She was testing him, but he just shook his head, not bothering to correct her as he grabbed his keys from where she threw them onto the table beside the door last night. 
At work, Bradley laid low for a while, only talking to those who talked to him, and avoiding Jake like the plague. He was doing a pretty decent job, until he ran into him in the cafeteria. 
Jake was sporting a bruised nose, and Bradley wished he could find joy in the fact that he did that, but he knew that when you saw it, you’d be even more pissed with him than you already are. 
Bradley also knew he looked worse, but that was only because he had thrown the first punch. Just another thing that was entirely his fault. 
He didn’t say anything to Jake as he walked past him and ended up leaving the cafeteria altogether, pulling his phone out on his way to the tarmac. He clicked on your contact and brought the phone up to his ear before he could talk himself out of it. 
Really, he was embarrassed about how he acted last night, but he also wanted to forget about it all and get you back. If that meant owning up to his dumb actions from the previous evening, then so be it. 
He braced himself against the side of the building by placing his palm flat against the wall, his grip on his phone tightening the longer he was met with the obnoxious ringing sound.
Just as he was about to hang up and call again, you answered with a sharp, “What?” 
Though your voice wasn’t super friendly at the moment, Bradley couldn’t help but let a feeling of hope wash over him because you had actually picked up. Sure, you took your sweet time doing it, but you still answered his call. “Hey, Y/n/n,” he said in a much softer tone than he used last night. “I can’t talk for long because I’m at work, but I just needed to say something.”
You waited a heartbeat or two before replying with a cautious, “Okay? What?” 
He huffed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before he opened his mouth in an apology, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I was an asshole last night, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me. You were right, I was drunk and had no business trying to get you to talk with me when I was like that,” he said in one go, stumbling over a few of his words, but continuing nonetheless, “And I’m sorry for what I said to you back on the dock. I didn’t realize it then, but you told me everything I wanted to hear, I just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
It was silent on your end for a bit, and he could picture you chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say to him. A few more seconds pass before you finally break the silence. “Well, thanks for apologizing,” your voice was much quieter than before, and you sounded much more willing to actually talk to him. 
And he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to keep you talking to him. “Like I said, I’m at work…but I really want to see you later, explain why I said what I did and how much of a fucking idiot I’ve been, if you’ll let me,” he nearly whispered the last part. “Come over later? Please? I promise, it’s not just me wanting to have fun with you, because that was never all it was for me. I can’t believe I even said that.”
You sighed and he prepared himself for the rejection he knew he deserved, but you surprised him as you asked, “Six, right? That’s when you’re off?”
Bradley pushed himself off the wall and looked around at the empty tarmac before answering, “Yeah, yes,” he quickly spoke. “Six.”
“Okay,” you murmured, your next words making a grin break out on his face. “I’ll be there for seven, maybe seven thirty if I begin to have second thoughts.”
And then you hung up, and Bradley was left standing by himself, smiling like he had just won the lottery, when in reality, he had just won something so much better. 
-
After quickly dropping Nat off at the Hard Deck so she could get her car, Bradley was speeding home in a way that was similar to when he floored it when you informed him you’d see him there yesterday. 
He quickly unlocked the door and stripped on his way to his bathroom for a shower, not wanting the way he had started to sweat after you confirmed that you’d come over later be the first thing you were met with when you arrived. 
He switched his shirt probably around four times before settling on a simple black tee and dark jeans. He paced the length of his living room for nearly twenty minutes before stopping abruptly and pulling out his phone to check the time. 
It was nearing seventy thirty, and Bradley began to think you really were having second thoughts, but he wasn’t able to dwell on it for long before he heard the sounds of knocking coming from his front door. 
He pocketed his phone and made his way to the door within three strides, pulling it open to reveal you in a cute oversized tee that was tucked into your jean shorts. It was similar to the way you looked when he took you to the Hard Deck, and while he knew you thought it was just a casual outfit, Bradley thought you never looked better. 
But then again, he found you hot in any kind of clothing, so he was a bit biased. 
“Hi,” he said when he opened the door, trying not to let his eyes wander too much. 
“Hi,” you said back, hesitantly meeting his eye with a forced smile that faltered when you caught sight of the bruise on his cheek. If you wanted to say anything about it, you held back and he could appreciate your ability to bite your tongue when you needed to. “Sorry, I really didn’t know if I was coming tonight.” You add when he stepped aside and allowed you to enter his house. 
He closed the door behind you, following you into the living room as he shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re here,”
You slowly sat down on the couch, awkwardly gazing up at him as if you had no business being there. As if he hadn’t fucked you into the very cushions you were sat on more times than he could count on one hand. As if he hadn’t blown off plans with his friends so he could hold you on this couch while you watched movie after movie instead. 
You bit your lip as you thought of what to say, and Bradley had to look away quickly before you really began to think he just wanted you here so you could get him off. “So….how was your day?”
Had things really become that bad? To the point where that was the only thing you could think of asking him?
“It was fine,” he answered as he moved to sit down next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your thigh and his. You didn’t look uncomfortable yet, so he safely assumed you had no problem with him slightly invading your personal space. “How was yours?”
Oh, yeah. This was bad.
“It was fine,” you repeated his answer, and you quickly realized that as you added, “Yeah, it was good.”
“Good,” someone kill him now. This was not how he wanted to start this night off with you. 
Before he could mentally call himself out on how dumb he was acting, you asked him, “Can I ask what happened to your face?” Your tone held a sliver of humor, a teasing smile on your lips that quickly had the awkward tension begin to dissolve. 
He laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, it happened last night,”
You nodded, raising a brow when he didn’t continue. “What, did you run face first into a door or something?”
“No, Jake punched me,” he said and watched the way your small grin dropped and how your eyes widened. You open your mouth in concern, but he quickly added, “After I punched him.” 
Your concerned expression drops even quicker as you break eye contact with him and run your tongue along the underside of your teeth. “Uh,” you refrain from completely losing your cool before you heard what exactly went down. “Why, exactly, did you punch him?”
When you didn’t turn to look at him again, Bradley shrugged. “Because you came with him and not me,” 
That had you turning to look over at him. “What?” You asked in disbelief. “Seriously? You were jealous?”
