#Bradley bradshaw smut

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 6

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Lots of Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies, Knife Injury’s and Attempted Murder

- Part 5 Here -

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18+ Only

Authors note: Sorry this part took so long! I initially wrote one version, hated it and then rewrote it completely, still not overly happy with it but heyoooo! Enjoy.

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Almost as soon as Bob had left and you’d waved him down your road, your bags not even having been taken inside yet, Bradley pulled up on your drive.




“Y/N, wait, please.” He called from the front seat of the bronco.




You rolled you eyes and sighed, picking up your bags.




“Not now, Brad. I’m tired and uncomfortable and I really just wanna have a shower.”




He climbed out of the Bronco and followed you up the drive, grabbing your bags out of your hands.




“Just give me 10 minutes, please?” He asked.




“Why?” You snapped, “What is the point of all of this?”




“What do you mean what is the point of all of this? You’re just going to kiss me like that and think everything will just go away?” His voice rose an octave.




“Shh! My mom’s inside and I really really don’t wanna have to explain to her why you just said that.” You covered your face with your hands as you groaned.




“Then come over to mine, please. You can shower and we can talk.”




“No, just leave me alone Brad.”




“Y/N… please.” He was earnest, his eyes pleading.




You sighed as you considered it, biting your cheek, and eventually nodded.




“Okay, fine. Shower first, then talk.”




Bradley nodded back and you followed him to his house. He placed your bags in his bedroom and lingered by the door.




“Remember the last time you were in this room? Punched me right here.” He chuckled, patting his shoulder.




You rolled your eyes but a little chuckle did escape you.




Bradley gave you some space to get yourself refreshed. You pulled out your jeans and a tank top, some bottles of body and hair wash, and your moisturiser.




Bradley’s bathroom was small but it was all you needed, you put your clothes on the toilet seat and climbed into the shower.




You sighed as the hot water washed the dried salt from the sea off of your skin and hair.




You didn’t spend long in there, and once you’d moisturised and gotten dressed you took a deep breath and made your way out.




You were anxious, not sure you really had the emotional energy to discuss what had happened with Bradley, but you had agreed to, so you walked to the living room where he sat waiting for you.




He stood as you walked in, hands on his hips awkwardly as he gestured for you to sit.




“Brad can you just spit it out, please?” You huffed impatiently, opting to stand.




He nodded for a moment, then took a deep breath, “I have feelings for you.”




You were silent as you stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was being serious.




“Please could you say something?” He rubbed his face.




“What kind of feelings?” You asked hesitantly.




Bradley sighed, “You’re a huge pain in my ass… but all I wanna do is kiss you.”




You shuffled uncomfortably, “So you just want me to be another notch on your belt?”




He rubbed his face in frustration again, “No.” hands back on the hips, “It’s not like that.”




“Then explain it to me.” You insisted.




“Why? Don’t you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”




“No, Brad! If you were anyone else maybe I would take you at your word, but can you blame me for needing a little more reassurance from you?”




“What do you want me to say? Huh? That I’m falling for you, and that over the last week I’ve really enjoyed planning with you, and now I can’t stop thinking about you, and looking at you? That I wanna hold you and kiss you so much it hurts me? Because I do, okay? Is that what you want?” He yelled.




That was exactly what you wanted, but you wanted more.




“The kiss last night, and on the boat earlier, were they real?” You asked.




“Real? Y/N, what kind of question is that? Do you go around fake kissing people like that?” He laughed in exasperation.




“Just answer the question, Brad. Was it real or just for show?”




“It was real! Okay? I’d been trying to think of a way to kiss you ever since you made that stupid no kissing rule, and the more you did to annoy me or piss me off, the more I wanted you.” His face was red now and he was ranting. “God, and then you put on that damn dress and I nearly lost my mind, you made it so difficult to separate what was real and what was for show and-“




You grabbed Bradley by his shirt and pulled him into you, your lips pressed against his just so he would shut up.




“You talk too much.” You joked as you pulled back for air, immediately returning for more.




He groaned loudly, a little surprised, and his arm wrapped across your lower back, pulling you flush against him.




Your fingers tangled in his messy curls and he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist, giving you a better angle to deepen the kiss.




“Does that mean you feel the same?” Bradley grunted between kisses.




“Just shut up and kiss me, Bradshaw.”




He did as instructed, and suddenly your back was up against a wall and his soft lips migrated south to your neck and collar bone.




You hummed at the feeling and gasped as Bradley ground his hips into yours.




“Now that…your mouth is free… tell me how you feel.” He mumbled against your skin.




You chuckled, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling, “I think you’re alright.”




Bradley nipped your skin, “Don’t quote Shania Twain right now. The truth.”




“Fine.” You huffed, and his hands slid under your shirt, wrapping around your waste as he ground his hips again. “I… I’ve always had a crush on you… but this weekend… oh do I really need to say it?”




“Yes.” He mumbled into your skin again.




“I think I’m falling for you too…” you breathed.




Bradley immediately found your lips again, hungrily this time, and carried you to the couch, laying you on your back.




“Good girl.” Now he was kissing the skin on your stomach and rib cage, his fingers hooked into your jeans as he tugged.




You lifted your butt to help him and you were suddenly very relieved that you had grabbed your good lacy underwear before showering.




Bradley’s lips slowly edged downwards and peppered your hips, his fingers gently running along the top of your underwear.




Your hands moved to his back and you grabbed a handful of his t-shirt, pulling the garment over his head and flinging it to the floor.




You couldn’t get over how his body had changed over the years, he looked like a golden god, and you ran your fingers down the muscles on his back as Bradley kissed your lips again, his hand cupping your jaw gently.




You bucked your hips into his, desperate to feel him again, but a big hand pressed down on your belly to stop you.




“Nuh uh.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Ask nicely.”




You sat upright, Bradley still on all fours between your now bent legs. “Make me.”




He leaned forward to kiss you again, his hand grabbed your ankle and pulled you back down into a laying position. “Now, ask nicely.” He repeated.




You grinned playfully, “Please… please grow up.” You teased. Bradley quirked an eyebrow.




“Oh so that’s how you wanna play?” He growled, pressing his lips back on yours, kissing down your chin and neck. If that’s how you wanted to play, Bradley was going to show you how he could outplay you, and his thumb moved down to stroke over your clothed core gently.




You moaned at the feeling and bucked your hips again. He held you down and continued his movements over the lacy undergarment.




You clenched your teeth at the lack of control this gave you, at his teasing, at the fact that you were doing this with someone you, until very recently, couldn’t stand to be in the same room as.




You were getting very hot very quickly, so you discarded your tank top, your matching bra suddenly catching Bradley’s attention.




“Have you been wearing underwear like this the whole time?”




“Well, since after school, yeah.” You rolled your eyes as your chuckled, out of breath.




Bradley was practically salivating as he gently squeezed one of your boobs, “The matching set was a good call.”




You swatted his hand away, “I’ve taken off enough clothes now, time for you to lose the jeans, Bradshaw.”




He got up and shimmied out of his jeans, standing in just his boxers in front of you. You gulped at the size of whatever he was hiding under them, you’d felt it a few times now but it certainly looked bigger than you’d expected.




Bradley gazed down at you longingly, your beautiful form below him in your lacy underwear that was begging to be torn off of you.




Suddenly his attention was drawn to the window, and his eyes widened.




“Shit.” He hissed, dropping onto the couch and hovering over you as he ducked his head below the back of the couch.




“What?” You asked, your heart rate speeding up for an entirely different reason now.




He dipped his head just inches from yours and whispered, “It’s Angie.”




You sighed in annoyance, “Did she see you?”




Bradley shook his head, “Don’t think so.”




Then there was a loud knock on the door, and you both kept quiet as you waited, bodies pressed scandalously together, waiting impatiently for more.




Another knock followed by a frustrated voice, “I know you’re there, your car is in the drive next door.”




You waited in silence a little longer, and then Bradley carefully poked his head up over the couch when the knocking stopped.




“She’s leaving.” He whispered.




“Thank god.” You felt a sense of relief, you could not deal with more drama right now.




You and Bradley stared at each other for a moment, and then you both started laughing.




He pressed his lips to yours softly, and you relished the feeling, your legs wrapped around him again and his fingers dipped into the side of your underwear, slowly tugging them down.




Bradley lifted your legs and discarded your underwear, and you suddenly felt embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him. That was until he grunted in approval.




“Fuck, you are just perfect all over aren’t you?”




You blushed bright red, but propped yourself up on your elbows to kiss him hungrily. His hand snuck behind your back and he snapped the clasp of your bra off.




Now that you were entirely naked before him, something animalistic inside Bradley took over.




His hands pawed and grasped at your flesh as he kissed your lips hungrily, then trailing down your body like he had to cover you with searing kisses completely.




His lips were getting dangerously close to your sensitive area but he was taking his time teasing you, peppering kisses along your abdomen and thighs.




You bit your lip as he got closer, closer, and suddenly his tongue flattened against your core and he licked a long, slow stripe through your lips.




Your back arched and your head dug back into the pillow as you moaned loudly. He did that two more times, and then his soft lips moved to suck gently at your sensitive bundle of nerves.




His eyes never leaving your beautiful, arching form, his tongue darted back out to dip into you, his thumb now rubbing circles expertly against your clit as his tongue fucked you.




“Brad!” You gasped, “Fuck.”




He smirked, licking another slow stripe to your clit. He gave you a very short breather when he removed his mouth and sucked two of his fingers. He slid them through your folds and pressed them into you.




You gasped at the stretch as he pumped them in and out, and shook as he curled them into your g-spot, his lips and tongue returning to their place on your clit.




You were doing a bad job at containing yourself, with one hand covering your mouth and another in Bradley’s hair. Bradley grinding against the couch did little to prevent the coil building inside of you and all you could think about was him grinding into you instead.




You were so close, so painfully close, when you both jumped as you heard glass smashing and the back door to the kitchen opening.




Bradley pulled out of you carefully and you immediately covered yourself with a large pillow.




“What the fuck was that?” You panted.




Bradley motioned for you to stay where you were as he stood slowly. He picked up a paperweight from the mantelpiece and edged towards the kitchen from the hallway.




You held your breath, quickly throwing your clothes back on as best you could before following.




You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Bradley yell and something metallic clang to the floor. The paperweight?




“Fuck! Angie, what are you doing here?” He cursed.




You let out a deflated sigh and walked into the kitchen, annoyed but relieved.




You stood just behind Bradley, and Angie’s face twisted in dismay.




“I knew it!” She spat, a large rock from Bradley’s back garden clutched in her hand.




“You broke my back door, Angie, what the fuck? You can’t just break in if I don’t answer the door!” Bradley exclaimed.




You hung back behind Bradley’s large frame, unsure of what Angie would do.




“You said there was nothing going on!” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at you, tears streaming down her face.




You stepped forward carefully, hands held out as you edged around Bradley. “Angie I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would happen, I didn’t think he felt the same way about me, but-“




“I don’t care about your excuses, you said I could have him once you had played your silly game!”




“Angie, I don’t feel that way about you.” Bradley interjected, and she looked taken aback, like she’d just been punched in the face.




“But… you slept with me.”




“Yes I know, I’m sorry. I was drunk and your name was the first one in my contacts, and truth be told you were the only ex that hadn’t already blocked me. I shouldn’t have done that, we were finished and… that’s all it was Angie, it was just sex.”




You felt bad for Angie suddenly, but she was taking things way too far.




She stood for a while just looking between you and Bradley before her eyes finally settled on you.




“This is all because of you. Before you, I stood a chance.” Her voice was now low, monotone, very different to her usual high pitched treble.




You suddenly felt very uncomfortable and stood a tiny step back, Bradley stepping forward in front of you.




“I think you should leave, Angie.” Bradley stated.




She didn’t move, still staring at you through the gap in Bradley’s arm, her blue eyes intensely boring into yours.




She must have been assessing her surroundings, because suddenly, almost too quickly to react, Angie grabbed a kitchen knife from the rack and lunged at Bradley.




The knife skimmed his bicep, slicing Bradley as she directed it towards you.




Thankfully Bradley’s reflexes were too quick, and he knocked Angie’s hand away from you, the force sending her reeling backwards on the slippery kitchen floor.




“Go!” He yelled, pushing you out of the kitchen and into the hallway.




You could feel Bradley behind you, ushering you towards the front door, until suddenly you couldn’t anymore.




You glanced back over your shoulder and your heart stopped.




Bradley lay on his front, barely having made it out of the kitchen. Angie had stabbed him in his shoulder blade and was wiggling the knife out in an attempt to get up and chase you, but the knife was wedged in the bone. Bradley yelled out in pain, thrashing and trying to get her to the ground.




You immediately ran back, shoving her shoulders hard and sending her flying off of his back. Unfortunately this also dislodged the knife, and as she flew back she swung through the air and the knife caught your shoulder.




You clutched at the bleeding skin for a second, quickly realising you needed to get Bradley up and out of the house before she regained her balance.




You helped him up and you both ran for the door as quick as you could. Bradley grabbed the handle and pulled.




“Fuck!” Bradley slammed his fists into the door as he realised he’d locked it out of habit and the keys were on the living room coffee table.




He turned to face Angie who stood between you and the living room door, the one beautiful red head now deranged and terrifying. Panic sweeped over you as you considered your options.




“Brad, as soon as she turns around, go get the keys and get help.” You stated very quietly as you stared her down.




“What are you taking about?” Bradley asked.




You quickly lunged towards Angie and she swung the knife.




“Y/N!” Bradley yelled, reaching out to grab you and pull you back. You were already too far and out of his reach. Bradleys heart stopped as the knife missed your jugular by mere millimetres, and you dropped to your knees and crawled past her.




She screamed in frustration, whipping around.




You quickly stood to your feet and ran down the hall and around the corner to the bedrooms.




Bradley took the opportunity to grab the keys from the living room, and quickly unlocked the front door, leaving it ajar before running back towards the bedrooms to find you.




The door to his room was now closed, but neither you nor Angie were in sight. He tried the door handle but the door was locked.




“Y/N?” He called, panicked, wiggling the handle as hard as he could.




Suddenly a scream from inside the bedroom echoed through the house, so loud and shrill it made Bradley’s blood run cold.




He threw his body against the door once, twice, and the third time the door flew open.




Bradley stood and stared at the scene unfolding before him, before a ringing in his hears took over his senses and he dropped to his knees.




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Fatal Attraction vibes much?

- Final Part Here -

Taglist:

@dizzybee03 @cheyrenee @flowery-mess @wildxwidow @residentb1tch @championemmie @mycrofthomlesumbrella @sydneejean @milegonzalez96 @minnie-rae

[sometimesanalice]

Between Friends

Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 11K

Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat

(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)

𝐍𝐎𝐖

Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.

That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.

It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.

Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn��t know what your answer was going to be.

So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him. 

All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.

Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first.  He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.

The two of you had never talked about it in the after.

Not once, not ever.

He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.

Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”

“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.

Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.

He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.

Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.

Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.

You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.

Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.

He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.

He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.

Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”

It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.

He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.

Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.

He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.

His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure. 

Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.

It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?

Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.

He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.

But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.

You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.

It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.

And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.

You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.

He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.

Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.

You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months. 

“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.

Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.

You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.

After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.

It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.

He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.

You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”

“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.

You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.

“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.

“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”

“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.

And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.

Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”

He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”

It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.

The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.

Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.

He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.

The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.

You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.

But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.

It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.

The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.

If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.

The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other  as you took it all in.

You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.  

He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.

You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break.  But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.

He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”

“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.

“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”

You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar. 

“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.

Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”

You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.

“How are things with your Dad?”

You offer him a shrug.

He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.

“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.

You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.

You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”

Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”

“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.

“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.

Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.

“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”

Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.

He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.

Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.

It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.

He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.

And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.

Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.

His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.

“Your first…”

You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”

Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.

Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling. 

“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.

And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.

The girl who just asked him to be her first.

He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.

The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm. 

“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”

“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”

“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”

You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.

There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”

“No,” Bradley says, honestly.

He knows you’re just trying to make a point.

The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.

You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.

“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.

He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”

And he means it.

Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.

You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself. 

“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”

Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.

“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”

“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.

He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.

“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”

The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.

“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”

Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”

“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.

He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.

When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.

He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.

You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”

“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”

He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?

“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”

You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”

It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.

“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”

The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.

“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”

Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”

You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.

When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”

That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.

“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”

You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”

“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”

“What a stud,” you tease.

This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.

You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”

He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.

“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.

“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”  

He wipes his hands on his pants.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”

He nods, “Then I guess we just…”

He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.

You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.

In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.

While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.

You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.

His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.

As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.

You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.

It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.

You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.

“Bradley?”

The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.

He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.

Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.

Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.

The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.

You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.

It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.

He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.

“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.

“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.

“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.

He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.

You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.

“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”

His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.

“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”

You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.

You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.

“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”

He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.

“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”

This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.

You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.

You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.

It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.

Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.

His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.

He notices. Of course he notices.

“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.

“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.

“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”

You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.

And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.

His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”

Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.

In his bed. Because of him.

He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.

Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.

You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.

“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”

You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”

“Such a smartass,” he grins.

Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.

You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.

He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.

“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”

“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.

He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.

Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.

“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.

He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.

Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.

He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.

You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.

You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.

“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”

“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”

“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.

“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”

And then he fills you with two fingers.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.

The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.

Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.

“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.

“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”

He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.

Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.

You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.

He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.

Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”

He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”

You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”

“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.

“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.

He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.

“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.

He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”

A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.

“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.

Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.

You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.

“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”

“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”

He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.

And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.

Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.

His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”

You nod before he even finishes the question.

“Do you have-”

He nods before you finish yours.

“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.

You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.

Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.

He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.

“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.

“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”

Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.