He sat up a bit straighter as he began to feel like he was being interrogated. “Yeah, I was,” he answered, cutting you off before you could even say anything, “He kept making very valid points to me about how I fucked things up and how I never deserved you in the first place, and he was making too much sense so I punched him.” 
You squinted at him but then suddenly laughed when you realized he was being serious. “Oh, my God, Bradley,” you scolded. “You can’t just go around punching people because they were making too much sense, especially Jake.”
“I was drunk,” he weakly defended himself, but sighed right alongside you when you gave him an unimpressed look. “I know that’s not an excuse.” 
“You’re right,” you agreed, fighting back a dumb grin at the fact that you had actually managed to make him jealous without even trying to. “It’s not.”
Bradley shook his head as he, too, fought off an embarrassed smile. “I was just so unbelievably jealous when I walked in and saw you under his arm, because I knew that could’ve been me had I not turned you down,”
You look away quickly as the memory of that day comes spiraling back. “So…why did you?” You asked quietly as you placed with the silver ring you wore on your right index finger. “Turn me down? Was it really because I’m too young for you? Because I read too much into things?”
“No,” he quickly answered, turning his body towards yours. “God, no, that wasn’t it at all. I was just…an idiot, to put it simply. I was too afraid to give in and admit to myself that I felt the exact same way that you did.”
“But why?” You asked and lifted your gaze to meet his. “Why were you afraid? It’s just me.”
“I know,” he held back on referring to you with one of the many pet names he had given you during the last six months. “And it wasn’t you, I promise. This is all on me and my stupid trust issues and my inability to realize just how good I had it until it was gone…until you were gone.”
You press your lips into a thin line as you process his words. “You could’ve just told me that, instead of making me feel like I was just one big mistake to you,” 
Bradley felt his heart crack at that, a heat pooling in his bones as he realized just how much his words truly affected you. “You are not a mistake,” he said, sounding more serious than he had ever sounded before. “You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and Jake was right, I never deserved to have you in the way I did.”
“Bradley-”
“No, it’s true. We were so fucking good together, and it felt so right with you, and all it took for me to fuck it up was you admiting what we both already knew; that it was so much more than just us hooking up,” he was surprised how easy it was for him to open up to you, seeing as the only other person he could be vulnerable with was Nat, but he knew you wouldn’t make him feel bad for showing you this side of him. “There was something there between us, and there still is for me, and I’m so sorry I let you believe that there wasn’t.”
Your eyes flickered all over his face and you thought back to how differently he looked at you six weeks ago. Back then he looked so cold and came off as arrogant, but now he looked genuine, like he truly meant every word he told you. Maybe that was why you felt yourself beginning to break down the walls you had put up the second he had broken your heart. “So, what do you feel between us now? How do you feel about me?”
When Bradley met your eyes, he saw that same vulnerability you had when you confessed your feelings for him. You were giving him the second chance he had wanted for weeks now, and he would not let you get away again. 
He took your hand in his as his knee brushed yours. “I feel that, given the chance to prove myself to you, we could be just as good together as we were before. No, we could be even better,” he emphasized the last word and watched as the last bit of reluctance faded from your eyes. “And as for how I feel about you? I don’t think I’m falling for you.”
When he felt your grip on his hand loosen, and saw the way your eyes pricked with unshed tears, he quickly moved closer to you. 
“I know I’m in love with you,” he added, “And I have been for half a year now.”
A second or two passes before a big grin spreads across your face, and you reach up with your free hand to grip the side of his face, letting your thumb brush against his scars. “You’re in love with me?” You asked, desperate to know he wasn’t just messing with you in hopes to get you back to how things were before. “You’re really in love with me?”
Bradley just nodded, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand as he said the thing he should’ve a month and a half ago, “I love you,” 
You smile again and refrain from jumping on him right then and there. 
“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he adds, looking down at your joined hands and missing the way your brows furrowed in disbelief. “I can wait, I just needed to tell you that-”
You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his in a kiss that leaves you both feeling dizzy. “Are you kidding me?” You against his mouth, removing your hand from his in order to grip the back of his neck. “Of course I love you. I have for months.”
Bradley was barely able to grin back at you before your mouth was covering his once again, and his hands were gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “I missed you so much,” he murmured in between kisses. “I regretted what I said the second I saw you crying and I was too far away to do anything about it. It felt like I had left my heart back on that dock with you.”
You push him so he’s sitting back against the couch, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him as you straddle his lap. “So,” you pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, laughing afterwards when he quickly guided you into another one as you pulled away. “You don’t think I’m too young and immature for you?” 
Bradley closed his eyes when he felt your lips latch onto his neck, groaning as you began to suck a mark onto his skin. “Fuck no,” he answered, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your shorts and pulling your hips forward to create the smallest bit of friction. “You’re more mature than most of the people I work with.”
You hum in approval, running your tongue over the fresh mark he would proudly wear at work tomorrow. “And you’re okay with us being in two different places in our lives?”
“I don’t care where we are,” he confirmed, guiding your lips back to his in a bruising kiss. “Just as long as I’m with you.”
“Good answer,” you kiss him again as your fingers begin to work on the zipper of his jeans. 
“Wait,” he reluctantly pulls away from your mouth, his hold on your hips making you halt your mission on his zipper. 
“What’s wrong?” You quickly ask, worried you’d overstepped a boundary without realizing it.
But Bradley just playfully scoffed at you, lifting you up and turning so you were laying against the couch and he was hovering over you. He unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs, a deep groan leaving the back of his throat when he caught sight of the black lace that covered your core from him. “You just told me you love me and gave me a second chance,” he stated as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your inner thigh. “Nothing could be wrong after that.”
You stifle a quiet laugh, a moan slipping out instead when he placed a kiss to your clothed clit.
His fingers pulled down the lace and dropped the fabric to the floor next to your shorts as he muttered, “It’s been way too long since I tasted you,” before he began to devour you like a starved man. 
He supposed he was as he missed the sweet taste that only belonged to you so much. 
Your head leaned back against the decorative pillow on the armrest of the couch, your hand instinctively going straight to his hair. Bradley groaned against you at the subtle tug he received, growing harder in his jeans as he pulled your legs so they’re resting over his shoulders. 
The vibration had you clenching around nothing, a low whine escaping your parted lips. “Bradley,” you gasped quietly when he nudged your folds apart with his nose before licking a flat strip up the center of you. 