You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.

He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.

You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.

God, does he want this to be good for you.

He takes a breath.

And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.

Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.

His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.

When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.

He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.

The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.

You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.

Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.

There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.

Little by little. Inch by inch.

You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.

“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.

“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.

There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath.

Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.

He reads the question in your eyes.

“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.

You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”

He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”

Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.

His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.

It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.

You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.

He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.

“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”

 “You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.

He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.

Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.

His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.

It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.

You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.

You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.

You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.

“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”

He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.

You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.

It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.

The hum of the fan.

The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.

The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.

In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.

He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.

“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.

He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.

You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.

Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.

“Anything for you, kid.”

Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.

It was just… something between friends.

A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.

Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.

The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.

You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.

Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.

Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”

Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You grin because it feels like a checkmate.

“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”

He looks thunderstruck.

You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.

You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.

Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.

“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.

“June,” you promise.

And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.

He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”

𝐍𝐎𝐖

You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.

And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.

You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.

Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.

When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.

He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.

You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”

“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.

“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”

“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”

You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.

“Here and now,” he confirms.

You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”

“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”

The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.

“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”

You see him fight back a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”

You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.

The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.

Just friends don’t look at each other like this.

“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.

How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.

How he’s looking at you like you’re his.

“I know.”

He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.

“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”

“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”

“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”

You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”

“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”

“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.

“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”

You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.

“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.

Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.

“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”

He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.

“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.

“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”

Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.

He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.

His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.

You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.

“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.

You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.

“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”

“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.

It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.

As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.

Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.

It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.

He kisses you like he knows you.

Because he does.

Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.

That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you. 

The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.

He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.

And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.

Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!

A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!

Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

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

[rootedinrevisions]

No Nut November...or Not

SUMMARY: When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun?

A/N: Thank you so much to the Nonny who sent in this request! This one is a little more outside my comfort zone than what I normally write, but I think it turned out okay. Please let me know how you feel about it!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT. (Lingerie, Spanking, Slight Dom, Unprotected Sex (be responsible people), P in V (reverse cowgirl), Voyeurism/Exhibitionism (not sure if this counts in a poly relationship but including it in case)

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The Hard Deck was alive with its usual hum of chatter and laughter, the jukebox belting out an old rock anthem. You leaned back in your chair, nursing a cold beer as you watched Jake and Bradley settle into their usual rhythm.

Jake smirked, his signature cocky grin firmly in place as he tipped his bottle toward Bradley. “Face it, Bradshaw, you just can’t handle the pressure. That’s why I’m better at pretty much everything.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, though the twitch of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. “You keep telling yourself that, Bagman. Last time I checked, you couldn’t keep up with me in the air…let alone other places.”

His gaze then shifted to you and he shot you a wink. You hid your smile behind your bottle, enjoying the way their bickering played out like clockwork. It was endearing in its own way, how the two of them always seemed to push each other just to prove who could come out on top.

“Alright, alright,” you interjected, setting your drink down and tilting your head at them. “What’s it going to be this time? Another darts match? Arm wrestling in the middle of Penny’s bar?”

“Don’t even think about it boys,” she interjects from behind the bar causing your lips to curve into a smirk.

Jake turned to you with a gleam in his eye, his grin widening. “Nah, that would be too easy, sweetheart. I’m thinking something better. Something that requires real willpower.”

Bradley scoffed, but there was a flicker of curiosity on his face. “What are you thinking, Hangman?”

Jake leaned forward, bracing one elbow on the table. “No Nut November.”

The words hung in the air for a beat before you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your beer. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” Jake looked over at Bradley, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Think you’ve got the guts to keep it together for a whole month, Bradshaw? Or are you gonna fold like you always do?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes, his lips curving into a slow, confident smile. “You’re on. But don’t come crying to me when you lose after, what, three days?”

“Three days?” Jake repeated mock outrage in his tone. “I’ve got steel discipline, Bradshaw. You’re the one who’s always got his head in the clouds.”

“Oh, this is good,” you said, shaking your head in amusement. You could already tell where this was headed, and it was going to be entertaining, to say the least

“What’s the wager?” Bradley asked, his eyes not leaving Jake.

“The usual,” Jake said with a shrug. “Loser has to do whatever the winner says. No complaints, no excuses.”

Bradley nodded, extending his hand across the table. “Deal.”

They shook on it, their grips firm and their gazes locked in mutual defiance. You snipped your beer, biting back a grin as an idea began to form in your mind.

If they were really going to go through with this, you might as well make it interesting. After all, wasn’t it your duty as their partner to keep them on their toes?

“I hope you two are ready,” you said, your voice deceptively sweet as you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Because I’m not about to make this easy for either of you.”

Jake arched a brow, his smirk faltering just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flashing across his face. But neither of them had the chance to respond before you stood, finishing the last of your drink and setting the bottle down with a soft clink.

“Good luck, boys,” you said, giving them a wink before walking away.

Behind you, you could hear Jake muttering, “What the hell does that mean?”

The next evening, the glow of the Hard Deck’s neon lights and the buzz of competitive banter were a distant memory. In their place was the soft hum of music drifting from the living room speaker and the warmth of home-cooked comfort filling the air.

Jake and Bradley’s off-base apartment had always been a haven of sorts—a space where the three of you could unwind, trading the chaos of your days for shared laughter and easy companionship, and a lot of physicality. Tonight was no different.

You stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a grin tugging at your lips as you recalled the way Jake and Bradley had shaken on their bet the night before, each so sure of their resolve. It was all in good fun, of course, but watching them try to outlast each other was going to be a source of endless entertainment. Especially if you had anything to say about it.

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment kitchen as you stirred a simmering pot on the stove. Bradley leaned beside you, chopping vegetables with steady precision, while Jake stood at the counter, tossing together a salad. It was a rare quiet evening for the three of you, the kind of domestic tranquility that felt all the more special amidst the chaos of naval schedules.

You glanced at Bradley out of the corner of your eye. He was focused on his task, the rhythmic thwack of the knife against the cutting board filling the space between the three of you.

Setting the spoon aside, you turned toward him, brushing your hand lightly along the small of his back as you reached for the bowl beside him. “Thanks for helping out,” you said, your voice casual but laced with a subtle warmth.

“No problem,” Bradley replied, his tone as calm as ever. He didn’t look up from the cutting board, his focus unbroken.

Undeterred, you let your fingers linger a moment longer than necessary before pulling away, casually brushing against his forearm as you leaned over to grab a kitchen towel. Still no reaction—though you noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

From across the kitchen, Jake chuckled softly. You looked over your shoulder to find him watching with a smug grin, one eyebrow raised as if to say, “Really? Is that all you’ve got?”

Game on.

Turning back to Bradley, you stepped closer, reaching for the bowl of chopped veggies just as he finished. 

“Let me get that,” you said, letting your fingers trail along his wrist as you took the bowl from him. This time, there was the faintest flicker of something in his expression, but he quickly masked it, his lips curving into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, placing the bowl on the counter and brushing past Jake on your way to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes on you, but he didn’t say a word, his hands continuing to toss the salad with deliberate nonchalance. Smiling to yourself, you opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of wine, taking your time as you returned to the counter.

Jake didn’t react when you sidled up beside him, leaning slightly against his arm as you reached for a corkscrew. But when your fingers brushed his wrist—lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his skin—his hands faltered, sending a stray piece of lettuce tumbling onto the floor.

“Oops,” you murmured, hiding your grin as you grabbed the corkscrew and stepped back. You almost painfully slow, bent down to pick up the lettuce, making sure the skirt you were wearing slid up giving Jake just the tiniest glimpse of the frilly lace of your underwear peeking out at him.

Jake shot you a look, his smirk slipping for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. 

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth but with a slight edge as his hand moved to your hip.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bradley glancing over, his smirk now firmly in place. “What’s wrong, Seresin? You’re not getting distracted, are you?”

Jake’s jaw tightened just enough for you to notice, and you bit back a laugh, turning your attention back to the wine. 

“Oh, don’t tease him, Bradshaw,” you said innocently, pouring three glasses with careful precision. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he said nothing, instead focusing intently on his salad as if it were the most important task in the world.

You smiled to yourself, setting the glasses on the counter. This was going to be even more fun than you thought.

Dinner was ready not long after, and the three of you settled at the small dining table tucked against the window. The kitchen lights cast a soft glow over the scene, the faint hum of music still playing in the background. Plates were filled with the fruits of your collective labor: roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a fresh salad that Jake had insisted was “restaurant-quality.”

You took the first bite, savoring the flavors as they hit your tongue. But instead of keeping the reaction to yourself, you let out a quiet, almost breathy moan, closing your eyes as though the simple taste of the meal was enough to send you to heaven.

When you opened your eyes, you caught both Jake and Bradley staring, their forks paused midair. Their gazes flicked to each other in a brief, wordless exchange before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, the muscles in their jaws tensing as they focused a little too intently on their food.

Suppressing a grin, you stabbed another piece of chicken with your fork, dragging it slowly through the sauce before taking another bite, this time pulling the utensil from your lips with an exaggerated slowness. You made sure the movement was subtle enough to seem natural—just enough to plant the idea without making it obvious.

The effect was immediate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake shift in his seat, adjusting his posture in a way that suggested he was trying to ignore you. Across from him, Bradley chewed with deliberate focus, his expression unreadable except for the faint tightness in his jaw.

“Everything okay?” you asked innocently, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” Jake said quickly, his tone light but clipped. He took a long drink of water, his eyes trained firmly on his plate as if it held the answers to all of life’s mysteries.

“Yeah, fine,” Bradley echoed, though his voice carried a hint of strain as he reached for the salad bowl, pretending to busy himself with serving more.

You leaned back in your chair, letting the silence settle for a moment before leaning forward again, your fingers brushing against the edge of your fork. There was a bit of sauce clinging to the tip, and instead of reaching for a napkin, you raised the utensil to your lips, your tongue darting out to catch the stray droplet.

It wasn’t dramatic—barely more than a flick—but the tension in the room crackled like static electricity. Jake’s fork clattered against his plate, and Bradley muttered something under his breath, though neither of them said anything directly.

Satisfied, you straightened in your chair and continued eating, keeping your movements deliberately slow and casual. You were playing the long game, after all, and the night was still young.

The evening stretched on, the kind of Saturday night that carried the promise of an easygoing, relaxed vibe. But the air between the three of you had changed. Every glance, every subtle movement felt charged, as if all the teasing from dinner was quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for something to tip it over the edge.

As the game time drew near, you decided to take a break, excusing yourself with a casual, “I’ll be right back. Gonna get comfy for the game.”

Jake barely looked up, his attention already focused on the TV screen as he pulled up the Longhorns' game schedule. Bradley nodded absently, taking another sip of his beer.

You made your way toward Jake’s bedroom. His closet door creaked open, and you moved quickly, your fingers brushing past the shirts hanging neatly in a row until you found it—the burnt orange jersey. You had no intention of wearing it the traditional way, though.

Next, you turned your attention to the bottom drawer of Jake’s dresser. The one that, over time, had become a place for a few of your things—your stuff from nights spent at their place, the clothes you didn’t mind leaving behind. You sifted through the familiar pile, your fingers grazing the fabric until you found what you were looking for. The lacy black thong with the satin bow on the back, a gift from Bradley on your birthday last year.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stripped out of your clothes, quickly slipping into the thong and then pulling the jersey over your head. The fabric settled comfortably against your skin, the oversized fit doing little to hide the outline of what you were really wearing underneath.

When you emerged from the bedroom, your eyes met the living room where the guys were settling in. Jake was already lounging on the couch, the TV lighting up his face as he focused on pulling up the game. Bradley was standing near the fridge, mid-drink when he saw you. His hand froze, the bottle of beer almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he took in the sight of you in nothing but the jersey.

Jake’s gaze flickered over to you, eyes widening for just a moment before he cleared his throat, his focus shifting back to the screen as though it was the most important thing in the world. But you could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened against the remote as if it were somehow anchoring him.

Bradley, on the other hand, had a harder time hiding it. His eyes followed you across the room, the surprise quickly turning into something unreadable, but not before his lips parted as though he might say something—until he caught himself. Instead, he looked down at his beer, taking a long swig to steady himself.

You smirked, casually flopping down on the couch beside Jake, making sure to let the fabric of the jersey shift just enough to give him a better view of what you were wearing—or, more accurately, not wearing underneath.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

Jake’s hand settled on your thigh, warm and heavy, sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cool air from the open window. You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his arm for good measure, leaning in close to him.

As you shifted your position, tilting your knees slightly, you felt the jersey ride up a bit higher, just enough for the lacy black thong to peek out from beneath the fabric. It was a calculated move, knowing full well that Bradley would notice.

Sure enough, when he finally settled back onto the couch on the other side of you, his gaze flickered down. His hand, perhaps on autopilot, reached out, brushing against your nearly bare skin, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Bradley’s fingers squeezed the flesh there, just a little too long, a little too possessively, before he quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

You tilted your head back into Jake’s side, letting out a soft, content sigh, and allowed yourself to sink into his warmth. The move was deliberate, a subtle taunt that made Bradley’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, and you reveled in the power you held over the two men tonight.

“Enjoying the game?” Jake asked, his voice low, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d cast. His fingers tightened on your thigh, pressing just enough to remind you of his presence.

“Mmm,” you replied, letting the sound linger in the air, your breath warm against his neck.

Jake leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered, “You know, you’re really playing a dangerous game, don’t you think?”

You looked up at him, your expression innocent, the tease in your eyes impossible to hide. “Maybe,” you replied coyly, “but I think it’s one you’ll both enjoy losing.”

The game continued, but the real action was unfolding right in front of Jake and Bradley. You could feel their eyes on you—the weight of their attention was undeniable. Jake’s hand had barely moved from your thigh, and Bradley’s fingers lingered there, giving you little indication that he had any intention of stopping. They were both wound tight, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

As the Longhorns scored a touchdown, the roar from the crowd on the TV mixed with your own excited gasp. Without thinking, you jumped to your feet, the burst of energy sending you bouncing up and down in celebration. You felt the jersey ride up as you raised your arms, the fabric lifting just enough to expose the small, barely-there thong underneath.

Your ass swayed with each bounce, the thong almost completely exposed, offering a perfect view of your bare skin to both men. The sensation of their eyes locked on you was intoxicating, but you didn’t stop. You made sure every movement was deliberate, a tease designed to keep them both hooked.

Finally, you turned around, your back to them now. The jersey hung just low enough to cover your front but did nothing to hide the thong from their view. You felt their stares burning into you, the tension between the three of you palpable in the air.

With a grin, you smirked over your shoulder, catching their eyes before saying, “Man, I love football.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably, his hand now tight around the beer bottle in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Bradley, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his reaction. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in frustration. His hand moved to the front of his jeans, adjusting himself. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, like every instinct he had was telling him to do something more.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could practically feel the moment when Bradley’s restraint finally snapped. As you smirked over your shoulder, still reveling in the heat of their gazes, you noticed the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides. His jaw was locked, his body rigid as he tried—unsuccessfully—to stay composed.

Then, without warning, he shot up from the couch. “Screw this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, filled with frustration.

Before you could even react, he was on you. One moment, you were standing in front of him, and the next, he had you hoisted effortlessly over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise, but the only response from him was a determined growl.

You kicked your legs slightly, but it was no use. Bradley had you completely at his mercy, carrying you down the hallway toward his room with a purposeful stride.

Jake called out from the living room, his voice laced with disbelief. “Bradshaw—what the hell are you doing?”

But Bradley didn’t even look back, his focus solely on you as he carried you down the hall, ignoring whatever punishment Jake might throw at him. The bet? The consequences? They didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the desire that had been building up in him, the need to finally act on everything he’d been holding back.

When he reached the door to his room, he kicked it open with one swift motion, stepping inside and slamming it shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he dropped you onto the bed, his eyes dark with intensity.

“You’ve been teasing us all night,” he growled, voice thick with desire. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You smirked, already knowing that you had pushed him too far. But that didn’t stop you from playing along, feeling the thrill of victory in the way you’d slowly unraveled him.

Bradley didn’t care about the bet anymore. All he cared about was you, and right now, that was enough.

As Bradley moved over you, his hands working the black thong off of your body with an urgency that matched the heat in his eyes, you felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door swung open with a creak, and there, standing in the doorway, was Jake. His smirk was wide, his eyes gleaming with that same cocky confidence, but there was a sharpness to it now—a flicker of something darker beneath the surface.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him. His eyes shifted between you and Bradley, taking in the sight of the thong being discarded carelessly to the side. The silence that followed was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Bradley’s fingers paused for a moment, as if sensing Jake’s presence, but his focus quickly returned to you. The momentary distraction was all Jake needed. Without breaking his smirk, Jake pushed off the doorframe and strode confidently across the room.

“Bradley, step back, baby,” Jake’s voice was low, filled with a knowing taunt. He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still on you as he placed a hand on your waist, guiding you down across his lap.

You gasped, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding through you as you found yourself positioned across his strong legs. Your heart raced, but the smirk never left your face.

“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Jake’s voice was suddenly darker, his tone shifting as he ran a finger down your spine. “You think you can tease us both, and get away with it?” He gave you a playful, but firm tap on the back of your thigh, the sting shocking you.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to your ear. “Well, it’s time somebody put you in your place.”

Bradley watched, still breathing heavily as he stood at the foot of the bed, his hands flexing with restrained hunger. The game had changed entirely. You had crossed a line, and now, both men knew it was their turn to take control.

Jake’s grip tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he positioned you more firmly across his lap. He traced a finger across the curve of your backside, his voice rough as he said, “This isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.”

The first smack comes without warning, a startled cry leaving your lips as you feel the sting of Jake’s hand.