“Say my name again,” he softly demanded, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you even closer to his awaiting tongue. “Who’s making you feel good right now?”
“You,” it came out as a breath when he wrapped his lips around your clit, and you clenched tightly around nothing. “It’s you, Bradley. Fuck.”
“That’s right, baby,” he praised and the name had your eyes squeezing shut. “You’re so good for me, taste so fucking good.” 
Butterflies erupted in your body at his sweet but absolutely filthy words. “Bradley,” you nearly whispered, tugging a bit harder on his hair as you knew it would drive him crazy. “I missed you.”
Like you expected he would, a deep growl once again sent vibrations up your body and once again had you clenching around nothing. “I missed you, too, sweet girl, fuck, did I ever,” he muttered against your throbbing clit, the soft graze of his teeth making your breath hitch in your throat. “I missed you for six weeks straight, missed you when I got home and saw that you had taken out all your things you had in here. I want you to put it all back and never take them out again.”
You whimpered at his words and the possessiveness that laced them. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were asking me to move in with you,” you tried to make your voice sound teasing, but you were completely at his mercy right now and not even close to being in control.   
“Good idea,” he replied and your heart skipped a beat at what he was insinuating. You didn’t have time to dwell on what he meant by that before he was continuing, “Move in with me, please?”
Bradley knew he was moving too fast, but he felt as if he had already wasted so much time being away from you the last six weeks, he didn’t want to waste anymore. He needed you in his life, wanted to pick up on your habits and come home to a house full of yours and his things. 
He wanted to share his life with you in all the ways he didn’t before. He wouldn’t fuck this up again, and he wanted you to know just how serious he is about you and how serious he is about starting an official relationship with you.
You could hardly focus on what he was asking you to do. His tongue had slid back down your folds and penetrated you just slightly, your wetness coating the muscle as he lapped at you. 
He knew it wasn’t fair to ask you that while he was currently tongue fucking you, but in all fairness, you were the one who technically brought it up. “Please,” he begged against your heat. “Say you’ll move in with me, spend every night with me in our own bed, in our own house.”
His offer only sounded better and better, almost as good as his mouth felt against your throbbing clit. “Bradley,” 
“We’d be together everyday,” he rasped and you practically came from just his promises. When his mouth was back on you a second later, he grinned at the extra wetness he felt and took pride in the way he got you off at the idea of moving in together. He licked you clean before moving back up your body and hovering over you. “It could be like this every night.”
You moan quietly when he presses a soft kiss to your mouth. 
He ended it all too quickly as he slowly licked his lips that still tasted like you before asking, “So, what do you say?”
“Yes,” you were finally able to properly answer him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him closer to you. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”
You share a couple more heated kisses before you pull away and gaze up at him with an unreadable emotion swimming in your eyes. Bradley caught on to the sudden change, and he reached his hand up to caress the side of your face. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking your head, you huff quietly and gently bump your nose against his. “Nothing,” you answer. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…This is all I’ve ever wanted for months. It’s hard to believe it’s actually happening.”
Bradley physically felt his heart skip a beat as he thought about all the pain he had put you through, and not even as recent as six weeks ago. He had unknowingly strung you along, played with your heart and allowed you to think this whole thing was purely sexual. 
He needed to assure you that this is real, that his feelings for you are real and genuine. “Baby,” he murmured, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he slowly ground his hips against yours, the cool metal of his zipper rubbing against your pulsing core making you see stars behind your closed eyelids. “It’s happening. You and me, us. I love you and I’m so sorry for fucking things up so badly between us.”
You tug at the fabric of his shirt and give him a small smile, brushing your lips against his. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “We have each other now, right?”
“Right,” he confirmed and that was all you needed to hear before your shaking hands were pulling the black fabric off his upper body. 
The sight of his toned chest and abs on full display had you holding back a moan, your lip getting caught between your teeth as your eyes raked over his damn near flawless body. 
Bradley’s hand that was on your face moved so his thumb was slipping past your lips, and he watched with a slack jaw as you sucked it in deeper, your tongue running along the underside of it. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he really didn’t understand how a guy like him ended up with a girl like you, but he was done questioning it as you clearly felt the exact same way about him. You love him, and that’s all he needed to know.
“I think you’re talking about yourself,” you say as you press your lips to the skin of his neck. “You’re so attractive, Bradley, you could get me off with just a look.” Then you were sucking his skin, similar to the way you were sucking his thumb just a few seconds earlier. 
He grunted at the stinging sensation of the hickey you left on his neck, right next to the other one from earlier in the night. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he praised as he lifted your shirt over your head, your bra being pulled from your body quickly after. “Mark me up, show everyone that I belong to you.”
You gasp out in need, pulling his mouth back to yours as your hands frantically push down his jeans and boxer briefs. “Mine,” you whimper against his lips, feeling him hum in confirmation. 
“Yours, baby,” he replied, wrapping your legs around his waist as he teased your soaking entrance. “All yours.”
Then he was pushing into you. Your walls stretched around him and took him in perfectly, making his head fall against your shoulder as he got used to the feeling of you around him again after so long. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out only halfway before burying himself deep within you once again. “God, baby, you feel so good.”
His words release more butterflies all over your body and you clench around him, your greedy walls sucking him in even deeper. “Go slow,” you request in a quiet voice, making him lift his head to meet your eyes. 
Really, he was fine with fucking you into the cushion with enough force to break the springs, and he was also fine with loving your body with his own. “You want me to go slow?” He asked as he pulled out all the way then sunk right back in. “Fuck you nice and slow, like this?”
When he repeated the movement a couple times, you nod quickly and reach your hands up so they’re in his hair. “Yeah,” you breathe out, connecting your lips in a barely-there kiss before saying, “Just like that. I want to feel every inch of you in me.”
Bradley’s hips stuttered at that, breaking the slow pace for a quick second as he placed his forearm against the cushion next to your head. “Fuck, baby, you can’t say things like that and expect me to not fuck you hard into this couch.” 
You laughed quietly, and the sound only spurred him on as he set the slow pace once again. “You need to gain some self control, Bradley,” you purred into his ear and he was once again refraining from absolutely destroying your core. 
“I can’t,” he said as he began to place kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. “Not when I have you wrapped around me, not when you’re taking me so well. Fuck, look at you.”
You give him a teasing smile that fades quickly when he sucks the skin of your throat. After half a year with him, you’ve noticed he seems to have a favorite spot on your neck where he likes to kiss you and leave physical proof of his mouth being there. 
The last time you felt his lips on that spot was when he got you off so good before taking you to the Hard Deck, where you showed off the hickey he left on you. 
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he muttered, mostly to himself as he gazed down at your saliva coated skin. “After everything, after I fucked things up, you’re still mine.”
You hum, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing him closer to you, making him reach even deeper within you. “I always was yours,” you confessed and felt the way his grip tightened on you. 
“But,” he grunted as his hips rocked into yours in a slow rhythm, that sick feeling of jealousy creeping back into him, despite him being very aware of his current position of being buried within you. “You were with Jake last night-”
“But my heart was always with you,” you cut him off and noticed the way he seemed to relax at your words. “My heart was still yours, even after you broke it.” You give him a teasing grin in hopes he wouldn’t take it too hard, but this was Bradley, and he was a pretty emotional guy when it came down to certain things.
While you had given him all the reassurance he needed, he was still feeling so awful for how he treated you, and he wanted to make it up to you. He wanted you to forget about it, forget that dumb side of him who didn’t understand what he was saying. 
“I’m not going to do that ever again,” he promised, jerking his hips a bit roughly but not picking up the pace. “I’m going to treat you so well, be so good to you all the time. You’re going to grow so fucking sick of me, I swear.”
You would’ve laughed, but the sharp snaps of his thrusts had you getting lost in the feeling of him. “‘S all I’ve wanted,” you whimpered when he reached one hand down to rub circles on your still sensitive clit. 
It throbbed against the pad of his middle finger in time with the way your walls pulsed around him. He was driving into you so slowly, you felt every single inch of him as he invaded your warm and inviting core. 
You were so used to the rough, fast paced sex with him in the past, but this was different. Back then, he was just trying to get you off in the ways he knew you liked, and desperately tried to ignore the unspoken words between the two of you.
He tried to fuck away his true feelings for you, hoping that the way his heart would flip at your sweet sounds and how his whole body fit so perfectly against your own was just him getting caught up in the moment. 
He was so glad he was wrong and finally allowed himself to face reality. 
“You’re all I want, too,” he struggled to say as you clenched tightly around him. “I don’t know why I even bothered trying to deny it…fuck, you’re so tight.”
You smirk to yourself at his struggle to keep control of the slow drag of his hips. “Only for you,” you fed into his possessiveness over you, and raked your nails down his back.
“Fuck,” he hissed at the sting, the light scratches on his skin feeling better than he ever thought was possible. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, sweet girl. I won’t fuck this up again.”
You press your lips to his as you feel the coil in your abdomen begin to unravel. “‘M gonna come again,” you informed him against his mouth, fueling him to pick the pace up just slightly as he continued with his sharp thrusts. 
“I want you to so badly,” a deep grunt left his lip as he felt the beginning of your orgasm start to coat him. “Just like that, baby. Come for me, I want to feel it all over me. I want it to be messy.”
Your mouth breaks away from his in order for you to be able to let out a loud moan, followed by a call of his name as your release surged through you. With a gentle hand pressed to his face, your thumb brushing against the bruise he received last night, you came hard around him.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he rasped next to your ear, using your willing core to get himself there, as well. “You look so fucking hot when you come for me.”
Whimpering at the sensitivity, you push him closer with your heel against his back. “Wanna feel you, too,” you mumbled, helplessly taking each thrust he gave as you wouldn’t be fully satisfied until he, too, got off. “I want it in me.”
Bradley’s jaw locked at that, his neck straining as he gave two more quick thrusts before stilling. You were rewarded with a deep, throaty groan as he spilled his seed into you, and you took every single drop.
Your walls, seemingly desperate to feel him breed them once again, gripped him tightly when he lazily started to rock his hips into yours again. The both of you were far too sensitive to go for round two right now, so he was just riding your highs for as long as he could. 
You gently massaged his scalp, his head undoubtedly sore from your relentless tugs on his hair. Bradley was actually excited to deal with the brief headache that would come from it. He was even more excited to see the scratches on his back tomorrow morning, and he was excited to take you to the Hard Deck on Friday night and officially make it known to everyone there that you are his and he is yours. 
Granted, most of the people there already assumed that, but it would still feel great to finally go public with you. 
Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and got into a more comfortable position with you on the couch. He placed a few kisses to the top of your head as you basked in the afterglow, finally feeling truly happy for the first time in over a month. “I love you,” he had somehow managed to win you back, and he would make damn sure he keeps his promise of never breaking your heart again. “Every single part of you.”
You lean up and press a kiss to the mark on his cheek, making a mental note to give Jake a hard time about using his fists instead of walking away. You were still grateful that he was so protective over you, though, so you wouldn’t be too serious about it. “I love you, too, Bradley,” you say back. “I always have.”
-
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waklman · 1 year
Text
Glue Song (Pt. 1)
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summary: jake tries to keep your existence out of rooster’s knowledge. (friends to lovers, pining)
pairing: jake seresin x female reader
warnings: negative self talk
a/n: haven’t wrote in awhile but glue song by beabadoobee and tgm brought me back...ugh i can't i love pining jake.
word count: 2.5k
next part
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“I respect the guy, but he is out of his damn mind.” You watch as Jake momentarily pauses his rambling to take another chug of the latte you brewed for him. 
“Maverick must’ve hit his head while landing during the last mission. Yeah, that must be why.” he concludes, almost entertaining himself, imagining all the ways the old guy could have begun to lose his sanity.
If Jake wasn’t so annoyed, he would have laughed at the made up scenarios playing out in his head. And of course, voicing them to you afterwards so you could laugh with him.
Noticing that some of the neatly decorated whip cream from his drink had found a new home on his freshly shaved face, you wet your hands in the sink and mindlessly reached over the kitchen island to wipe at his sticky chin. 
He blinks back at you, the annoyed expression on his face faltering at your touch.
“There was whip cream on your face. You hate when things get on your skin.” you carefully whisper, pulling your hands back to begin cleaning the dishes again. 
Worry began to brew in your stomach, you might’ve crossed a boundary. 
After processing what happens, Jake just hums, pursing his lips at you in thanks.