“That’s one. You’ve got nine more. Think you can handle it?”

You nodd, but Jake just makes a tsk tsk tsk noise with his mouth before delivering another smack to the same spot.

“Use your words. We’re back to one. I can do this all night.”

“Yes. Yes, I can handle it.”

You hear Jake let out a low chuckle before saying, “Damn right you can, baby.”

The final smack echoed through the room, sharper than the rest, and you couldn't suppress the gasp that left your lips. A wave of heat rushed through you, a mix of sting and longing building in your body. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the tension of the moment overwhelming.

Jake’s hand lingered, resting gently on your sore skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the burn of the smacks. For a brief moment, there was silence. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the weight of his touch seemed to calm you, despite the ache.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of command. His hand moved slowly, rubbing circles into your tender skin, soothing the burn as he spoke. "You did so well for me."

You could hear the pride in his voice, and feel the shift in his demeanor as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. It was a small, almost gentle gesture, but it spoke volumes in the context of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers traced along your back now, his touch lighter, almost tender. "I know you can take it," he continued, his tone warm. "You’ve been so good for us tonight."

The praise was enough to stir something inside you—something that made the lingering sting worth it. He could still dominate you, but in this moment, you were his, and he took care of you in a way that felt like both power and care.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen next, sweetheart,” Jake says. “Bradley here is going to lay on his bed, and you’re going to ride him, reverse cowgirl so he can watch that pretty ass bounce as your ride him. And so I can watch your perfect tits bounce.” You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together at his words. “And I’m going to stand at the end of the bed and I want your eyes on me the whole time. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” Jake says before helping you up off his lap.

The moment you lift yourself off Jake’s lap, there’s a quiet shift in the room. The tension in the room grows as you crawl up the bed, hovering over Bradley, who’s now lying back on the bed, his eyes dark with hunger but also something else–softness, a trace of tenderness mixed with the primal need.

As you settle above him, the weight of your body supported by your hands on either side of his chest, Bradley’s hands reach up to pull you down. He doesn’t waste a second, his lips finding yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. The kiss is almost electric, his lips hungry, but gentle enough to make you melt against him. The urgency fades slightly, and you find yourself losing a bit of control as you sink into the warmth of his embrace. His hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you close as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It's just the two of you, your bodies pressing together, the soft sound of your breathing filling the space between you. You feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and warm, grounding you in this moment. It’s different with Bradley—there’s a tenderness there, something that contrasts with the more commanding side Jake showed earlier.

When you pull away, your lips still tingling, you can see the quiet satisfaction in Bradley’s eyes. His hands slip down your sides, tracing the outline of your body as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire, but there’s a softness to it, a reverence that makes your chest tighten.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time it’s slower, more deliberate, and you can feel the shift between you—less about the tease, less about the game, and more about the connection.

You shift, moving so that your back is now towards Bradley, and your gaze finds Jake’s. The electricity between you three is palpable, the air thick with the kind of unspoken connection that runs deep. You can feel Bradley’s hands on your waist, steadying you, but it’s Jake’s eyes that hold your attention now—dark, intent, but filled with something else. There’s a depth in his gaze, a silent understanding, a promise that whatever happens next, it’s about the three of you as one.

You reach down, tugging the burnt orange jersey off, letting it fall to the floor in a fluid motion, leaving yourself exposed before them. The vulnerability stirs something within you—both exhilarating and grounding at once. With each passing second, the trust between you grows stronger, the knowledge that you're not just being seen, but truly understood, is almost overwhelming.

You pause, locking eyes with Jake, and the tension rises again. His presence is commanding, but it's the gentle weight of his gaze that gives you the confidence to continue. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, the movement calculated and deliberate, not just for them, but for yourself. 

Bradley’s hands guide you, steadying you as you move closer to him. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the stretch of Bradley as you sink further and further onto him.

“Uh uh. Eyes on me, baby.” Jake reminds you.

You nod and open your eyes, yours immediately find Jake’s green ones. They’re darker than normal, laced with desire and need.

“You’re perfect,” Bradley whispers, his voice thick with emotion. You can feel the weight of his words, not just in his tone, but in how his hands trace over your skin, grounding you in this moment.

You stay locked on Jake’s gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding you in the moment. The air between you two feels thick, like a promise that’s been quietly building, waiting to be fulfilled. His face softens, but there’s a quiet strength in it that makes your heart race. 

Bradley’s hands move to your waist, his touch steady and sure. He guides you gently, helping you find your rhythm as your body begins to move, slow and deliberate. His touch is a contrast to Jake’s silent command—Bradley’s touch is soft, like a grounding force, holding you steady.

You feel the heat rising, your chest tightening as the tension builds. But through it all, Jake’s eyes never leave yours. There’s something magnetic about the way he watches, as though he’s seeing you—every part of you—in a way that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe, all at once. His jaw tightens as he shifts, the intensity in his gaze never faltering.

With every small movement, every shift of your body, you feel the pressure building. Your breaths come quicker, your heart racing as Bradley’s hands guide you.

“S-shit,” you hear Bradley mutter from beneath you, causing you to clench around him.

Bradley’s hands move to your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. His touch is tender, guiding you closer, helping you reach a place of intensity that feels almost overwhelming.

And then, it comes—like a wave crashing over you. You can feel the pressure building, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Bradley’s hands on your skin, his body beneath you, and Jake’s steady gaze pulling you deeper. Every part of you is alive, connected, and entwined in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Your breath catches as the moment hits, your body trembling as you reach the peak. Your eyes never leave Jake’s, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the bond between the three of you—the love, the trust, the unspoken understanding that this is where you’re meant to be. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.” Bradley grunts as you feel ropes of his seed release into you.

You collapse on the bed against Bradley, your body spent and trembling, Jake’s smile softens, a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Bradley whispers, pulling you into him, his hands still on your back as he kisses the top of your head. His voice is filled with a tenderness.

“You’re perfect,” Jake adds softly, his voice low and comforting.

Bradley shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he looks over at Jake. There’s a quiet moment between them, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. With a soft chuckle, Bradley pushes himself up from the bed, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer before he speaks.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Jake, you wanna take care of her while I’m gone?” he asks, the affection in his voice evident.

Jake’s response is immediate, his eyes softening as he watches you. “Of course,” he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

As Bradley moves to the bathroom, Jake crawls onto the bed beside you, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His presence is a steady, comforting weight as he shifts closer, opening his arms for you. You don’t hesitate, scooting over to him, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

You curl into him, your body instinctively leaning into his warmth as your head rests against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is a calming rhythm beneath your ear, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, the tension of the last few minutes slowly ebbing away.

Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer, his hand gently stroking your hair as he settles against the pillows. His touch is soothing, almost protective, and it fills you with a sense of security that you can’t quite put into words.

“You did so well,” Jake murmurs, his voice soft and tender. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You smile against his chest, the words washing over you like a balm. You can feel the warmth of his body, the affection in every movement, and it’s all you need right now. The bond between the three of you feels unspoken but undeniable, and in this moment, everything feels right.

As you settle more comfortably against Jake, his arms holding you close, you allow yourself to fully relax, your body melting into his embrace. The soft sound of Bradley’s footsteps in the bathroom fades into the background as you lose yourself in the warmth of Jake’s care.

The world outside this room doesn’t matter right now. There’s only the three of you, your trust, and the quiet love that lingers in the space between. And for the moment, that’s all you need.

As the warmth of Jake’s embrace settles around you, the exhaustion from the long day and the intensity of everything that’s happened begin to catch up with you. Your body feels heavy, your mind slowly unwinding as the last threads of wakefulness start to slip away. You’re so close to falling asleep, the soothing rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat lulling you deeper into comfort.

But then, there’s a soft rustle of movement. You feel the bed shift slightly, and soon, Bradley is back. He’s holding a warm washcloth, the scent of soap and something faintly floral filling the air as he gently presses it against your skin. The touch is tender, careful, as he begins to clean you up, his fingers moving gently over you.

“Let me know if I’m being too rough,” Bradley murmurs softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet room, his gaze focused on his task. There’s no rush in his movements, only a quiet affection, as he takes care of you.

Once he finishes, he places the cloth aside, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulls back. You feel the bed dip as he moves around, and then, in the next moment, he’s crawling onto the bed beside you. His arms slip around your waist from behind, pulling you into him, and you easily melt back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against your back.

You’re trapped now, but it doesn’t feel like a prison. Bradley’s strong chest presses against your back, his arms holding you securely while Jake, still on the other side of you, continues to hold you close. The two of them surround you, their presence comforting, and you can’t help but feel safe in their arms.

“Comfy?” Bradley murmurs against your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep any other way.”

The steady sound of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, and the quiet intimacy of the moment all wash over you. You can feel yourself drifting, your body sinking into the bed, the pull of sleep becoming harder to resist.

Just as your mind starts to fade, you hear Jake’s voice, light and teasing, cutting through the soft lull of the room.

“So, Bradshaw,” Jake begins, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “Not even twenty-four hours, huh?”

Bradley chuckles softly behind you, his fingers idly tracing circles on your waist as he gives a quiet, amused grunt. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Jake snorts, a low, amused laugh slipping from his lips. “Right, but it’s nice to know you’re still a little bit predictable.”

You can hear the affection in Jake’s voice, his teasing not mean-spirited but filled with that familiar bond that the three of you share. As the sound of their laughter and gentle banter continues, the exhaustion pulls you under, and you finally surrender to sleep, the two men’s arms around you the last thing on your mind as you drift away.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw.

summary: It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

a/n: ignore that this gif is from the offer, ok? It fits the vibe.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: masturbation (m), facesitting, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, bradley's a vocal lover, praise kink.

word count: 3k

taglist: @nouis-bum @floydsmuse @mamachasesmayhem @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @fall-winter-heart97 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue

Two more days.

Two more days until Bradley could see your face in person again. Two more days until he could be home and in his own space. 

Bradley let out a heavy, tired sigh, reaching his hand under his pillow. He pulled out the picture of you that he’d brought with him on deployment, tracing over your image with his fingers gently. The picture’s edges were becoming curled, worn from being tucked into flight helmets and under pillows, clutched in sweating, sometimes shaking palms, lips pressed to it in a tender kiss on occasion. He admired the photo, he’d taken it on a date you went on before he left. 

His dad’s well-loved Polaroid camera, left to him as a kid, in hand, he’d taken you to Mission Beach for the day, wanting to have the full tourist experience with you before he got shipped to the middle of the Pacific again. He found a store in Coronado that sold film for vintage cameras, building up a small stockpile for himself. He’d given you a full photoshoot that day — pictures snapped at every opportunity. Watching planes fly over head, playing games in the arcade, rides on the wooden rollercoaster, rock climbing, lunch dates, mini golf, and rock climbing. He’d snapped a couple of you in your sundress, smiling sweetly at him for the camera, your hair flowing in the warm Pacific breeze. 

This photo, however, was the one of you laughing on the beach, your baby blue two-piece swimsuit on, the high-waisted bottoms hugging your curves, the coordinating blue top cupping your breasts in a way that pushed them upever so slightly. He could practically hear your laugh whenever he looked at it, and it made his heartache that little bit more each time. 

“Fuck," he muttered to himself, sighing again as he looked around the bunk. 

Jake was on deck for the night, leaving Bradley with the shared space all to himself for at least a couple of hours. He laid back on his bed, tugging his grey sweatpants down off his hips. He spat into his free hand, using it to stroke his cock in a slow, steady pace, your photograph in his other hand, eyes fixed on your figure as he masturbated. 

Fuck, he missed you. 

He shut his eyes, picturing you as he continued to stroke himself, seeing the facial expression you made whenever you rode him, eyes shut with ecstasy, tits bouncing up and down, hips moving, hands pressed to his chest. The mental image alone was almost enough to drive him over the brink. He let out a deep grunt as he finished, your name escaping him in a soft moan. 

Two days couldn’t come soon enough. 

When he finally got home, Bradley was exhausted. The time difference had caused him more jet lag than it usually did, not that he was sleeping well without you to begin with. He never did. He’d landed earlier than anticipated, coming home a day before he was expected. He unlaced his standard issue boots, kicking them off at the door before heading directly to the laundry room. Stripping clean from his uniform, he tossed it into the washing machine, desperate for a shower and fresh, comfortable clothes.

With a dry towel wrapped around his waist, he bounded up the wooden stairs to the main bathroom. He dropped the towel as he turned the shower on, sighing happily as he stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over him for a minute, enjoying one of the first comforts of being home for the first time in six months. 

Stepping out of the tower, he quickly dried himself off and wrapped his towel back around his waist before heading down the hall to the bedroom. Everything was neatly pulled together — freshly laundered sheets on the bed that still smelled like your favourite detergent, his clothes neatly put away for him, fresh flowers sat in a vase on your nightstand, and a new book sat on his, with a note card placed on top. 

B, I saw this the other day at that cute little bookstore on Orange Ave. It made me think of you. I thought you’d like to read it now that you’ll have a little down time. - Love, your girl. Xo

Bradley felt his heart swell as he read your neatly printed note. He picked the book up, scanning the cover with a soft smile before setting it back down. A true crime book about a case in a podcast he’d mentioned in one of his emails home — it was perfect. God, you were perfect.

He tugged a clean white t-shirt over his head before reaching into his dresser for clean boxer briefs and a pair of well-loved denim shorts that were beginning to fray around the cuffs from being worn so frequently. Bradley looked out the bedroom window at the landscape, happy to finally be home. He’d missed all the little things while he was gone — the palm trees, the smell of those little laundry scent beads you swore by, your coordinating body wash, shampoo and conditioner that you insisted on buying for him when you’d learned he’d been coasting through life for 37 years with a 3-in-1 bottle — almost as much as he’d missed you. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got to work crafting himself the sandwich to top all sandwiches. He was starving, and after months of bland, unexciting meals on board an aircraft carrier, all he wanted was comfort food. With his turkey club piled high and a glass bottle of Coke from Mexico in hand, he settled into his favourite chair and began to enjoy himself until you came home from work.

When you did come home, you heard the faint sound of voices coming from the back of the house. You dropped your bag at the front door, running through the house so quickly, you’d forgotten to take your shoes off. In the living room sat Bradley, in his favourite, well-loved chair, dozing as sports highlights played in the background, a plate with remnants of a sandwich and a half-finished bottle of Coke sat on the table beside him. 

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his forehead as you stroked his curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He was finally home.

Bradley’s eyes fluttered open, a smile forming on his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his nose pressed to your neck as you settled into his lap. 

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, peppering you with kisses.

“Missed you more, B,” you echoed as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“God, I missed you so much, honey. This might have been the hardest trip away from you yet.” 

Bradley’s hands rested firmly on your hips as his lips wandered down your neck to your collarbone. He mumbled against your skin, shoving the strap of your tank top down off of your shoulder. His teeth grazed at your exposed, sun kissed skin, causing you to let out a gasp. 

“Bradley!” you squealed, laughing as his deep brown eyes looked at you, taking in the sight of your face again. 

“Mhmm, I missed that laugh of yours,” he hummed, his large hands moving to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed these tits of yours too.”

“I bet you have, were Jake’s not doing it for you?” you teased.

Bradley scoffed as he pulled your tank top off over your head, tossing it off to somewhere in the void across the room. With one hand snaked around your back, he unfastened your bra in one fluid motion, discarding it to the floor. He grinned at you before pressing his mouth back to your collarbone, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples as they pebbled at his touch.

“No, one’s could do it for me like yours do, honey, you know that. Look at you. So pretty for me. My girl’s always looking pretty, ain’t she?” he purred between kisses to your breasts. 

“Bradley,” you laughed, shaking your head, “This is what you want now that you’re finally home?”

“I’ve been wantin’ this since about two hours after I left, six months without you has been torture. I contemplated quitting when I came home. I thought about faking an injury so they’d discharge me. I tried thinking up a thousand ways to come home early — all of them bad.” He nodded, as he looked up at you, hands still cupping your tits. 

“Mhmm, you thought about quitting for me? That’s not the Bradley Bradshaw I know.”

“I swear, honey, this time…this time was harder than usual.”

“Well, I’m all yours now,” you nodded, your hand stroking his cheek. 

Bradley hummed to himself, tilting his head to the side as he thought for a minute. He looked at you, watching as you bit your lower lip. The sight of you alone after so much time apart was enough to make him hard, but now it was becoming unbearable. He needed you. He craved you. 

“Upstairs, now,” he urged, nodding his head as you got off his lap.

You grinned to yourself as you headed up the stairs, walking just slowly enough to your bedroom so Bradley could catch the way your hips swayed with every step, your taut ass bouncing with each movement. It was enough to drive any man insane, but Bradley could barely contain himself. 

Fuck, he missed you.

He pushed you on to the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with a wide grin plastered to his face. You placed a hand on his chest, steadying him as your smile faltered for a second. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling, nodding slowly as Bradley sat back on his knees for a minute. 

“Go easy on me, big guy, it’s been a long six months, I’m out of practice,” you teased, grinning at him.

“Shoot, honey, I thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t want me to-never mind, I’ll go easy on ya. I always do, don’t I?”

“Roo, you do the exact opposite of going easy.” You grinned, rolling your eyes at Bradley. 

Bradley repositioned himself over your body, smirking as he took in the sight of you again. His lips began trailing down your abdomen your shorts, sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he popped the button on your shorts open, sitting up as he pulled them off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your lace trimmed underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth found your core. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed for the last six months. 

“Just as pretty as I remember it, fuck.”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, pressing varying degrees of pressure into you, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him for the last six months. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you. He sat himself up fully, smirking at you.

“Get up, pretty girl, I have an idea.”

You let out a whine in protest, sitting up on the bed as Bradley now laid down on his back. Shooting him a look, you raised your palms in protest, shaking your head at him.

“Bradley, you seriously stopped so I would give it to you instead?”

“What? No,” Bradley laughed, shaking his head as he gestured to his face. “Take a seat.”

“You want me to…?”

Bradley lifted his head up off the pillow, giving you a lustful stare, his eyebrows knitting together as he nodded his head. “Did I stutter? Take. A. Seat.”

You rolled your eyes, giving your head a shake as you slipped out of your underwear, dropping them to the floor. Climbing back on to the bed, you hovered yourself above Bradley’s mouth, looking down at him as you chewed on your lip. He shook his head, his mustache tickling at your inner thigh as he kissed up your leg. In one swift motion, he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you down until his lips were directly under your dripping core, smirking as he murmured against your skin again. 

“That’s my girl. I’ve missed this pussy so fuckin’ much.” He grunts, nodding his head slightly as he buries his tongue into you, nose pressed to your clit. 

“Bradley!” you whimper, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached down, fingers tugging on his dark curls.

Bradley’s tongue worked into you at a breakneck speed, so fast that you wondered how he was able to breathe. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, blunt fingernails digging into your soft skin as he held you in place. His mouth worked on you relentlessly, refusing to let up until he had you a screaming, crying, pretty little mess, just how he (and you) liked it. 

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you babbled, unable to say anything other than his name as his tongue fucked into you. 

He grunted into your cunt again, mumbling words of praise into your skin. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, honey, so fuckin’ sweet.” He growled before delving his tongue into you again.

Your thighs began to shudder and shake, spasming as you felt your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You shut your eyes, tears stinging as Bradley continued, not breaking his rhythm once as you came, his tongue quickly lapping at your arousal hungrily. He moved his mouth up to your clit, kissing at it with a couple of powerful sucks before pulling his mouth away. He let go of your thighs, a couple of darker marks forming on your skin from where he got carried away, gripping you a little too tightly. You got up, sitting on the bed, panting as you tried to find your mental clarity again. 

Bradley rolled onto his side and surveyed your thigh, pressing gentle kisses to the darkened marks on your skin in apology. Once you found your words again, his big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Roo,” you nodded, placing a hand on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed ya too, honey. Ain’t done with ya yet though.”

With that, Bradley quickly shimmied out of his denim shorts and boxers, kicking them off clumsily. He crawled across the bed, finding the spot between your thighs. His hands smoothed over your legs, lifting them up and hoisting them up onto his shoulders. You curved your knees around him as he aligned his hardened cock with your entrance, easing into you with a soft groan. 

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. You missed this cock, didn’t you? Missed me fillin’ ya up, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, pausing as he felt your walls stretching around him. 

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, whining as he stretched you. 

God, he was right. You did miss him. You missed him more than you wanted to let on, you missed his presence, his voice, the silly things he’d do that pissed you off, you missed the way he made love to you, passionate and caring, full of praise, making it his life’s mission to make you feel good. He took it as seriously as his work - calculated movements, using the same precision and laser-focus he did in the air.

Your eyelids fluttered shut again as you felt him pull out of you, pushing himself back into you again with a powerful thrust of his hips. Bradley tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, refusing to move again. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, keep those pretty eyes on me. Want you lookin’ at me when I fuck you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly as he pounded into your entrance again, making your head spin as your walls clenched around him. He began thrusting into you, starting slowly as he found his rhythm again, savouring every movement, every inch of you that he’d missed over the last six months. Bradley gently pressed his palm into your pubic bone as he thrusted harder, faster into you, the sensation heightening with the added pressure he was giving. You could tell by the knot turning in your stomach that it wasn’t going to be long before you were coming for him again, and if Bradley had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time you did tonight. 

“Feelin’ so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. That’s my girl. That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, his confident demeanor melting away, leaving Bradley a pussy drunk, babbling mess, unable to say anything other than your praises, repeating your name over and over as if it was a spoken prayer.

“‘M not gonna last, honey,” Bradley shook his head as he moaned breathlessly.

Fuck.

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips slowed, stilling as he came inside of you. Bradley let out the deepest grunt you’d ever heard — the past six months of missing you drawing out of him along with it. Ducking his head down as he tried to catch his breath, his curls slicked and stuck to his forehead with sweat, he panted heavily, gently letting your legs go as you dropped them back down to the bed. He looked up at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your features as he nodded breathlessly.

“Fuck, I missed you, honey. I missed this, and you, and home.”

“Welcome home, Rooster. Welcome home.”

[promisingyounglady]

stranger. | BB x Reader

SYNOPSIS: drunk hookup, no names exchanged, bradley is a pussy eating king.

PAIRING: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

You pant, breathing heavily

“W-What’s your name again?”

A head pops up from in between your legs, giving you a sight that makes you delirious from the sheer sexiness of it all.

He’s golden, the warm light from the bedside table lamp, casting a glow on his pink cheeks. Dog tags hang from his collar bones.

He’s got pretty eyes, a strong nose and a shit-eating grin covered by a mustache that’s dripping in your slick.

You hadn’t even had time to even exchange names, only knowing that you were mutual friends of Jake who met at tonight’s party. One too many shots later and you’re here getting eaten out by a fighter pilot you don’t even know the name of.

He comes forward, leaning into your breath as he mutters softly. “Bradley. Bradshaw.”

You moan, feeling how his hands slide up your body as he utters his name, embarrassingly squirming under his touch.

“Say it back” He requests, deep brown eyes gazing into yours.

You oblige, moaning his name in a breathless whisper.

“Bradley”

He smiles, kissing you to shut you up before he goes down back in between your legs, pecks littered against the flesh of your inner thighs.

“Say my name and then ask me to eat you out”

You almost can’t believe your ears. You look down, gripping the sheets as you stare the smug bastard down.

“Nicely” he adds, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit as he smirks.

You throw your head back, eyes shutting as you mumble embarrassingly. “Eat me bradley”

His hands roam to your tits, giving them a squeeze

“Louder” he replies, muffled as he’s concentrated in stuffing his face in your vagina, choosing to give small unsatisfying licks until you say it properly.

You cry out, chest rising. “Eat me out, Bradley” you grit, moaning when he finally swipes his nose along your pussy, giving you what you want.

“I don’t like you.” you huff, glaring at the head of hair you’re running your hands through.

You feel him smile against your mound, coming up to snarkily change the topic.

“What’s your name?”

[topgun-imagines]

Say My Name

Requested: no

Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.

His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.

The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.

“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.

Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.

Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.

Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.

Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.

Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.

The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.

The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.

You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.

“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.

You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.

Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.

Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.

As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.

The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.

Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.

Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.

“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.

The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”

The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.

After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.

You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.

His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.

For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.

The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.

With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.

For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.

Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.

Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.

“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.

One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.

You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.

“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.

Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.

Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.

This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.

Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.

Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.

In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

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[peachesandcreames]

Decisions, Decisions 🥵🔥

[writing-until-i-drop]

First Time | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader | wc: 2,226

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! Oral (fem receiving), unprotect p in v (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, mentions of rough oral (male receiving), lmk if I missed anything

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

You picked at your nail beds, anxiously waiting for the familiar blue Bronco to pull into the parking lot. You had been on a blind date from hell, arranged by one of your well-meaning co-workers. The guy had been late, flirted with the waitress, had ordered for you, and worst of all, had gotten your name wrong twice. Well, maybe that wasn’t the worst part but after the rest of the night, it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

You had excused yourself to the bathroom once the bill came out and called Bradley, begging him to come get you. Now, you were behind the restaurant, hoping your date didn’t come looking for you. 

“Thank God,” You sighed, rushing to the Bronco. Bradley scolded you for not waiting until he was in park but his whining stopped when you launched yourself across the bench seat at him. He gathered you in his arms without hesitation. 

“I've got you, honey,” Bradley whispered into your hair. You thought you felt him press a kiss to your temple but the feeling was so fleeting you couldn't be sure.

“I'm never going on a blind date ever again,” You whined. Bradley chuckled, rubbing your back. He hadn't been too keen on you going out with a stranger in the first place, making his displeasure known but also acknowledging that you were a grown woman who could do as you pleased. It annoyed a part of you that he didn't try harder to stop you. 

“You know I hate to see you sad, honey. What can I do to make tonight better?” Fuck me? Your first thought was not a viable response and you knew it. You and Bradley were destined to be really good friends, the type of friends others looked at and assumed there was something more. You would and had denied it in the past but secretly…secretly you were in love with your best friend. 

How could you not be? He was handsome, kind, attentive, and his mustache? You had cried the time Jake and Javy had convinced him to shave it and were inconsolable until it grew back a few months later. 

“Can we have a movie night at your place? And get pizza?” 

“Food wasn't good?” Bradley reached around you, buckling the middle seat belt over your lap. He normally insisted that you sit in the passenger seat, since it had the cross-body seat belt, going on and on about your safety.

But tonight, he didn't mention it, he also didn't mention what he was thinking when he draped his arm over your shoulders after switching into gear. Not willing to look a gifted horse in the mouth, you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“He ordered for me without even asking and it was awful, Lee.” His fingers, which had been tracing patterns on the exposed skin of your arm, froze when you used the nickname.

Normally you just called him by his first name and occasionally his callsign. The one time you had addressed him by rank and he fell down Mav’s front porch steps, which had given you enough reason to never do that again. Even if Bradley had promised that the two incidents were unrelated. 

“I'm sorry, honey.” 

“No you're not,” You rolled your eyes. “You didn't even want me to go on this date in the first place.” Bradley sighed. 

“Was I happy that you were meeting a strange man? No. But I also would never wish for you to have a bad night, so, yes, honey. I'm sorry.”

“God, I wish I could clone you,” You mumbled softly. 

“What was that, honey?” 

“Nothing.” 

When you got back to Bradley’s place the first order of business was getting out of your dress and heels. 

“I’ll order the pizza,” Bradley said, offering you a pair of sweats and one of his tee shirts.

“I thought we went over how ordering for a woman is a bad thing,” You teased and Bradley rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well unlike that douchebag, I know exactly what you like.” This time, it was impossible to miss the kiss on the temple that turned your cheeks pink. “There’s makeup remover in the bathroom.” 

“Pick a movie, I’ll be down in a minute,” You squeezed his forearm, moving past him into the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet was your brand of makeup remover and it made your stomach twist with butterflies, of course Bradley had your brand, he must have seen it when he visited your apartment. But why was it in his medicine cabinet and not stored away? It was like he was expecting you to be there, looking through his cabinets for it.

Once changed, you went downstairs. Bradley was sprawled out on his sofa, sipping on a beer, your favorite drink was waiting for you on the coffee table. You paused at the base of the stairs, taking in the sight before you. It was everything you wanted but didn’t think you could have. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, honey?” Bradley held out a hand, beckoning your forwards. You moved without thinking, letting him pull you on the couch beside him.

“Just thinking,” You answered noncommittally. Rooster chuckled, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“What are you thinking?”  Did you take a chance? Did you run this risk of ruining the relationship that meant the most to you?

“Nothing,” You muttered, moving out from his immediate grasp. Bradley didn’t let you get far though, pulling you back to his side. “Bradley.” 

“Does this have something to do with you wanting to clone me?” So he had heard that, you groaned, which was answer enough for him. “What about me isn’t enough that you want two of me?” 

“That you don’t want to sleep with me,” The answer tumbled out before you could stop it. You went to pull away again but Bradley stopped you, moving you onto his lap, reminding you just how strong he was. “Lee, I-” 

“You don’t need a clone to have that,” Bradley’s eyes were molten, staring into yours with an intensity that you had never experienced before. His grip on your hips tightened when you didn’t say anything, “I’ve been crazy about you for a long time. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

You closed the gap, pressing your lips against his in a soft kiss. Bradley didn’t waste time, kissing you back with a desperate need, one hand slipping beneath your shirt, pressing against your back gently.

You arched into him, letting him deepen the kiss. Kissing Bradley was like having a roman candle explode inside your chest. Explosions and excitement shooting through you as he buried his other hand in your hair.

You tugged at his hair, relishing the loud moan he gave. Your hips ground down, feeling exactly why they called him Rooster. Bradley pulled back, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pulling moans and whines from you.

“Still think you need a clone to get the job done?” He nipped at your pulse, “All you have to do is ask, I’ll give you anything you want.” You tugged at his shirt, Bradley chuckled. “Talk to me, honey.” 

“I want you to fuck me, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” You saw the moment when Bradley’s brain stopped working. He blinked a few times, swollen lips parting in surprise. “Then I want you to tell me how you know what makeup remover I use.”  

“Can you say that again for me, baby?” You giggled, pulling off your shirt.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, I want you to fuck me.” Bradley groaned, pulling you in for another kiss. This time it was harsh, all teeth and tongues, noses knocking against each other. He shifted you onto your back, settling between your legs. “Lee,” You moaned as he palmed your breasts roughly.

“Love it when you call me that,” Bradley pulled at your sweats and you lifted your hips to help. You giggled as they went flying across the room, “No one else calls me that.” 

“Good,” You moaned, hands threading into his hair as he kissed down your chest.

“How attached are you to your bra?” He asked, tugging at the flimsy straps.

“The bra’s expensive,” You undid the clasp yourself, tossing it towards your sweats. “Panties aren’t.” The sound of ripping fabric filled the room but your protests were non-existent as he began lavishing your breasts with attention, licking, sucking, and biting both of them until you were a squirming mess.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” He kissed his way down your stomach. “And all mine. All fucking mine.”

“Lee,” You cried out when he licked you without hesitation. Bradley ate your pussy like a dying man, his mustache brushing against your sensitive clit. “If you ever,” You grunted as he slid a thick finger into you. “Shave your mustache again, I’ll key your Bronco.”

Bradley’s response was to double his efforts, adding a second finger, scissoring them to open you up for him. You felt your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach tightening painfully so.

“Come for me, baby.” He sucked your clit hard, the coil snapping as the orgasm washed over you. 

“Lee,” You moaned, vision going fuzzy. Your legs tightened around his head but Bradley didn’t slow down, elongating your orgasm until another one caught you off guard. 

“All fucking mine, baby.” Bradley gave you one last lick then kissed you, giving you a taste for yourself that had you moaning into his mouth. You barely heard the loud knock at the door, Bradley grabbed a blanket and covered you. “Stay covered, I don’t share.” 

“Noted,” You sighed, exhausted from two back-to-back orgasms.

Bradley quickly paid the man and abandoned the pizza in the kitchen, he scooped you into his arms. “What are you doing?” 

“Following orders,” Bradley grunted, squeezing your ass. He kicked his bedroom door shut behind you, placing you on the bed. “You think you’re ready for me, baby?” 

“If you don’t fuck me, Lee, I’m calling Hangman.” Bradley growled, pulling off his sweats and boxers in one go. You gulped, he was huge. 

“What did I just say about sharing?” 

“You might have to remind me,” Bradley was on you in an instant, kissing you hard until you were dying for air. “Bradley,” You scratched his back.

“What don’t I do, baby?” 

“Fuck me, apparently,” He bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pulling a load moan from you.

“Keep it up with, baby, one of these days I’ll fuck your mouth until you pass out.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the thought of it, “Now, who’s the only one who gets to touch you like this.” 

“You,” You pulled him in for a kiss. “Now, please, please, please, fuck me, Lee.” 

“Condom?” You shook your head,

“Clean and on birth control. You?” 

“I’m clean,” You felt him notch himself at your entrance. “Ready?” You shifted your hips upwards, urging him to hurry up. “Words, baby.”

“‘Ready.” He pushed forward, his thick cock stretching you out until you were gasping and whining his name with every inch he gave you.

“Halfway there, baby.” Halfway? You groaned, digging your fingers into the sheets.

“Fuck, Lee, you’re huge,” Bradley chuckled, distracting you from the pain by playing with your nipples. He stilled when he bottomed out, giving you time to adjust. You felt so full of him and of pleasure, you knew it would only get better once he started to move.

“How do you want this to go, honey? You’re in control here,” You settled your hands on his broad shoulders, squeezing his strong muscles.

“Ruin me, Lee. We can do it slow and sweet after dinner,” He gave you a peck on the lips.

“Whatever you want.” He pulled back then snapped his hips forward, hitting a spot that had you crying out. He pace was relentless and exactly what you wanted, Bradley fucked you into the bed like a man possessed. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezing my cock like a good girl,” You squeezed around him. “You like that, huh? You like being my good girl? Words, baby.”

“Yes, shit,” You scratched your nails down his back. “I’m your good girl, just don’t stop.” 

“Give me one more, baby,” His calloused fingers set a quick pace, rubbing your abused clit until you were screaming. “That’s it, come for me.” Your third orgasm hit you harder than the two before it, incoherent babbles spilling from your lips. “Think you can give me another?”

“No, no, no,” You whined but when he pulled his hand back you forced it back down. Bradley chuckled, happily working you up again.

“We’re going to have to work on your communication skills, baby,” You kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip. Bradley’s thrusts became erratic, he was close. “Come on my cock while I fill you up, baby.” That was all it took, you came and Bradley followed right behind you, spilling inside of you. 

“I think,” You panted as Bradley all but collapsed on top of you, “I think you broke me.” He chuckled, kissing your face all over as he shifted off of you, pulling you both onto your sides.

“How does a bath sound?” 

“Pizza first.” His stomach rumbled in agreement,

“Whatever you want, baby.”

a/n: this fic got away with me, it was supposed to stop when the pizza got there

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[vivwritesfics]

Her Seat

Bradley's girl had her Seat. It was his lap.

Warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum eating, unprotected sex, she is Bradley's pillow princess, marking

The movie was playing, but neither of them were paying much attention. Bradley's attention was focused on her. He held her, his large hands holding her ass as he stared at her.

Sat on his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and played with the short hairs at the back of his neck.

The movie, something front the 90's, was long forgotten as he touched her. His hands were warm against her ass and he slipped his hands beneath her gym shorts.

A smile played on his lips, his moustache twitching up ever so slightly.

She looked so perfect sitting on him, her smaller frame on his larger one. They were chest to and Bradley leaned forward to kiss her, his large hands squeezing the flesh of her ass.

She knew why he was called Rooster, could feel why he was called Rooster pressed against her gym shorts. She moved against it and he gripped her tighter, stilling her.

Bradley was in charge and she loved it.

He pulled down her gym shorts and dropped them onto the floor, leaving her in her shirt, one of Bradley's, and her underwear. His hands returned to her ass, fingers slipping between the waistband of her panties.

"No bra?" He asked as she pressed her forehead to his.

She shook her head. "No bra," he confirmed, pulling her chest away from his own. He could see her nipples now, but it was a wonder he didn't feel them before.

"I love you," he said, capturing her lips with his own before she could answer. His hands travelled up under her shirt, calloused fingers rough against her back.

She arched her back towards him and let out a whine. Anything Bradley did was enough to get her whining for him. Just his skin against her own was enough.

Bradley was like nobody she had ever been with before. When it came to sex, she was his priority. He didn't care how long it took, he'd have her cumming on his face and fingers before he fucked her, his cock splitting her open.

He had barely touched her and she was already a mess for him, but she always was. "Can I?" He whispered against her lips, raising her shirt slightly. She nodded and lifted her arms, allowing him to pull her shirt off completely. Bradley dropped it onto the floor beside her shirts.

He kissed the top of her breasts while she ran her hands through his hair, whining and mewling. Even that was almost enough to push her over the edge, and she hadn't him him yet.

When she felt him again, pressed against her thigh, she wiggled her hips against him. This time, Bradley let her. He kissed down the flesh of her right tit until his lips met her nipple. Instantly, he brought it into his mouth. He let our a cry, throwing her head back. Bradley kept a hold of her, keeping her in his lap.

Her hips moved feverishly against him and Bradley pulled away from her breasts. His eyes locked onto hers as she pulled one hand from behind her back and travelled down to her cunt.

"You're soaked," he whispered, feeling her through her panties. She bucked her hips against his large hand and Bradley smirked.

Slowly, he peeled her panties away from her body and added them to the ever growing pile of clothes. When her cunt hit the cold hair she was desperately searching for him, begging him for some sort of friction.

"I've got you, pretty girl," he said as he brought his fingers back to her folds. He ran his fingers through them, feeling just how wet she was. When his fingers bumped against her clit, she let out an animalistic, inhuman noise.

Bradley eased his fingers into her. Every time they had sex, he had to ease himself into her. His fingers were so thick and so large, he did it one at a time, using her wetness as a lubricant. He pumped his finger in and out of her slowly, languidly, taking his sweet time with her.

Two fingers were already a stretch. But Bradley knew he needed one more to properly stretch her out. "So good f' me," he whispered as she rode his fingers, her forehead against his shoulder.

"Ready for one more, pretty girl?" He asked and she nodded. But Bradley wasn't going to do anything, not until she verbalised what she wanted.

When she choked out a 'yes', he eased a third finger into her. She cried out, stilling her hips and gripping his shoulders. He whispered sweetly in her ear, helping her to ease herself down. "So good," he said and kissed her head sweetly.

Every movement with three of his thick fingers inside of her had her shuddering. Bradley hit all the right spots inside of her, until she was shaking as she came, clenching around her fingers. "That's it," he praised, his cock straining against his trousers. "So fucking good."

He pulled out slowly and brought his cum covered fingers up to his lips. Bradley licked them clean. As soon as they were, he gripped her chin and pulled her closer, kissing her. At the taste of herself on his lips, in his moustache, she grinned. She cupped his face as she pulled away and began kissing down his neck.

Bradley loved to leave his mark on her, love to leave dark bruises down her neck so that everybody knew who she belonged to. But he loved it when she marked it, laying her claim on him.

Bradley freed himself from his trousers. He held himself as he helped her to sink down onto his cock. She let our a whine as she stretched around him, a sound he could have listened to on repeat for the rest of his life.

She tried to move, but Bradley held her still. "Hang on, Pretty girl," he said and quickly kissed her. "Just sit here with me."

So she sat there, incredibly full of him. She whined as she leaned forward, her head against his chest. Bradley kissed her, wrapped his arms around her as he held her tight.

His attention went back to the movie they had forgotten about. She cried out in desperation, desperate for his attention.

He didn't give it to her, not right away. Every time he shifted slightly she cried out, but he kept her on the tantalising edge of pleasure.

Bradley did everything but fuck her. He held her so sweetly, kissed her softly and played with the ends of her hair. But then his hands slid down to her ass and she couldn't hide her excitement.

"You ready, Pretty girl?"

Desperately, she nodded her head. Bradley kept a tight hold of her as he bucked his hips towards her, fucking up into her. He snapped his hips towards her in quick thrusts as she cried out, his name leaving her lips again and again.

His breathing deepened and Bradley gripped her tighter, sure to leave bruising handprints. Handprints she would wear with pride. His pretty girl didn't have to do anything, not while he was taking care of her.

His name tumbling from her lips turned into incoherent babbling as she got closer and closer. She hissed out a string of curses, tears springing to her eyes as Bradley pushed her over for the second time.

His thrusts had grown slow. They weren't exactly sloppy, but they were slower, mindful of her overstimulated cried.

He pulled out, shooting his cum onto her stomach. As Bradley placed her on the sofa beside him, she scooped some of the cum from her stomach onto her finger. She placed it in her mouth and sucked it off, all while staring at him.

Fuck, he wanted to run a bath for her, but now he was ready to go again.

[bloatedandalone04]

Guys My Age

➪the one where you’re bradley’s kid’s babysitter, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you in every way.

Warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, hair pulling, dirty talk, dad bradley, age gap, aftercare aw, maybe a bit of a corruption kink (?), maybe size kink

Word Count: 4.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley was desperate to speed up guys night so he could go back home. Not only only was his one year old son, Theo, there, but you were, too. And he wanted you. Bad. 

But you were his kid’s babysitter.

His kid’s hot, kind and sexy babysitter he had no business feeling so attracted to.

It was bad enough there was a large age gap of ten years, with you being twenty three and him being thirty three. But you were far too stunning to pass up. He was down bad for you, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He could only hope you felt the same way about him, even though it was so wrong. Bradley knew it would feel so right. 

Jake and the others teased him about being so distracted all night, and Bradley finally decided he was going home and hoping he didn’t make an ass of himself in front of you. He drove home, his body on fire as he pictured you sitting in his living room, waiting for him to come home and relieve you of your duties. 

You were so good with Theo, and it only made Bradley even more attracted to you. He simply couldn’t help himself. 

He pulled into his driveway, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he pulled the keys out of the ignition. He still couldn’t believe what was happening to him. His attraction to you was so strong and intense, it kinda scared him a bit. It had been so long since he felt like this, especially since his ex-wife had left him with their newborn son for him to try and figure out how to be a parent on his own. 

Bradley hopped out of his Bronco and locked it behind him before heading towards the front door and entering his house. It was quiet, so you were probably up in Theo’s room with him. He threw his keys onto the counter before making his way upstairs and down the hall. 

When he reached his son’s room, he poked his head inside and sure enough, you were standing over Theo’s crib, watching him sleep. Bradley leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the sweet interaction of you leaning down to kiss Theo’s head. 

Seeing you be so gentle with Theo made Bradley’s cock twitch in his jeans, your sweetness sending waves of desire through his body. He had to bite down on his lip to stop the groan from coming out, because he refused to have you quit on him because you caught him watching you like a perv. 

Bradley cleared his throat, announcing his return to you. “Hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. You turned to face him quickly, and the surprised smile you gave him told him he’d caught you off guard. 

“Hi, Mr. Bradshaw,” you greeted back and he refrained from groaning again at that name. He loved when you called him that, but he craved to hear you call him by his first name, too. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, I just got back,” he replied, giving you a forced smile. “How was your night with Theo?”

Your smile grew as you looked down at his boy, “Oh, it was great. Theo is the sweetest baby ever,” 

Bradley hummed in agreement, knowing damn well your words were true. Theo was a sweet baby, and he had been since the second Bradley held him in that delivery room. “Um, have you eaten? I brought home pizza for dinner, and you’re more than welcome to join me,” he offered, hoping he wasn’t coming off as desperate, but also not caring if he did.

A blush took over your face as you looked over at him again. “Pizza sounds great. I haven’t eaten anything since I was planning on grabbing something on my way home,” you answered and Bradley grinned.

“Great,” he said and stepped aside, gesturing for you to lead the way. As he followed you into the kitchen, he was powerless to stop his eyes from taking in the curve of your hips and the way you walked. He had no idea why he found you so fucking intoxicating, but here he was. 

By the time he leaned against the counter next to the table, he was painfully hard and only a little ashamed of it. “So, um, how was guys night?” You asked as you hovered near the table, your eyes flickering towards the pizza box before looking back at him. 

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “Guys night was fine,” he responded. “But kind of boring. I gotta say, coming home to see you with my kid was probably the highlight of my night.”

Fuck, he really did not mean to say that out loud, but he did and now he can’t take it back. And now you’re blushing again and breaking eye contact with him. “Oh, um,” you trail off, dragging your finger along the edge of the pizza box. “That’s really nice. Thank you, Bradley- I mean, Mr. Bradshaw. I’m sorry.”

Well, fuck, he wants to hear you say his first name even more now. Bradley straightened up a bit and smiled at you. “Please, call me Bradley,”

When you looked back over at him, he knew something had changed. Something had shifted, he could tell by the way you bit your lip and looked at him with hooded, dark eyes he’d never seen before. 

Could you actually feel the same way about him? God, he hoped so, because he was about three seconds away from risking it all. 

He stepped towards you, hesitating for a brief second before he lifted his hand and placed it on your waist, and when you willingly turned to face him, he pulled you a bit closer. “I know this may sound inappropriate,” he started and reveled in the way your gaze flickered down to his lips. “But, God, Y/n…do you have any fucking idea what you do to me? Any idea about what I want to do to you?”

Your eyes widened a bit as you pressed your lips together and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the way your thighs pressed together, too. 

Bradley reached up with his free hand and gripped your jaw, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Tell me it’s not just me feeling this,” he rasped. “Tell me you feel it, too.”

The sound of your breath hitching and the sight of your eyes closing a bit was all the confirmation he needed. Well, that and the way you leaned up towards him with hunger in your eyes. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted before closing the distance between you and capturing your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His tongue pushed past your lips and delved into your mouth, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck as he angled your head. His other hand tightly gripped your hip and pulled you forward until there was no space left between the two of you. 

He kissed you possessively, needily, and you returned it with nearly everything he gave, and it was everything he wanted. Maybe more. 

You gasped against his lips and he groaned when he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. He could feel goosebumps form on your skin when he slid his hand under your shirt and placed it firmly on your lower back. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he confessed against your mouth before going back in. He pulled you impossibly closer with both hands on your back, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans as he allowed him to taste you in the way he thought he never could. 

A soft moan left your lips as you tugged on his hair and leaned back against the table, pulling him along with you. “I’ve wanted this, too,” you whispered before kissing him again. “Is this…this is…okay? I mean, I’m your son’s babysitter, I…”

Bradley pulled back, his chest heaving a bit as he kissed the side of your head. Really, was any of this actually wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it, and you both clearly wanted it. So was it really wrong? “We’re two consenting adults, Y/n. There’s nothing wrong with this,” he finally allowed himself to admit. “Besides, you’re not just Theo’s babysitter. You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and you make me feel things I haven’t felt in years.”

His hands slid down to the curve of your back, and his fingertips gently dug into the firm skin of your ass before he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“This isn’t just a fling for me,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against yours. “This means something more. Tell me you feel it, too.”

“I do,” you answer instantly. “Of course I do. I think you’re so attractive, but also kind and mature and everything I want.”

Bradley grinned, feeling his body heat up as he pushed himself closer to you. He was sure you could feel his boner by now, but there was no going back now. He was all in. “From now on, there’s no Mr. Bradshaw, okay? Just Bradley,” he whispered as he kissed along your jaw. 

“Okay,” you mumble with wide eyes and wet lips. “Bradley.”

He smirked, “Good girl,” then leaned back down to kiss you deeply again. His hand moved further down to squeeze your ass while his other moved up to grope your chest through the thin material of your tank top. You tasted so good, he was sure he would never get enough. 

“Oh, my God,” you whimpered, grabbing the sides of his neck as you leaned further back against the table, right next to the pizza you both had forgotten about. “You don’t know how hot you are when you call me that.”

Your body fit perfectly against his as he towered over you, his lips unrelenting as he kissed you. It felt like you belonged here, against him. “Good to know,” he grunted as he trailed kisses down your throat and pulled up your shirt until your lower stomach was exposed. “I want to hear every sound that leaves those pretty lips of yours. Every single one. Is that going to happen tonight, babygirl?”

You whimpered again when his fingers brushed against the underside of your bra. “What do you want to do to me?” You asked, breathless as you gripped his biceps. 

Bradley smiled down at you before pressing a much softer kiss to your lips. “That depends on you, sweetheart,” he began, pushing down one strap of your tank top. “First, I’m going to take these clothes off you and explore every inch of your sweet body with my mouth.”

Your quiet moans were probably the best thing he had ever heard in his life, and he continued, 

“I want to taste every part of you, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even remember your own name,” he promised, pulling down your bra strap as well until you were nearly exposed. “How does that sound to you? Do you want that?”

“I want that,” you whined, nodding quickly. “God, I want that, Bradley. I’ve been wanting that for months now.”

“Months, huh?” He echoed. “Jesus Christ, why didn’t you say something sooner?”

You groaned and lifted your arms when he began to pull up your shirt, and you gave him a look once he let the fabric fall to the floor of his kitchen. “Why didn’t you?”

“Fair point,” he muttered, his hands gently pulling your bra off as well, leaving your top half completely bare. He bit his lip and ran his thumbs along the undersides of your breasts, leaning in to whisper next to your ear, “We can take our time then. No rushing this first time.”

You whimpered quietly, tugging on his hair. “First time?”

Bradley hummed against the skin of your shoulder. “Yeah, first time. One of many,” his hands came up to caress your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I meant what I said, babygirl. This isn’t some fling for me. I want you, all of you, if you’ll have me.”

Your fingers grab hold of his jaw as you nod. “Yes. Yes, Bradley. I want that, all of that, too,”

At your words, Bradley lets out a sigh of relief. He knew he wasn’t alone in this. He knew, at least a small part of him knew, that you were into him, too. 

He grabbed your hips and bucked against you, a small jolt of relief taking over his body, but it wasn’t enough. “Then let’s make it official,” he mumbled, stepping away from you and pulling off his shirt. He unzips his jeans to feel a bit more relief, and when he looked back at you, your lips were parted and your eyes were wide. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” 

At your quick nod, he moves closer again and leans down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He gave it a gentle tug before soothing the sting with his tongue as his hand trails down your body. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, tipping your head back as you moved your hands to his hair again. “Are we really doing this?”

“We are,” he confirmed, releasing your nipple and looking down at you before dropping to his knees. His hands pulled down your jeans, and his eyes darkened at the pretty lace that covered your core from his greedy eyes. “These are cute, but they need to go.”

His fingers rubbed you through the material before he tugged it down and helped you kick them off to the side. Then you were completely bare to him, and you looked even more stunning than he imagined. Than he dreamed of. 

“God, you’re hot,” you moaned, trailing your fingers through his hair.

Bradley laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he stood back up and gripped the backs of your thighs, lifting you up and setting you down on the table. He nudged your thighs apart and guided your feet to rest flat against the service, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy. “Goddamn, baby.”

His breathing was uneven as he sank back down to his knees and gripped your thighs. “Bradley,” you whimpered, making him glance up and meet your gaze. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m gonna worship this pretty little pussy in the way it deserves,” he answered, leaning in to lick a stripe up your slick folds and moaning the taste he’s been craving for so long. “All night long, if you let me.”

Then he was going back in for a deeper taste, his tongue separating your slit  as his hands spread your thighs wider. Your sweet moans spurred him on, and he sucked on your clit as two of his fingers dipped inside your tight heat. 

“So fucking tight and wet for me,” he groaned, licking up your folds again. “I could devour you for hours, babygirl.”

“Fuck,” you cried out, gripping the edges of the table as you tip your head back. “Bradley.”

Hearing you moan his name had him grunting, and he throbbed in his jeans. This was getting to be too much, but he wasn’t about to stop now. He didn’t think he could physically pull away from your pussy if he tried. 

Loud, lewd slurping sounds filled the kitchen as he stayed true to his words and devoured you in the way you deserved, and your whimpers and gasps mixed in perfectly with the sounds his own mouth was making. “You’re so fucking responsive,” he rasped, blowing a cool puff of hair across your clit and making your body shudder. “How good am I making you feel, baby?”

“Fuck, so good,” you answered, pulling harshly on his hair. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please please please.”

Bradley fucked his fingers faster inside you, making sure to curl them against your tight walls. “I’m not stopping,” he swore, pressing his mouth to your clit. “I want you to cum all over my face.”

A soft cry left your lips as you ground your body against his face until you were coming. “Fuck! Oh, my God! Bradley!”