Your body unravels at the notion, the tense muscles of your shoulders relaxing itself.
Jake watches you intently, eyes scanning over every detail of you. 
There is a beat of silence as you two acknowledge each other. Your eyes meet in silent conversation. So touching Jake’s face was allowed, you two had agreed without having to say a thing to each other. 
As if nothing happened, Jake regains his posture and furrows his eyebrows together once more, signaling that he’s ready to continue his stream of complaints–this becoming a new routine for you two on weekends where you are both off from work. 
You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself in moments like these. Moving to San Francisco on your own was not an easy decision. Stability has always been something you craved, even if it meant not putting yourself first. But it quickly wore you out with time. You had a job you were unhappy with, shitty friends who you had kept around for the sake of having a social life, essentially trading in your sanity for the sake of stability. The knowledge that this might be how your life would span out, left you disoriented. 
That one fateful summer was when you had decided it was time for a change, despite the fact it made you sick to your stomach to do something so sudden, especially all on your own. But, maybe a new location is just what you needed. 
When you first arrived, reality hit you like a truck. All you felt was immense regret, you had no friends, you’re making less money now, and you didn’t know your way around San Diego at all. This wasn’t something you were used to, causing the doubts of your rash decision to eat at you whenever you had a moment to think to yourself. You should’ve never done this. 
And as if your guardian angel saw your internal struggle, they sent Jake on your trail to ease all of it. All it took was his odd obsession with the way you specifically made his vanilla lattes, to keep him around—following your every move like he was tethered to you. 
After a while Jake found himself not only sticking around for your applaudable barista skills, because there was you. Jake never realized he could possibly laugh so hard that it hurt until he started talking to you during his morning coffee runs. Before you, he had always thought that was just an expression–how was it possible to laugh that hard? And like any other guilty pleasure Jake had, he couldn’t help himself in indulging in you, not wanting to share you with anyone else. 
After flight training, he’d unconsciously rush out of the locker rooms without saying goodbye to anyone in order to catch you after your shift. Just so he could walk you to your car as he accidentally bumps into you outside. 
And as the weeks flew by, your shared activities quickly branched out from just friendly morning chats and Jake walking you to your car. 
Now you found yourself spending weekends with him, where you had continued to make his coffee for him, but now just inside in the comfort of your own apartment. Playful conversations were had every morning, with you behind the counter and him seated across from you grinning ear to ear from hearing your laughter that he evoked from you. This became permanently ingrained into both your weekly routines. His excuse being that he can’t physically survive if you weren’t the one making him his morning coffee, so he obviously has to come see you every weekend. It was a no brainer, he told you. 
“He is ridiculous.” he affirms once more before bringing his lips back around the rim, being more careful to not get his drink onto his face this time.
Although it might have seemed like he was rambling to himself, you had been nodding and quietly reacting to every statement he made thus far–assuring him that you were paying attention to him. 
“That's funny, coming from the guy who was growing a whip cream beard one second ago.” you inquired.
“When did you stop being so nice to me?” he sulked, something he was specifically raised to never do. His father would have had a stroke if he knew his 30 year old son was habitually sulking now. But it couldn’t be helped, you drew out new behaviors from him, that he never felt ashamed about doing. 
“If I knew you were like this, I would have never pestered you at work in the first place.” Though, Jake knew that if his day had been reset from the first day you two met, he’d undoubtedly pester you every single time. 
“That’s too bad, isn't it?” You flicker some water on your finger tips at him. 
“Hey, watch it missy.” he flinches, bringing a protective palm to hover over his drink. 
“So, let me get this clear-” you redirected the conversation back to its original course. 
Jake quickly shifts his attention away from the state of his drink and back to you. 
“So Maverick..” he nods, confirming that you got his callsign right. 
“...wants you and your co-worker Rooster to spend time together outside of work. At least once a week?” you cautiously recall what he told you.
“Yeah, isn’t that horrible?” he puffs his chest in defiance, expecting you to readily agree with him. 
“Can’t be that bad though, right? Shouldn’t you two be working on becoming good friends, especially now that your dagger squad is an official detachment now? You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” you expressively shared your final thoughts with him.
He silently watches you rinse off the dishes as he soaks in what you said, with his brows pinched tightly together. You were right, he knew that. 
“We get along fine, we’re kind of cool with each other after that first mission. Why be best buds?” he deflects. 
“I want you to have more friends, Jake. Give it a shot.” you attempt to encourage him, while placing his dishes onto the drying rack carefully.
“I have you and Javy.” 
“But you can also have Rooster. And who knows, maybe everyone else on the squad too.” you offered up with a smile. 
“I have a week to plan our first bonding session.” Jake threw up his fingers in two sarcastic quotes. 
“Cute. So like a date?” 
You grinned widely watching Jake’s face fall flat. 
“God. Please.” he scoffs, trying to fight off the smile making its way onto his face. 
“Never call it a date, I’m begging you angel.” Oh. The endearment slipped from his mouth and Jake looked slightly mortified. 
Well, it’s not like you weren’t an angel in his eyes anyways, he thought.
Ignoring the flush of heat rushing to your ears, you attempt to casually brush over what he said. 
“How about. I lend you a hand, just this once.” Jake’s ear almost perks at your statement, instantly recovering from his slip up.
“I’ll set something up for you two down at the shop after I close up, all you have to do is show up.”
“Only question is, if you trust me enough with something like that.” 
Of course I do, he thinks. 
Jake wishes he could extract the part of your brain that made you doubt yourself so much. The blond couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't trust you with. And he’d seen you do it so often–second guess yourself, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel–sick at the thought that you could possibly not believe in yourself. 
“If I didn’t, would I be sitting here defenseless at your place?” He flashes his dimples at you in a reassuring smile. 
Adoration fills you completely at the sight of him, his tousled morning hair and the creases set under his eyes, marked by his smile makes you glad you decided to take residency here. This feels right, Fightertown feels right. He feels right.
“You’re lucky my love language is acts of service, Jacob Seresin.”
“Mine is physical touch.”
“Gross.” 
“Don’t believe me? Come here.” he raises his brows teasingly, getting up from his seat, making his way towards you. 
“No. Stay back.” you panic, swatting away his already outstretched arms. 
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“So…what do we think?” you were basically jittering from where you stood, a poor attempt at holding back your overflowing excitement. 