His eyes were fixated on your face as you writhed against him, and he wanted to drag this out for as long as he possibly could. He curled his fingers with each thrust of his hand, stroking that sweet spot deep inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit with no mercy. “Come on, baby, give me one more,” he fake begged. “I know you have another one in you.”

He went back to sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers inside you, and he felt the way you tightened around him even more. 

Then you were squirting on his face. 

“Fuck,” you practically sobbed as you soaked his face. Your thighs were shaking violently now, your pussy clamped around his dripping finger as he pulled back with wide, dark eyes. 

While he knew he could make you cum again, he was completely unprepared for the river that flooded his mouth and chin. He was fucking covered in you, and he literally almost came right then and there. “Fuck yeah,” he grunted breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out of you and stood up. He cleaned you from his fingers, then his palm, as he moved to position himself between your still trembling thighs, all while keeping eye contact with you. “Holy shit, baby.”

He kissed you deeply, moaning at the way your tongue licked all over his mouth and tasted yourself on his lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at your wet thighs, and the small puddle that had pooled under you on the table that was beginning to drip onto the tiled floor. “That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen,” he grunted. “You almost made me cum from that.”

Your laugh made him grin as you finally regained control over your breathing. “Fuck, I’ve never done that before,”

Bradley groaned loudly, licking his lips and closing his eyes at the taste of you that still lingered on them. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, his eyes ten shades darker as he looked at you. “I need to be inside you. Right now before I lose what’s left of my mind,” he murmured, giving his cock a few much-needed strokes. “Please, can I fuck you, baby?”

Your gaze was locked on his cock as you nodded. “Yes…yes, fuck me, Bradley,” you said quietly as you grabbed hold of the edge of the table. “Right here.”

He couldn’t ignore the way your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, and his ego grew even more. He knew he was big, but you made him feel like he had the biggest dick in the world. He was definitely the biggest you had ever seen, he could tell that from the look you were giving him now, and he felt a sense of pride wash over him. 

Bradley gripped his base and your thigh as he guided his tip to your sopping entrance, and then he pushed inside with one swift movement. You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he felt your walls encase him perfectly. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, not when he felt like he was two seconds away from coming. 

Bradley gripped your hips and set a brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast as you whimpered and clawed at the skin on his neck. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he fucked into you ruthlessly, the table creaking under each thrust. “Yeah, baby, take it all,” he grunted, looking down to watch the way his cock came out wetter and wetter each time he buried it inside you. “This is what you needed, isn’t it, sweetheart? You needed this tight pussy to be stretched open and fucked by a real man, huh?”

You nodded, then let out a loud cry as he began rubbing your puffy clit, and then you were coming around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You moaned, your eyes squeezed shut as your body trembled in his arms. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, his own body begging for release, but he held back as best as he could. His pelvis slammed against yours as he didn’t let up his pace, and your head tipped back as you let him continue to fuck you. “More, babygirl. I want to feel you cum for me again.”

You whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing your heels against his back. “Fuck, Bradley. Don’t stop fucking me. You feel too good to stop…keep going,”

Yeah, you were pretty much perfect. 

Bradley grunted as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust he gave, and he had to tighten his holds on your thighs as he felt his whole body tense up. He didn’t want to cum yet. You felt too good, too. He never wanted this to end. “You’re mine,” he muttered, his cock throbbing inside you as he leaned down to press a hard kiss to your mouth. “All mine, baby.”

He reached down and pulled your thigh higher on his hip, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you clung to his biceps. “Your cock is fucking huge, Bradley. Feels so fucking good.” 

The filthy words pouring from your mouth only turned him on even more, because you were his son’s sweet babysitter. There was something incredibly arousing to hear such dirty words spill from your seemingly innocent lips, especially since less than half an hour ago, you were his quiet and shy babysitter. 

“Fucking hell. You’re so wet for me, baby, and you’ve got such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growled, feeling the way your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, squeeze my dick just like that…just like that.”

When you came for a fourth time, he couldn’t hold back any more. Your hands were a bit frantic as you touched every part of him, trying to stable yourself as he fucked you through your high until he reached his own. With a loud groan, he buried himself deep inside you before coming hard. 

His cum filled you up, his thrusts slowing down to weak bucks of his hips as his head fell onto your shoulder. Both your bodies were covered in sweat, and you both were panting. “I think I might have broken you,” he teased softly, peppering kisses along your salty skin as he slowly pulled out of you. “But don’t worry, babygirl. I’m gonna take care of you now.” 

A soft whimper left your lips as you looked down to see his cum dripping out of you. “Bradley…that…that was…” 

You were still shaking and he didn’t blame you. If he came four fucking times in less than half an hour, he’d be on the floor right now. “It was amazing,” he finished for you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your mouth. “I’ve never had sex like that before in my entire life.”

He gathered up your trembling body into his arms and carried you into his bathroom and set you down onto the bathroom counter as he got the shower ready. Once it was at a good temperature, he lifted you up again and stepped under the water with you. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, waiting until he knew you could hold yourself up before he began washing your mixed cum away from the insides of your thighs. 

It was as if you couldn’t be away from him right now, as when he stood back up, you forced yourself into his arms again and clung to his chest. 

As the water poured down onto the both of you, Bradley kissed the top of your head and held you close. “That wasn’t just sex,” he murmured, running his fingers through your wet hair as he recalled his words from a few minutes ago. “It was something special. You’re more than just the girl who looks after my kid a couple times a week, babygirl. You’re someone very important to Theo and I.”

You blushed at his words and desperately kissed him back when he leaned down to press his lips to yours. “I am?”

Bradley caressed your face, his thumbs tugging on your kiss swollen lips. “You are,” he answered. “From the second I saw you, I knew there was something different about you. You brought light back into my life and you’re so perfect with Theo. And I intend to keep you right here with me, if you’ll let me.”

You pressed your lips together and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “That wasn’t just sex for me, either,” you say against his mouth. “That was one of the best experiences of my life. From the start…til right now.”

Bradley grinned down at you before kissing you again. “You’re mine,” he repeated his words he said back in the kitchen. 

And the smile you gave him told him all he needed to know, and he leaned back in to kiss you again, and continued to until the water turned cold.

[withahappyrefrain]

Run Me Dry-Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: You and Bradley try something new in bed.

Warnings: language, Bradley's cock , oral (f! receiving), fucking from the back, this is just pure filth

Everything about him was warm. The hairs of his mustache sent electric sparks throughout your body. His tanned skin. His lips. God, his lips. Bradley’s lips felt like heaven. 

Every kiss, every grasp of his hands, every flick of his tongue pulled you deeper and deeper into a pleasure filled haze. 

Bradley was attentive. The intense gaze radiated off your skin, his whiskey casted eyes constantly watching you, looking out for any change in your body movements or pitch in the moans rolling off your tongue. He was deliberate, immediately adjusting the angle his fingers were thrusting inside of you, the intensity of which he sucked your clit upon noticing any change, be it the pitch in your breathing or sounds of your moans. 

You had tried to pull him up by grasping his soft golden brown strands of hair, wanting to return the favor, but he wasn’t having it. 

Bradley found you addicting. You were sweet inside and out. Your skin, your lips, your moans. If he could spend the rest of your life between your thighs, he'd die a happy man. 

But you were a bit selfish (more so than you let on). As incredible as his mouth was, as nimble and strategic his fingers were, despite how absolutely divine it felt to look down and see his mouth working your soaked core, 

you wanted to be full of him. 

So instead of meagerly gripping his hair after coming down from your third (or fourth?) high, you practically yanked on the strands, forcing Bradley to look up, finally giving your poor cunt some rest. 

His lips quickly found yours, his body covering like a blanket. How were his lips perpetually soft? How did you manage to get this dream of a man in your arms? 

How could you get him to fuck you now?

The questions rolled through your head like waves. While the first two required a deeper level of inquiry, the third one didn’t. Bradley wouldn’t make a move unless you explicitly stated your desires for it, a result of being raised by Carole Bradshaw. 

No amount of whines, moans, or hip rolling would be enough. Bradley needed your words. 

Words were becoming easier to find with him. The doubts that had originally clouded your head were slowly but surely forming into small rain drops, getting easier and easier to wash away with each passing day. 

It still took you time to form the words. Not that Bradley mind, patient as ever. Always ready to go at your own pace. Partly because his mother did in fact, raise a gentleman. But mainly because he was so in love with you that the idea of scaring you off terrified him. 

“What’cha need Birdie?” When he said your nickname in that deep, raspy voice, you felt your body practically melt. Your head felt like cotton, dizzy and full. Your lips parted and closed several times. Words were escaping you. 

Your hand would have to do. 

Bradley Bradshaw truly believed he had hit the fucking lottery with you. 

How someone so smart, so kind, so observant and sweet and loving and beautiful would pick him of all people (Bob was right there) blew his mind. Some days he worried that he would wake up at the Naval Medical Center to find out this was all a drug-induced coma. 

He was trying to be a gentleman, and had even planned to take you out on a nice date, the little Italian place Jake and Venus recommended. But then you came out of the bedroom in that adorable little sundress, the citrus pattern reminding Bradley of what else he’d like to sink his teeth into. 

It was only meant to be a heated kiss. Did Bradley know better? Did he know that one kiss would lead to more, which would lead to falling onto the bed with you? 

Absolutely. 

But he also knew you would tell him to stop, to cut it out, to get ready for dinner, if you really wanted to. 

“Do you still want to go to dinner?” He asked, ignoring that the fabric of your dress had been pushed up to your hips and his shirt was completely unbuttoned. 

You chuckled, eyes bright, “No. Not at all. C-can we keep going?”

It was absolutely unfair, how cute you were. In the back of his mind, Bradley still felt like you deserved better. Someone younger, someone whose job didn’t require risking their life, someone who could be with you all the time. 

And yet, despite all that information, you still welcomed him with open arms, still clung to him when you had plenty of reasons to run away. 

Right now, Bradley was glad you were clinging onto him, your soft, cool skin a welcomed reprise. He would have been alright with just clinging, relishing in the sensation of your skin against his, two sets of lips all over each other. 

Like a bird strike, you surprised Bradley, throwing him for a loop. Your hand reaching past the waistband of his boxer briefs, wrapping itself around his cock made him freeze, mentally willing himself not to come right then and there. 

That spitfire side of you was slowly but surely coming out. Last night it was through a cheeky response to Jake and his wife, Venus. 

Tonight, it was when you looked up at him, your hand gently wrapping around his shaft. Despite your chest heaving and shaky breathing, you didn’t break eye contact as your thumb tenderly swiped the head of his cock, eliciting a whimper from Bradley that was downright delectable. 

“B-Bradley,” your voice was soft, almost meek, “W-want you.”

Some day, he’ll ask you to specifically say you want his cock inside you. Today was not that day, which was fine. The fact you took the initiative to state your wants thrilled Bradley to no end. He didn’t even have to encourage you. 

He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. “That’s my girl, telling me what she wants,” He cooed, ignoring the warmth that was flooding your face, “I’m gonna get a condom, okay? You wait right here.”

Yes, here. On your back. 

Again. 

Sex with Bradley was phenomenal, euphoric even. But there was always room for growth. 

It wasn’t anything he was doing wrong. Fuck, he was practically perfect, always checking in on you, focused on your comfort rather than his own pleasure. Before Bradley? Sex felt uncomfortable, something you were just supposed to do. Staring at the ceiling had become a hobby to help pass the time. 

But now that you had experienced sex with Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, it was obvious that sex was quite the opposite. Now, having acquired such vital knowledge, you wanted to explore, to experiment. 

You wanted to try something besides missionary. 

The position had many positives. Being able to hold hands, to kiss, to watch his handsome face twist in pleasure as he came. But, the desire to try something else, something less wholesome, lurked inside you, growing with each bedroom experience. 

What would it be like to ride him? You could look down and see him come, see him fall apart just like he could with you. Would he let you control the pace? Or would he place those stupidly large hands on your hips, dictating the rhythm with his sheer strength?

What if you couldn’t see him? What if he couldn’t see your face because it was buried in a pillow? Oh, to be on your knees for Bradley Bradshaw and allow him to take you-that’s what you desired most of all, what you thought of when alone at night with just your hand and toys. 

He was strong enough to manipulate you into such positions. But Carole Bradshaw raised a gentleman. Bradley would never do that-unless you explicitly asked. 

Just the very thought of asking had your stomach in knots, your tongue tied. If you stayed in your current position, Bradley would still make you see stars. But the idea of it becoming mundane would still gnaw at you and wouldn’t stop until it was all-consuming, making you blurt it out at the worst time. 

A Navy Ball was coming up next month and Bradley had already asked you to be his date. You couldn’t risk it. Loose lips sink ships, especially when fueled by wine. 

But how could you even ask? Hey, can you fuck me doggy style? Hey, I know we’ve only been dating for like a month, but can you manhandle me?

Perhaps words wouldn’t be needed. You thought back to earlier, when you had wrapped a hand around Bradley’s cock. He instantly knew what you wanted, even though you said four words at most. 

So you moved, quietly. Flipping over so you were now on your stomach, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. Arching your back, revealing your bare cunt. 

God, you felt ridiculous. 

“Holy fuck- Nori.” His special nickname for you wasn't said in its usual saccharine laced mischievous tone. 

No. It was deep and raspy. A primal moan that made your thighs clench. 

While you were worried about looking ridiculous, Bradley was trying to remember where he kept his mother’s engagement ring. 

He was pretty sure it was the sock draw in his dresser. Bradley was also pretty sure his mother's soul would come down from heaven and personally smite him if he proposed right now. 

But the urge to do so was justified in Bradley's mind, considering you were on his bed looking like a fucking goddess with your back arched, ass up to show off your bare cunt to him, moonlight decorating your arched back. 

Bradley quickly closed the gap between your bed and the doorway. Part of you wanted to look up, the other part too scared. A large hand ghosted over your skin, starting at your neck, down your back, stopping just short of your ass. 

The hand came back up your body, as if he was trying to commit every mark, mole, stretchmark, to memory. You were positive your breathing could be heard from two rooms over. Finally, fingers traced over the curve of your ear, landing at your chin, tilting it up. 

“Is this how you want me to fuck you?” His voice was low. You would have found it sexy if it weren’t for how rhetorical his question was. 

“Actually, I was hoping for reverse cowgirl.”  The words came out before you could even think. Immediately, regret washed over your body. 

But Bradley simply chuckled. You had tried to hide that sharp mouth side of you. It was a side you had been made to push down and stow away for years. 

“No one wants to date a girl like that.” “No one wants a teacher like that.”

Bradley loved it. You still recalled the way he howled when you accidentally revealed your first impression of him. He wanted to see more of that side and most importantly, he wanted to have fun with it. 

Of course, words still could have consequences. 

The sound of his hand smacking against your ass echoed throughout the room. What was louder? That sound or the moan you let out?

You could feel the bed dip as he got on, pressing his weight down. God, he was so big. Height had never been a factor when it came to who you dated. But it sent you into a tizzy when you were reminded how big, how strong he was. 

Fuck, did you have a size kink?

This revelation had to be explored for later because right now you couldn’t think about anything else aside from the fact Bradley’s cock was sliding through your slicked folds. 

Screw being polite. Screw being reserved. You rocked yourself backwards, shamelessly hoping to catch his cock, to feel him inside you, even if it’s just the tip. 

Bradley’s hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, steadying you, “Easy Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

Why was he so endearing? Why was he always a gentleman? Why was he so just, perfect?

Every day, that question becomes less prominent in your mind. Maybe it was a good thing. Definitely something to talk to your therapist about. 

“You ready?” Bradley’s voice was a much needed reprise from your internal debates. Eagerly, you nodded your head. 

“Wanna hear ya say it baby girl,” He leaned over, his body covering yours like a weighted blanket. Looking up, you only received a glimpse of him. The intensity of his amber eyes was nearly all too much. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, breathless, “I-I’m ready.”

Bradley leaned over to press a soft kiss against your warm cheek, “That’s my girl.”

His girl. You were his girl. 

He leaned forward, guiding his cock to your welcoming entrance. Even though it was just his head, the stretch made you rock forward, hands clutching the bedsheets. You and Bradley had done this dance enough times that you knew to let him lead, to take it slow so as to not injure you. 

It was just as hard for Bradley as it was for you. You were so warm, inviting. 

“Shit,” his voice was shaky, as if he had just done over a hundred pushups on the turmac, “So fucking wet for me, Nori..” 

Your eyes screwed shut in pleasure, a small ah-huh falling from your lips. It's overwhelming, slowly feeling every inch of him. This fullness was new, and you honestly weren’t sure if you would ever get used to it. Just when you thought you were ready, he leaned forward, reminding you he wasn’t all the way in yet. 

Fuck. 

“Taking me so well,” Bradley’s breath was hot on your ear, “Want me to start moving?” 

“P-please,” you nod eagerly, mustering up all your strength to get that one word out. Your fingers gripped the bedsheets, not that it prepared you when he thrusted forward. 

The new angle allowed Bradleys cock to immerse itself even deeper inside you. He started off slow, building up to a rhythm that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. It's addicting, feeling so full that the only thing you can do is pay your head against the pillow as whimpers fall from your mouth into the fabric, muffling the sound. 

Bradley sees this and stills his hips because if he can’t watch your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, he certainly wants to hear it. 

“Baby,” He leans over, “Wanna hear all those pretty noises you make.”

For once, you oblige without hesitation. To Bradley’s surprise (and pleasure), you prop yourself on your elbows, leaning back to fully immerse yourself on his cock. A broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls of your bedroom. The verdict was still out on whether heaven was real or not, but you imagined Bradley’s cock was a similar sensation. 

Bradley has similar thoughts as he watches, memorized by the way you work yourself on his cock. Your moans were prettier than any song he had ever heard. 

“Look at you,” he clicked his tongue, “you’re right where you belong.”

Your walls clenched at his words, drawing out an animalistic grunt from Bradley. His praise spurred you on because yes, you did belong right here, with his cock inside you. You were his, his girl to use. 

But he was so big and you hadn’t anticipated how full you would feel at this angle. Soon, you found yourself tiring out, having bitten off more than you could chew.

“Roo,” you whined, hands clutching the bedsheets, “Need…..fuck…..need help.”

Bradley’s hands found your hips, gripping the soft flesh, “Don’t worry, I got ya. It’s so much for you, huh? My cock?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, practically sighing in relief upon feeling him pull you back on his cock, filling you completely. The sound of his skin slapping against yours quickly filled the room. It was obscene, combined with the lewd sounds of your wetness. 

You fucking loved it. This type of sex, animalistic and possessive, always sparked a curiosity in you. But bringing it up to previous partners had scared you; the thought of rejection, or worse, disgust, driving you off. 

Not with Bradley. 

With Bradley, you could not only bring it up, but you felt like you could be bold. Could actually state what you wanted, with words or actions. It’s why you felt no shame in taking one of his hands and bringing it down to where you two met. 

“Need help, Birdie?” His voice was so raspy. Combined with the way he was panting, it was one of, if not the hottest thing you had ever heard. 

“Please,” you whined, barely able to get the single word out due to how his cock was hitting that spot that made you see stars behind your eyes. 

“So fucking sweet, y’know that?” His hand moved up your body until it arrived at your mouth, his long fingers tapping at your lips, “Need your help. You can do that, right? ‘Course you can, ‘cause you’re my sweet girl.”

Your lips parted, moaning around his fingers as you went to his knuckles, covering his nimble digits in your spit. Bradley had to will himself not to come right then and there. It was ridiculous, how hot you were and how unaware you were about the fact. How your previous partners let that go was beyond him. 

“Good girl,” he cooed, reveling in how your tongue was desperately trying to coat his fingers. You nodded along, practically gagging on his fingers. 

He pulled away, returning to where his hand was originally placed. The calloused pads of his fingers felt divine on your clit. All worries and anxieties had exited your head, the only thing you could focus on was how good he felt, how good it felt to be fucked by Bradley Bradshaw. 

Bradley knew you were close from the way your tight walls clenched on his cock. You needed just a little more, a little something to push you over the edge. 

Thinking back to earlier this week, when you two were in the kitchen, he leaned over, his chest covering your back. Before you could verbally acknowledge it, a large hand wrapped itself around your throat, restricting your airflow. 

Almost immediately, your thighs began to shake, head dizzy from the lack of oxygen. It was so much, you weren’t sure what to focus on: his thick cock that was sending electric shocks along your body, the way his long fingers spanned the eternity of your neck, the fingertips that were drawing sloppy circles on your throbbing clit. The hairs of his mustache that were tickling the shell of your ear, the downright filth he was whispering. 

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it. God, you were fuckin’ made for this. Made to take my cock, weren’t ya? Ya hear that?” He paused, allowing  you to hear the lewd squelching sound coming from where your bodies connected, “That’s how wet ya are. Ya like this, like when I fuck you like a whore?”

You wailed, “Yes!” No shame in your voice, zero hesitation, all partly out of fear that if you didn’t respond, Bradley would stop. And you were so close.

 “God, so fucking hot and you don’t even know it, do ya? Knew you were a dirty girl.” 

HIs words sent you over the edge. Maybe you should have felt some shame at what he was saying, but the truth of it was you loved it. Bradley’s moans echoed off the walls as he felt you practically clamped down on his cock, your walls spasming, making it almost difficult for him to continue his thrusts. But he continued, knowing it was what you needed to prolong your pleasure. 

“That’s it, soak my cock. Needed this so bad, didn’t you?” You nodded, babbling about something, probably begging him not to stop. Whether you actually said that or not, Bradley acted accordingly. His thrusts continued, his own hips beginning to stutter as he felt himself get closer to the edge. 

Both of his hands now tightly gripped your hips, enabling him to continue to hover over you. Making you come gave him a better high than any other drug or air maneuver ever could. 

He pulled your hips to his with one last thrust, coming with a groan of your name. One day, you would be able to feel him come inside, be able to be filled with his cum. 

That required an actual discussion. 

But for now, you could take pleasure in feeling his cock twitch, knowing it was your doing. For now, you could lay here in bed, his warm skin covering you like a weighted blanket, as you both came down from your highs. 

Bradley pressed a soft kiss, first to the shell of your ear, then to your cheek, finally stopping at the corner of your lips, “Gonna pull out now, okay?” 

You could only nod, slightly winching when he pulled out, now able to feel just how much you had comed. 

“I’ll be right back, pretty girl. Gonna get a washcloth.” God, did you really come that much? Heat rushed to your face upon realizing it was your arousal dripping down to your thighs. 

“Here, let’s get ya on your back,” Bradley’s large hands help maneuver your body. Your limbs felt like JellO, quickly accepting his help. The soft mattress was a godsend, your body quickly sinking into your soft bed. His hands were now gentle, wiping you down with great care. He knew you had to be sore, even if you didn’t currently feel it. 

Your hands found themselves grabbing Bradley’s shoulders, trying to pull him towards you. 

Bradley chuckled, quickly receiving your message, “I gotcha, I gotcha sweet girl. C’mere.” 

He laid down, pulling your body towards him until your head was able to rest on his broad chest. A blanket was pulled up to cover you both. You found yourself snuggling into Bradley’s side as you processed what just happened. 

“You good Birdie?” Bradley asked, his fingers lazily drawing shapes on your back. 

“Holy shit.” 

Bradley couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh at your words, “That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathing still shaky, “Really fucking good.” 

His arm wrapped itself around your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze, “Looks like we both had a great time.” 

You simply nodded, a giddy smile appearing on your face, “We should do it again. Soon.”

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, I’m no longer a spry young chicken. Gonna have to wait, Birdie.”

You looked up at him, your grin widening upon seeing his ruddy cheeks and a look in his eyes that could best be described as love, even though you didn’t want to assume. Not yet. 

“I’ll wait for you. It’s worth it.” Heat rushed to Bradley’s face, a beautiful flush adorning his handsome features. He bit his tongue, afraid that the three words that were threatening to spill out might scare you off. So instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reveling in the feeling of your warm body pressed against his. 

If given the choice, Bradley would stay here forever with you. 

You feel the same way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

@gretagerwigsmuse @cherrycola27 @idunnowhattonamethis @st4rs-l1ghts @lyn-js @bellaireland1981 @melblueberry @callsign-cacti @jb3ar08 @bringbacktim @venusdiorarmstrong @9ullmans @ssavanessa22 @sometimesanalice @izz-ayes-world @idontcare-11 @phoenixhalliwell @teacupsandtopgun @rae-gar-targaryen @blue-aconite @ryebecca @dissonannce @roosterforme @bradshawsbaby

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

You guyyysss! Full series available now 💛

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 1

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Eventual Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol

—————————

18+ Only

—————————




Since you can remember, Bradley Bradshaw has been the bane of your existence.




Your earliest recollection of him is when you moved to town, just next door to him. He was a good 5 years older than you, but you immediately had a huge crush on him.




This was quickly squashed when he began to tease you, and then teasing turned to bullying, and you swore you’d spend the rest of your life hating him.




You remember seeing him playing in his garden when you were 7, hanging some toy planes in a tree and shooting them out with his slingshot.




You meandered over in your little yellow dress, hair curled and all of your best glittery bracelets on, you looked adorable and we’re confident he would think you were the bees knees.




You stood watching him destroy his toy planes, patiently waiting for him to notice you.




Eventually you spoke up, “That looks like fun, can I play?”




Bradley turned around to eye you up, the 12 year old glaring at you like he’d never seen a girl before. He then turned back around, ignoring you, and continued to shoot at his planes.




You walked closer and looked up at him.




“I’m Y/N! What’s your name?”




Bradley scowled down at you, “This game isn’t for girls, and my name is none of your business, kid, now scram.”




Your smile fell from your face, and you crossed your arms with a huff, “That’s rude. I’m gonna tell my mom if you don’t let me play with you.”




Bradley lifted his slingshot and aimed it right at you, you screamed and ducked before running back to your house.




“Mommy! Mommy!”




Bradley shot a pebble at you, but luckily his aim was still shocking and he missed.




From that day onwards, you tried to steer clear of the mean boy next door, but that was becoming increasingly difficult as your mom became friends with his mom. They spent a lot of time chatting on the steps in front of each others houses, and tried very hard to coax you and Bradley to play together.




“I don’t want to go over, can’t I just stay here?” You argued one day, your mom brushing your soft locks as she got you ready for a play date next door.




“No my love, I can’t leave you home alone. Carole has kindly made us lunch so it would be rude not to go, wouldn’t it?” She said softly. Your mom was so gentle but it was hard to argue with her reasoning.




You nodded sulkily, and a few minutes later you were being carted off to the Bradshaws, your hand in your moms and eyes red from your crocodile tears.




Carole welcomed you inside, but Bradley was nowhere to be seen, much to your relief.




You liked Carole, she was warm and friendly, much like your own mom, and you were more than happy to sit with the adults and converse about your new barbie and how school was going, but much to your dismay, Carole took your hand and guided you to her sons bedroom.




“Here you go sweetheart, Bradley’s inside, I’m sure he’ll let you play with any of his toys.” She said sweetly, pushing the door open and nudging you inside.




The bedroom was blue and covered with model airplanes and cars, very much a boys bedroom, and Bradley sat in the centre of his bed, tearing apart an old plastic truck he’d clearly damaged during one of his rather destructive play times.




You stood awkwardly at the door as Carole walked away.




Bradley glanced up at you before looking back down at his toy, tearing bits of plastic off. “If you touch any of my stuff I’ll get you with my slingshot. I’ve been practicing.”




You frowned and your arms crossed over your polka dot dress. “My mom says if a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you.” You stated confidently.




Bradley pulled a face and stuck his tongue out in disgust, “Gross, girls have cooties, and you look like you have the most cooties out of everyone. And your pigtails are stupid.”




You went red with rage, how dare he insult your hair. Angrily you balled your hands into fists and stormed over to Bradley, landing a punch against his arm. He barely winced, but he turned and shoved you so hard that you landed with an ‘ooph’ on the ground.




You burst into tears, wailing for your mom who quickly came to your aid.




“Baby what happened?” She cooed, scooping you up in her arms as Carole glared down at Bradley.




“He- he PUSHED me!” You wailed, and Bradley scowled at you.




“She punched me first!” He argued.




Unfortunately for your mom and Carole, this little spat resulted in you having to go home early, and they resorted to chatting in the garden going forward, but you were more than happy not to have to see Bradley much going forward.




You would occasionally see him playing in the front garden, but you’d just ignore him and play by yourself. Eventually you made friends and Bradley was actually nice to them, but still treated you as if you had a highly contagious disease.




Your little heart hated him to the best of its ability, and you avoided him like the plague, yet he would still throw water balloons at you when you weren’t looking, or tell his friends that you were weird. Sometimes he would call you names as he drove past on his bike, but all of that was nothing compared to when you started high school.




Bradley was in his final year as you started your first, and still as immature as the day you met him, he made your life a living hell.




You remembered your first day for all of the wrong reasons.




You met up with your friends at the front gate, all walking in for your first day of high school together, excited about what was to come and nervous at the same time. You had bought cute matching stationary and a new outfit for the first day of school, and your mom had dropped you off, as proud as a mother could be.




But all of that excitement was quickly dampened as soon as you saw Bradley in the corridor, the smile on your face dropping like melted ice cream.




He had spotted you first, staring at you menacingly from his circle of friends down the further end of the corridor.




“Who’s that, your little girlfriend?” One of his friends teased, a dorky looking guy.




“Her? Not a chance. She’s my weird neighbour. She’s been obsessed with me since we were kids.” He told his friends.




You had stopped listening to your friends chatting now, your ears straining to make out Bradley’s words as your face grew blood red.




“Her dad even had to leave the country just to get away from her, she’s a psycho. Once had to actually shove her off of me just to get her to take a hint.” You watched in horror as he lied to his friends, your heart shattering when he brought up your dad.




Your dad had moved to the UK when he divorced your mom after finding someone else. You didn’t hate him for it, but it hurt that he’d abandoned you so easily, and hearing Bradley twist the situation made you want to throw up.




You ran into the bathroom and began to sob, you contemplated even just calling your mom to pick you up, not sure you could ever show your face again, but your friends managed to calm you down and you agreed to see the day through.




You had hoped his bullying would end there, but most days you couldn’t even get to classes without either Bradley or one of his stupid friends mocking you, calling you names or spreading a rumour. Retaliating only made it worse, and his friends would argue that you were obsessed with him and we’re finding reasons to speak to him, so eventually you stopped defending yourself.




Once you even made the mistake of wearing white jeans to school, and Bradley squeezed ketchup down the back of them as he walked past you in the cafeteria, then loudly exclaiming that you’d gotten your period.




Thankfully, once Bradley had graduated high school, you barely had to deal with him anymore, and the rest of high school passed in a much lighter fashion.




Around summer time in 9th grade however, your world came crashing down suddenly, when Carole passed away. You’d come to adore her, even if her son was your worst nightmare.




You and your mom mourned her but Bradley of course was in the worst state.




Alone in his moms house, your mom would often

go over and cook dinner for him, ensuring he had anything he needed. She had asked Bradley to come and stay, but he had declined politely, saying he was able to look after himself and would rather be in his own home.




You actually felt bad for him, and despite your troubled past with him, you decided to offer your condolences.




Braving it, you walked over to his house and knocked on the door. A few minutes passed without an answer, so you knocked again.




Eventually you decided to let yourself in, so you pushed the door open and carefully stepped inside.




“Bradley?” You called out. The house felt empty and sounded even more so. You ventured further in and checked the lounge, kitchen and hallway. Nothing.




Bradley’s room was empty, so you checked Carole’s last, and to your surprise Bradley was curled up on his moms bed, fast asleep.




You thought about just leaving, which you probably should have, but something inside you urged you forward. You sat at the end of the bed and waited. You weren’t sure what you were waiting for, not sure what you could even say or do to make him feel better. You weren’t even sure why you were trying to make him feel better, but your heart ached for him.




Slowly you reached out and placed a gentle hand against his ankle, shaking him.




Bradley stirred, but didn’t seem to wake, so you shook him again.




“Bradley.” You whispered.




He suddenly shot up in bed, a look of confusion on his face as he stared at you groggily.




“What are you doing here?” He spat.




“I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for your loss. I can’t… can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I didn’t like the thought of you being all alone so I-“




He cut you off with a snap, “So you thought you’d just break into my house and sit here like a creep, watching me?”




You didn’t know what to say, you were surprised by his level of anger, even for Bradley.




“No, I knocked, I just-“




“What is wrong with you? Can you just get out? Leave me the fuck alone, Y/N.” He laid back down and turned his back on you, and you fought back tears as you left.




You decided that you were officially done with Bradley Bradshaw then and there, and when he joined the navy, you thought if you never saw him again, it would still be too soon.




————————————




After high school, you went on to study Meteorology in New York, and would often visit home, or your mom would come to New York to visit you, but not once did you see Bradley, despite the fact that he had not yet sold Carole’s house.




You were quite relieved, but over the years the hatred subsided slightly, although it never fully went away. As an adult you grew past it, you were the bigger person and you pitied him in the end.




In college you met someone and moved in together, life was actually looking up, but after 7 years together and with your studies now finished, your relationship quickly fell apart, and you decided to move back home.





Around a week after moving back home, you sat on the front porch reading your new book, checking your phone every half an hour, waiting to hear back about job interviews, when a familiar truck pulled up outside Carole’s house.




You looked up, squinting against the afternoon sun, and your body turned cold.




Bradley.




You hadn’t seen him in many years, thankfully, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to notice you.




You ducked your head down and pretended to read, holding your breath as you waited for him to go inside. Unfortunately today was not your lucky day and you heard the hard ground crunch under his boots.




“Well I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”




His deep voice rang out across your garden. You groaned and looked up at him. He looked different. He was big now, muscles bulging out of every limb, taller than you’d remembered and a corny porn star moustache on his lip. He still had the same curls, but they were now tinted gold by the sun and his skin had a warmer tone.




He looked good, you couldn’t deny that.




“Bradshaw. Long time no see, sad that my record is broken.” You broke eye contact and looked back down at your book, hoping he’d take a hint and leave.




Bradley chuckled dryly, swinging his car keys around his finger.




“I hear your relationship crashed and burned. Can’t say it surprises me.” He smirked.




“Eat a dick, Bradley.” You said as you got up and went to move inside.




“Nice to see you haven’t changed.” He mumbled.




You suddenly grew hot, rage bubbling up under your skin, and you spun round to face him.




“Me?! Good to see you’re still the same ass face as you were 10 years ago.” You spat back.




“Wow, great come back, Einstein. Is that what you left to study? If so you really should go back to school.”




He was getting under your skin and he knew it, yet he stood there as cool as a cucumber.




“Fuck you!” You yelled, throwing your book at him. It hit his shoulder as he moved to block it and landed on the ground with a thump.




“Jeez, calm down, you’re so feisty now.” He bent to pick up your book and began reading an except.




“And she longed to run her hands through his soft golden locks-“




You ran down the steps and tried to grab the book, “Give that back.” But he held it out of reach.




“and dreamt of his lips on hers, but it never would be, not when he was betrothed to another.” He chuckled as he read, finding it amusing how you struggled to reach. “Wow, you really do need this book, considering it’s all the action you’re gonna get.”