The two naval aviators stood side by side in front of you, almost mirroring each other perfectly. Expressions unreadable, hands on their hips, lips pursed and side eyeing each other—urging the other to speak first. Javy directs Jake to say something first by lifting his chin at him as Jake deadpans his best friend in response.
Between you and the pair of pilots sat a small table you manage to drag in the center of the cafe with a candle flickering in the center, surrounded by an array of chocolate croissants that you knew Jake had an insatiable craving for. The rest of the table was cramped with random assortments of new Valentines recipes you had been testing–and who better to try them than your reliable Jake and his new friend that you would assume to be in equal size as him. 
And how could he possibly crush your excitement and tell you this looks absolutely terrifying, and that he would rather do 300 pushups under the unforgiving sun than sit at this romantic table and feast on your heart shaped cookies with the likes of Rooster. 
“Well,” Coyote begins, not noticing the pointed glare Jake shoots at him. 
Jake observes you begin to shrink in front of his eyes at Javy’s tone and immediately slaps his palm over his friend’s mouth, panicked at what he’ll start to say. 
Javy stiffens, shocked that his germophobic friend had even put his hand on his face, recalling all the times Jake complained that Javy should start using cleanser for his “oily” skin. Jake even once swore he would rather eat dirt than touch Javy’s face after seeing sweat drip down his face after their first morning run together. 
“It's perfect” he swallows back any sign of hesitancy under your careful gaze.
You know he’s lying for your sake. Although he sounds sure, you could see the prominent vein in his neck protrude, a tell tale sign that he’s feeling pressured. 
“Jake..” the uncertainty in your voice makes him want to double over. Your shoulders have already slumped, his eyes frantically watching as your cardigan start to slip down your arms, exposing your bare shoulders. 
Javy’s mouth parts as he watches Jake take a big step over to you, gently pulling the sleeves of your knit cardigan up to your shoulder blades again. His hands slowly moving down to your wrist, nervously playing with the cuffs of your sleeves. 
Javy’s heart briefly swells at the sentiment, but he knows what he has to do. Jake would thank him for this later, he hopes. 
Although Jake has to be the most horrifyingly fearless pilot Javy knows, when it boils down to situations like these–he knows his best friend needs a push in the right direction or else he’ll never take the leap of faith. 
Javy pulls himself together.
“Admit that you hate it, Hangman” he speaks up, interrupting the moment.
Bewildered, Jake snaps his neck to face Javy from where he stood in front of you. 
“I do not hate it.” his southern accent is now present from being provoked. 
Javy feels glad for once that Jake is so stubborn. 
“So you’ll happily sit here with Rooster?”
“Yes.” He answers almost immediately.
“Can we join you too?” Javy quickly shoots the question.
“Of course” he answers, right away.
Javy practically glows at the sight of Jake’s eyes shooting wide open, caught off guard by his own reply. 
“Perfect. Rooster can hang with all of us.” Javy proudly grins. 
Something unfamiliar swirls at the pit of his stomach. You, Javy, and him hanging out? Sure. That's fine, as long as he sits between you two. But You, Javy, him, and Rooster? It’s unpredictable. 
When a bird flies straight into his jet unexpectedly, he can handle that–he can predict the outcome. When his jet is jeering towards a canyon and his eject button doesn't work, that’s fine he can predict his next move to get out safely. But the idea of you and Rooster in the same room makes his head spin out of control. Jake feels like his soul shifts out of his body for a moment.
“That’s a great idea Javy! Maybe we can sit in on this hangout so Jake is less nervous too.” you chime in, grabbing Jake’s hands sweetly, swinging them side to side to soothe his nerves. 
His head lowers to watch the way your small hands grip at his own calloused ones–playfully swinging your arms left to right in unison in the small space between the two of you. His eyes soften at the sight.
“I want to hear what you guys think of my new recipes too..” you add on, shyly smiling up at Jake–silently asking if that was okay with him. 
It's a done deal. He can’t take back what he says. Not when you're staring up at him like this, looking so tooth achingly sweet in his favorite white dress that you own.
“Yeah let’s do it..” he gulps.
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ughthisisntright · 9 months
Text
Add Some Spice | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader x Jake Seresin
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Summary: In a surprise turn of events, your dear fiancé surprises you with a fantasy you'd had yet to voice to him... or so you thought.
My official submission for @sushiwriterhere threesomeissance 2023!
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, threesome (mmf), p in v sex, ass play, anal, double penetration, general sexual goodness.
Word Count: 2,326
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How did you even end up here?
Sweating, writhing, dripping - some fluids not even your own - and positively undone.
Even as your cunt is filled with Jake’s cock, mouth stuffed with Bradley’s, your mind can still replay the series of events that started this entire evening. What was a harmless fantasy you'd shared with a girlfriend of yours has turned into possibly the most erotic moment of your life.
Up until now, at least.
“Oh, my God!” Your friend - Alisha - cackled. “You're not serious?”
“No way!” You laughed before sipping your drink, rounding the bar at the Hard Deck to get a little closer to where Bradley stood playing pool with the guys. “I’d let each of them take their turn with me, hands down.”
“You’re filthy!” Alisha hollered, laughing at your frankness. “But…” She glanced out at the men, beginning to nod as understanding dawned on her. “Yeah, okay, I’d totally let them ping-pong me like the slutty thing I am. Or, at least, would be for them.” You playfully smacked her arm.
“That's my fiancé you're talking about,” you warned sarcastically. The two of you doubled over in giggles as you walked back to the group of aviators gathered around the pool table.
Bradley felt your warmth and slowly snaked his arm around your waist as you sidled up next to him, kissing the top of your head as he usually did. As far as you knew, the tall brunette hadn't heard a lick of what you and your friend were so brazenly daydreaming about. He sipped his beer, stared straight ahead, and his mind swam with exactly how he would pull this off for you…
-
Bradley approached Jake later that same night, the most uncomfortable look on his face that the Southern man had ever seen. Bradley’s hands fidgeted at his sides as he walked up to him at the bar, having excused himself to get another beer and using it as the perfect cover to talk. And, as he approached, Jake’s heart sank into his gut as the possible scenarios of what he was about to hear ran in his mind.
“Hey, man,” Bradley grunted. “Got a sec?”
“I dunno,” Jake turned to look at the bombshell wiggling her fingers at him in the corner. “Ah, shit, why not? What's up?”
“Got kind of a… Weird question,” he continued.
“Uh-oh, trouble in love land?” Jake drawled with a grin. “What happened?”
“Nothing! I just… I overheard her talking with Alisha and… Well,” Bradley shifted on his feet, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
“Spit it out, man, I’ve got a clock here.” Jake seemed irritated already. Bradley wasn't sure if he could do this.
“She said something about… Wanting us to take turns with her. In bed,” Bradley looked like he was going to pass out. Jake stood there gaping at Bradley, searching his face for any sign of this being a joke. A cruel, sick, stupid joke. When he received no indication, he cleared his throat.
“Well,” Jake started, uneasy. “I guess… Uh, maybe you should talk to her about it?”
“Nah, see-” Bradley looked around to make sure you weren't near them. “I’m kind of down for it. Only if you are, though.”
Jake’s eyes seemed to light up at the suggestion. Was he down for it? He’s been down bad for you since he laid eyes on you, until he realized you were spoken for and stepped back. And then, when it was Bradley whom you were spoken for, it made it all that much harder.
Bradley couldn't help but draw into himself as his words hung in the air. He was sure Jake was about to laugh in his face, tell everyone, then move on. He was sure you’d be mortified that he’d overheard you. He was even more sure, though, that this would make you happy. After all, it’s nice to mix things up in the bedroom.
And then, just as Bradley was about to chuckle, clear his throat and suggest it was just a bad idea and tell Jake to forget about it, Jake’s voice cut through the agony in his head.
“I’ll do it.”
-
It was all a blur from there. Bradley approaching you, that warm, sweet smile you've loved for so many years. And hands - hands that weren't his - settling on your hips. You remember feeling anxious. But… With Bradley looking at you so sweetly, how could you resist your man?
“Heard you needed somethin’ from me, sugar,” Jake drawled against your ear. “Bradley told me everything.”
“What… What?” You breathed out the words softly, stunned.
“I heard you and Alisha, baby girl,” Bradley piped up. “Such a naughty little fantasy you shared. And so…”
“Scandalous,” Jake finished. “How could I refuse such an offer?” His hands traveled up your loose-fitting t-shirt and fingertips ghosted over the soft skin of your stomach.
Bradley walked up to you and placed a hand on the side of your neck. Looking back up at him, doe-eyed and stunned, he smirked and slid his hand down your face only to wrap it around your neck loosely.
“Jake?”
“Hmm?”
“Let’s go have some fun.”
-
So now, here you are, a mix of sweat and cum and stuffed completely full of the two aviators. The lewd sounds of skin slapping together and your own choking radiate throughout the room. You’re positively delirious with pleasure and Bradley - sweet, sweet Bradley - knows exactly what you need.
Bradley looks down at you as he fucks your mouth and runs a big hand through your hair to pull it out of your face. You open your eyes to look at him, cheeks hollowed out, sucking his painfully-hard cock. He gives you the darkest grin you’ve ever seen on his beautiful face.
“So pretty,” he growls. “So full of us. You must be on cloud fucking nine, baby girl.”
Jake’s fingers dig hard into the flesh of your hips. You’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there come morning. And you're sure Bradley will kiss them with the tender touch he always showered you with. The bruising pace Jake set behind you reminded you of the delicate way in which Bradley loves you.
And you need that reminder.
“Mnh-nh!” Your moans fall around Bradley’s cock as he tilts his head back.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans. “Feels so good when you moan for me.”
“You're sweating, Bradshaw-” Jake hisses.
“So are you,” Bradley retorts. “How's she looking?”
“So pretty,” Jake grunts and slows down a little. He leans his head forward, letting some spit dribble from his mouth. You feel it dripping down the crack of your ass and you whine around Bradley. You know where this is going.
“Gonna get prettier, darlin’,” Jake drawls. He uses his fingers to spread his spit around your ass hole. Testing the waters, he presses the pads of his fingers to the opening and pushes them in just a touch. The way you clamped around him had him seeing stars.
“Oh, pretty girl, you're squeezin’ me so hard,” he groans. He feels you loosen up and continues pushing his fingers inside you. Knuckle-deep, he chuckles in satisfaction. Your mewls around Bradley’s cock were music to his ears.
He resumes his relentless pace and his eyes snap to meet Bradley’s. Bradley looks close, he can tell by the strain of the veins in his neck. A dark grin crosses the Southern man’s face.
“Gonna cum in her filthy mouth, Bradshaw?” Jake coos. Bradley lets out a huff of air and shakes his head. “Sure looks like it. Fuck, look at you,”
Bradley looks down at his own cock stuffed in your mouth, the tears in your eyes and hears the way Jake taunts him. His lip twitches and he lets out a shattered breath.
“Fuck-hhh you- Jake!” He cries out and pulls his cock from your mouth, squirting his hot cum all over your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, thankful none of it got in them. You drool as you feel the liquid dripping down your face, moaning softly,
“Damn, Bradshaw-” Jake hisses. “You made a mess,” he feels your walls flutter around his cock and simply holds his thick fingers inside your ass. They're in deep and you can only feel pleasure.
“Shit, she looks so pretty like this.” Bradley leans his head back against the wall and looks down at you, languidly stroking his cock as he watches his release dripping off your chin. “Never painted your face before, baby, I think I’ll keep doing that.”
You moan in response and feel Jake’s cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you've never felt before with Bradley. You assume it's because of his fingers being stuffed to the knuckle inside your ass. And you'd have to convince Bradley to do the same tomorrow night.
Bradley swipes his thumb across your cheek and smirks. He brings the digit up to Jake’s mouth and feeds him the cooling fluid. Jake happily accepts his cum and stares him in the eyes, establishing some kind of dominance.
“A-Ahhhah, Jake I-I’m gonna- Fuck! I’m gonna cum-mmm!” Your babbling snaps him from his trance. He grinds against you and forces his cock impossibly deeper which sends you into a tizzy.
Bradley brings his fingers down to stroke your aching clit and just like that - they’ve got you. You clamp down around Jake’s cock as he pumps in and out of you, cumming harder than you ever have. You shriek their names, throat ripped to shreds before Bradley's lips close over yours in a bruising kiss.
Jake’s hips slam into yours harshly and you can feel him twitch inside you, spilling himself inside you violently. He grunts an animalistic sound you've never heard before and squeezes your hips in his large hands.
You're left a panting, moaning mess. Bradley’s cum still on your face, growing colder by the minute. Jake sits inside you still and Bradley is soothing your burning skin with his gentle hands. Jake finally pulls out of you and you collapse into a heap on top of your fiancé.
“Oh, sugar,” Bradley chuckles. “You're cute if you think we're done.”
Your whine of exhaustion must be a secret code word for them, as Jake is gathering you up and laying back, pulling your back flush against his as he lays down. You feel his pulsing erection at your ass hole and whimper softly. You know exactly what this means.
“Gonna go slow, darlin’,” Jake whispers huskily in your ear. “Gonna make you scream again. Right, Bradshaw?” Another chuckle comes from above you - Bradley.
“She sounds so pretty when she screams for us, Seresin.”
Jake slowly pushes himself inside your ass, your teeth gritting and grinding as he stretches your hole wide open. You hiss in pain but the relaxation of your muscles brings incredible pleasure. You cry out softly as the full feeling begins to make you shiver.
“Oh, God, Jakey…” you whine. “S’Good…”
Bradley’s fingers poke and prod at your still-leaking cunt. You keen loudly at the feeling, already knowing now what the two had planned.
“Baby girl, fuck. You're squeezing the life outta poor Jake back there,” Bradley huffs. “Let's see how much more room you've got…”
He climbs over your body, and Jake's, and pushes his cock inside your cunt. Slowly, inch by inch, he seats himself fully inside you. Your strangled cries of pleasure are indication enough that they haven't hurt you. His hands are planted on either side of both your heads as he begins to pull out, only to snap his hips back to yours.
Jake moans as he feels you clench around him and Bradley, also loving the feeling of Bradley’s balls bumping against his. It's more intimate than he was planning on but fuck, if it didn't feel good. Your whimpering was simply music to their ears.
Bradley grunts and picks up the pace, Jake beginning to move inside you as well. You're overwhelmed with pleasure feeling their cocks slide past each other from the two angles they hit. Your eyes roll back in your head and you're babbling fucked-out nonsense as they fill you to the brim.
“Hah, baby girl, fuck,” Bradley grunts desperately. “So fuckin’ tight, I’m gonna cum again-”
“She's got a vice grip on me, Bradshaw, holy shit.” Jake’s voice is wrecked and you can tell he's trying to hold back. He’ll cum soon, too.
“Wanna cum baby? Need to cum?” Bradley teases. You nod your head in a daze and squeeze your eyes shut as his hand comes down to assault your clit.
“Cum, darlin’,” Jake hisses. “Fucking cum already.”
Snap.
Your scream rips through your throat as your orgasm washes over you. It's the longest orgasm you've ever had, and by far the most intense. It causes your fingers to tingle and toes to curl. You're left a crying, drooling mess.
Jake cums shortly after you, Bradley in tow. They grunt and groan your name as they fill your body once again. Bradley, spent from the marathon he just ran with the two of you, folds over you, still seated inside you. Jake pulls out of you and whimpers in exhaustion. A sound none of you were expecting.
In a daze, you feel Bradley pull you off of Jake and onto his chest. You wrap yourself around him and bury your face in his neck. All you need now is him. Your loving husband-to-be.
“I got you, baby,” he coos. “I've always got you.”
Jake smiles down at the two of you before sitting back. Bradley looks over at him and gives him a knowing nod of approval, which Jake returns. As if this was a “bro” thing that they'd arranged. You, on the other hand, are just a jelly mess of limbs and tingling all over.
“Jake,” Bradley hums.
“Bradshaw?” Jake answers.
“Appreciate your time,” your fiancé says with a smirk.
“Anytime.”
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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months
Text
The year is 1995 and Mav disappears off radars on a mission overseas. He's declared MIA and then when satellite pictures of an F-14's wreck show up, declared KIA.
It's a hot August evening when Ice opens his front doors to see a Navy officer with a precisely folded flag in his arms and a JAG lawyer with a suitcase full of documents. Baby Goose should be already sleeping upstairs, preparing for their planned camping trip the day after.
Ice lets them in without a word.
They walk past the living room where Ice had been checking their tent for rust, straight to the kitchen table. They don't sit down.
"On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy—"
"Spare me the bullshit."
He's still holding the flag, letter on top of it, seal unbroken.
"Why are you even here? I'm not his—" Loved one. Ice was just—there. A close friend. A wingman. It doesn't matter whether he loves Mav or not, he will always be just someone in his life, not his loved one. "I'm just his best friend."
"Commander Mitchell stated this address as Bradley Bradshaw's main residence during deployment."
Jesus Christ. He can't—Bradley. What was he going to tell Bradley?
"Commander Mitchell's sole beneficiary is Bradley Bradshaw, and since he's a minor, we need to execute his will alongside our condolences." Bradley lost another parent. And all he has left is a will. "You've been named as Bradley Bradshaw's legal guardian if Commander Mitchell was—unable to take care of him."
"He's never told me that."
He didn't. Not even a word. He knew Mav had a will, they all did. But he never thought enough to make sense of the details.
It couldn't be Ice. He couldn't exist on paper in Mav's life or in Bradley's life.
"You can refuse—"
Ice phases out the words that come after — Mav can't be gone, Mav couldn't have left Bradley to him, Mav couldn't have thought he would be able to care for Bradley alone, without Mav's help and guidance. He couldn't have left them both there with broken hearts.
Ice doesn't believe this. It can't be true. If he stares long enough, the two officers in front of him are going to disappear and he will get a late night call from Mav from the ship and will wake up Baby Goose so they could chat and—
"Ice, I know I should be asleep but can we check if we got enough jars for bugs? I really want to—"
Ice finally comes back to the surroundings.
Bradley stands in the kitchen door, noticing the two people in there, in uniforms. "I'm sorry, sirs, I didn't know—"
At that exact moment, Bradley notices the flag and the unopen letter. He can see it nice and clear — his face falls and he doesn't look at anything but the goddamn flag and the stupid letter made on behalf of the President.
Ice stops breathing. "Bradley—"
"No," he says, shaking his head, so quiet. "Not again, no—"
Before Ice can say anything, Bradley is running back up the stairs.
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