You huffed as he shoved the book into your chest. “I thought you would have grown up by now, but I really shouldn’t be surprised to see you’re still the same immature child you always were.” You turned to walk into the house just as your mom came to see what all the commotion was.




She beamed as she laid eyes on Bradley and stuck out her arms for a hug, walking down the steps towards him, “Sweetheart! How are you?”




Bradley happily hugged her back and grinned over her shoulder at you. “I’m good Elsie, thank you, how are you?” As if butter wouldn’t melt.




“I’m good my love, I see you’ve been catching up with my darling daughter, don’t let me interrupt. Hope you’ll come over for dinner some time before you get deployed again!” She smiled at you both as she went back into the house.




You glared at Bradley. “Please don’t tell me you’ve started dating my mom?”

You joked.




Bradley winked at you as he turned to walk away, “Rather your mom than you.” He replied.




You knew he was joking, or at least you hoped, but it stung that Bradley hadn’t changed, and what was worse was that he seemingly knew all about your failed relationship yet you knew nothing about his life. The last thing you wanted was for him to have yet another one-up on you.




Little did you know that would be the very least of your worries that month.




———————————

- Part 2 Here -

[sunlightmurdock]

go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like, I know your daddy ain’t home so ride with me tonight. you always wind up here in a puddle of tears.

or, she’s a small-town smokeshow, he’s an asshole from back home.

[rootedinrevisions]

A Countdown to Us

SUMMARY: As the clock ticks toward midnight on New Year's Eve, the air is charged with more than just the promise of a new year. With every stolen glance and every lingering touch between you and Bradley, you inch closer to a moment that could change everything in your friendship. In the midst of the fireworks and celebration, will you take a leap and let the sparks between you ignite?

A/N: I've had this WIP in my drafts for a while (kind of). It started out as friends to lovers, and then I decided to try to put the New Year's Eve twist on it, and I think it turned out well. This will be the last of my holiday fics and after this I'm going to go back to working on requests (still not accepting new requests at this time) and my other WIPs.

WARNINGS: Lots of Teasing, Biting, Hair Pulling, Slight Praising Kink, Some Body Insecurity from Reader, Oral (Male Receiving), Fingering, Vaginal Sex (PinV),

WORD COUNT: 10.8k (I'm sorry, I swear I don't mean to keep writing these really long fics.)

TAGS: In comments.

Bradley knocked on your front door, the sound echoing through your small apartment. He glanced at his watch, shaking his head as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

“Hold on!” your voice called from inside.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he waited. When the door finally opened, he was greeted by the sight of you, barefoot, with one earring in and the other clutched in your hand.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bradley said, his eyebrows lifting as his gaze swept over you. “We’re already late, and you’re still not ready?”

You rolled your eyes and turned, leaving the door open as an invitation for him to come in. “Calm down, Bradshaw. We’ll make it in time for the midnight toast,” you shot back, your tone as breezy as ever.

He followed you inside, shutting the door behind him. “You said you’d be ready by nine. It’s nine-thirty.”

“And yet you’re still here, waiting for me like the loyal best friend you are,” you teased, flashing him a quick grin over your shoulder as you made your way back to your bedroom.

Bradley groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair as he trailed after you. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for you to catch.

“What was that?” you called from your room.

“Nothing.”

You laughed, stepping out into the hallway with a playful look in your eye. “That’s what I thought.”

Bradley leaned against the wall, watching as you carefully secured the second earring in place. His eyes softened for just a moment, taking in the sight of you. Even half-ready, with your hair still pinned up and no shoes in sight, you had a way of commanding his attention.

“What?” you asked, noticing the way he was looking at you.

“Nothing,” he said again, quickly masking the moment with a smirk. “I’m just trying to figure out how it takes someone this long to get dressed.”

“Perfection takes time, Bradshaw.”

“Perfection?” He scoffed. “You still have to put on your shoes. And your coat. And—”

“Zip me up,” you interrupted, holding the front of your dress to your chest as you turned your back to him.

Bradley froze for a split second, but you didn’t notice. Or maybe you did, and you were pretending not to. Either way, he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your shoulder blade as he grabbed the zipper.

The dress hugged your curves perfectly, and as he zipped it up, the soft lace of your underwear caught his eye. It was only a glimpse, but it was enough to send his mind spiraling into places he shouldn’t let it go—not with you.

“You okay back there?” you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

Bradley cleared his throat, tugging the zipper the rest of the way up with a little more force than necessary. “Yeah, just wondering how you manage to make me late every single time we go out.”

“Oh, please,” you said, spinning around to face him. “You love it.”

“Love it? No,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped back. “Tolerate it? Maybe.”

You grinned, patting his chest lightly as you brushed past him. Bradley followed you to the living room, where you grabbed your heels and slipped them on. He tried not to stare as you bent over to adjust the strap, but he failed miserably.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

You grabbed your coat and shot him a dazzling smile. “Ready.”

As the two of you headed out the door, Bradley couldn’t help but think about the night ahead—and how he was going to survive it without completely losing his mind.

* * * * *

The Hard Deck was already buzzing when you and Bradley walked through the door. Fairy lights strung around the rafters twinkled like stars, and the place was packed with people laughing, drinking, and gearing up for the New Year. Music pulsed through the speakers, and you could feel the energy in the air—a mix of excitement and anticipation.

“Looks like Penny went all out,” you said, glancing around.

“She always does,” Bradley replied, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on a familiar group in the corner.

The Dagger Squad was easy to spot, their loud laughter cutting through the din of the bar. Hangman was holding court, as usual, while Phoenix rolled her eyes at something he’d just said. Bob looked like he was doing his best to stay out of whatever argument was brewing, nursing his cup of peanuts with a small smile.

As you made your way over, the group’s attention shifted to the two of you.

“Bradshaw finally made it!” Hangman drawled, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin. “Thought you were gonna miss the countdown.”

“We would’ve been here earlier if someone didn’t take forever to get ready,” Bradley replied, shooting you a pointed look.

You gasped, feigning offense as you placed a hand over your chest. “Excuse me, I looked amazing when I walked out that door. You’re welcome.”

Hangman chuckled. “I’ll give her that, Bradshaw. She does look amazing.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened slightly, but he just shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get a drink.”

The two of you headed toward the bar, weaving through the crowd. Once there, you caught the bartender’s attention and ordered your usual. Turning to Bradley, you raised an eyebrow. “What about you? What’s your poison tonight?”

Bradley smirked, leaning one elbow on the bar as he looked down at you. “Nice try, but you’re not buying my drinks.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, brushing your hand against his arm playfully. “Consider it payback for making you wait earlier.”

Before he could respond, someone jostled their way up to the bar, bumping into you and sending you stumbling slightly into Bradley’s chest. Your hands instinctively went to his shoulders for balance, and your body pressed against his, the neckline of your dress dipping just enough to give him an up-close view of your cleavage.

“Sorry!” the stranger said, barely glancing your way as they waved down the bartender.

“No worries,” you replied, pulling back slightly—but not before noticing the way Bradley’s jaw had gone tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes lingered on you for a beat too long, flicking down to the neckline of your dress before quickly snapping back up to meet your gaze.

“Everything okay, Bradshaw?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“Fine,” he said shortly, though his voice was a little rougher than usual. He cleared his throat and glanced away, focusing on the bartender as he ordered his drink.

You couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that tugged at your lips. You knew you were getting to him, and the idea sent a thrill through you. Tonight was going to be fun.

You made your way back to the group with Bradley, your drink in hand and a playful smirk already forming on your lips. The moment Hangman saw you, his grin widened.

“Well, if it isn’t Bradshaw’s better half,” he drawled, leaning casually against the pool table. “Looking like you’re ready to steal the show tonight, sweetheart.”

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge on the arm. “Oh, stop it, Seresin. You’ll make me blush.”

Bradley, standing just behind you, rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the exchange. You didn’t miss it, of course, and it only fueled your determination.

“I’m just calling it like I see it,” Hangman continued, his signature cocky grin firmly in place. “Bradshaw, you’re gonna have to keep an eye on her tonight. Someone might just snatch her away.”

Bradley crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps straining slightly against the fabric of his shirt. “I think she can handle herself,” he said, his tone neutral but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you teased, turning your head to glance at Bradley over your shoulder. “You might need to keep a closer eye on me, Roo.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, his expression softened into something unreadable—a mixture of surprise and something deeper. He gave a small shake of his head, like he couldn’t believe you had the audacity to use that nickname here, in front of everyone.

“Roo?” Hangman’s voice cut in, dripping with mockery as he leaned casually against his pool cue. His grin was wide and wicked. “Oh, I like that. What do you think, Roo?”

Bradley shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. “Shut it, Bagman.”

Hangman chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension radiating off Bradley. “Tell you what,” he said, his attention turning back to you as he gestured toward the pool table. “Why don’t you break? Show us if you’ve got the skills to back up all that sass.”

You grinned, realizing this was your chance. “Gladly.”

As you stepped forward, you made sure to brush past Bradley, your chest grazing against his arm. You felt the solid heat of him through the thin fabric of your dress, and you bit back a triumphant smile when you noticed his sharp intake of breath.

“Excuse me,” you said softly, looking up at him with a feigned innocence that didn’t fool him for a second.

Bradley didn’t respond, but his jaw tightened, and his gaze followed you as you moved to the pool table.

You bent over to line up the break, feeling the hem of your dress creeping up your thighs as you adjusted your stance. You could practically feel Bradley’s eyes on you, and when you glanced back at him, he was staring, his expression a mixture of frustration and something darker.

“Sorry,” you said sweetly, tugging the hem of your dress down before turning your attention back to the game. You broke the rack with a satisfying crack, the balls scattering across the table. Standing up, you smoothed your dress and turned to find Bradley still watching you, his drink forgotten in his hand.

His expression was hard to read—annoyance, maybe, but there was something else there too. Something that made your stomach flip and your confidence soar.

Hangman gave a low whistle. “Not bad. Maybe we should let you and Bradshaw go head-to-head. What do you say, Bradshaw? Think you can handle her?”

Bradley’s eyes flicked to Hangman, then back to you. “Oh, I can handle her,” he said, his voice low and deliberate.

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, and as you leaned casually against the pool table, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Maybe your little plan was working after all.

Your next shot had you leaning over the table across from Bradley, the angle perfectly positioned to give him an unobstructed view of your cleavage. The neckline of your dress dipped dangerously low, and as you shifted slightly to line up the cue, he caught the unmistakable realization—you weren’t wearing a bra. His breath hitched, and the image of you in nothing but that lace he’d glimpsed earlier burned itself into his mind.

Bradley’s grip on his pool cue tightened as his body betrayed him. The denim of his jeans suddenly felt unforgiving, and he shifted his stance in an effort to find some relief.

Focus, Bradshaw. This is her. You can’t go there. You won’t go there.

But then there was Hangman. Of course, there was Hangman. Jake’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing—not the slight adjustment Bradley made, not the tension in his jaw, and definitely not the way your lips curved into a subtle smile as you straightened up after your shot.

“Gotta hand it to her,” Jake muttered under his breath as he leaned closer to Bradley, his voice low enough that only he could hear. “She’s got you on a leash tonight, Roo.” Bradley’s glare shot to Jake like a warning missile, but Jake, ever the instigator, just grinned wider. “What’s the matter, Bradshaw? Gonna let her get away with that?”

“Shut it, Bagman,” Bradley bit out, his voice tight, but the heat rising in his chest had little to do with Jake’s teasing and everything to do with the mental image of you.

Jake leaned closer, his tone dropping just enough to needle deeper. “You should make a move before someone else does.” He nodded toward the bar where a few other Navy men had started to take notice of you. One, in particular, seemed a little too interested, his gaze lingering on you as you lined up your next shot.

The thought had Bradley’s blood boiling. The Daggers all knew you were off-limits, even if there was no official claim—Bradley’s quiet, unwavering presence around you made that abundantly clear.

But the other men in the bar didn’t have that same understanding. They didn’t know that you were his, even if neither of you had ever said it out loud.

He glanced back at you, your focus on the table as you leaned over again, the hem of your dress riding up just slightly, showing a tempting glimpse of your thighs. You were playing with fire tonight, and Bradley was caught somewhere between wanting to stop you and wanting to let himself get burned.

Jake chuckled again, leaning closer as you shifted slightly, your hips swaying just enough to draw attention. He turned his head toward Bradley, his smirk sharp as a blade. “She’s practically begging for it,” Jake said, his tone low and knowing.

Bradley’s jaw ticked, his grip on the pool cue tightening to the point of splintering.

“Bagman,” he warned, his voice like gravel, but Jake just grinned and backed away, clearly enjoying the show.

After your next turn, you made your way over to Bradley, holding up your now-empty glass with a teasing grin.

“Looks like I’m out,” you said, tipping the glass slightly before glancing at the drink in his hand. “Mind if I have some of yours?”

Bradley barely had time to respond before you leaned in, wrapping your lips around his straw, your eyes locked on his as you took a slow sip. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on him—or anyone else. His fingers tightened around the glass, his knuckles whitening, as he watched you pull back with a soft hum of approval.

“Not bad, Roo,” you murmured, your voice low, your tone deliberate. Filled with just enough liquid courage, you leaned in closer, the faint scent of your perfume intoxicating him. “You seem a little tense tonight. Maybe you should let loose. It is New Year’s Eve, after all.”

Bradley’s jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, your words sending a ripple of heat through him. Before he could respond, Jake, who had been lingering nearby, couldn’t resist jumping into the moment.

“Gotta say, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his signature smirk firmly in place. “She’s got a point. You do look a little… wound up tonight.”

Bradley turned his head sharply toward Jake, his gaze already simmering with annoyance. But Jake wasn’t done.

He leaned casually against the edge of the table, his cocky grin widening. “Tell you what, Roo. If you’re ready to call it a night, I’ll make sure she gets her midnight kiss. And I’ll even get her home safe and sound for you.”

The comment was like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. Bradley’s glare could have leveled a lesser man, but Jake didn’t even flinch. If anything, he seemed to thrive on the reaction, his grin practically splitting his face.

“Bagman,” Bradley said, his voice dangerously low, the single word carrying a warning that even Jake couldn’t completely ignore.

But Jake, being Jake, wasn’t about to back down. “What?” he said, feigning innocence as he straightened up. “Just being a gentleman. Someone’s gotta make sure she gets what she wants tonight, and if you’re not gonna step up…”

“Jake.” This time, the word was more growl than name, and Jake raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Relax, Bradshaw,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” His tone softened slightly, just enough that only Bradley could hear. “You’ve been watching her all night like she’s the last drink on Earth. Either you go for that first sip, or someone else will.”

Bradley’s grip on his glass tightened as Jake’s words settled over him. He glanced back at you, now chatting with Phoenix across the table, your laughter cutting through the noise of the bar. The sight of you—carefree, radiant, and completely unaware of the effect you had on him—was almost too much to bear.

Jake clapped him on the shoulder as if he’d just passed on sage advice, the smug look still firmly in place. “Tick tock, Bradshaw,” he said before sauntering off, leaving Bradley alone with his thoughts—and the growing need to finally make his move.

As the night wore on and the clock inched closer to midnight, you found your excitement for the new year tempered by a growing sense of disappointment. You had spent the evening trying to send Bradley every signal short of spelling it out for him, but he still hadn’t made a move.

You thought you’d been obvious enough. The lingering glances, the teasing touches, the way you’d leaned into him at every opportunity—surely, he’d noticed. Unless... he had noticed and simply wasn’t interested.

The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest, leaving a bitter taste behind. You let your gaze wander to where Bradley stood across the room, laughing at something Coyote had said. His smile lit up his face, and for a moment, you forgot all about your doubts.

But then reality came crashing back in. If he wanted you, wouldn’t he have done something by now? Anything? You let out a quiet sigh, suddenly feeling foolish for playing this little game in the first place. Maybe you’d read too much into the way his eyes lingered on you earlier, or maybe you were just another friend to him.

“Excuse me,” you said softly to Phoenix, forcing a polite smile as you stepped away from the conversation.

Phoenix’s brow furrowed as she watched you leave, and then her sharp gaze turned on Bradley. She didn’t bother to hide the glare she shot his way, the kind that could stop a grown man in his tracks.

Bradley caught her expression from across the room and froze, confused. He looked around as if trying to figure out what he’d done to deserve the silent scolding. Then, realizing she was glaring at him, he held up his hands in surrender, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. “What?” he mouthed, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Phoenix just rolled her eyes and shook her head, muttering something under her breath that Bradley couldn’t hear. But the message was clear enough: You’re an idiot, Bradshaw.

Meanwhile, you slipped through the crowd toward the bathroom, weaving between groups of sailors and couples who were already paired off for the midnight kiss. You kept your head down, trying to ignore the sting of disappointment that had settled in your chest. It wasn’t like you had any right to expect something from Bradley—he’d never promised you anything, after all.

But still... you couldn’t help but hope.

“Damn it, Bradshaw, what the hell are you waiting for?” Jake's voice came from beside him, sharp with that familiar edge of cockiness that always seemed to get under Bradley’s skin.

He barely had time to register the words before another voice broke through the noise. A pilot—someone Bradley didn’t recognize, but who had clearly been eyeing you for most of the night—made his way over to the Dagger Squad. He was tall, his uniform crisp and pressed, his eyes glinting with that familiar military arrogance.

He looked at Bradley first, then turned to Jake, as if seeking approval. It rubbed Bradley wrong that this guy was asking Jake for permission about you. As if Jake knew anything about you.

“Hey, your little friend” the guy began, voice low but loud enough for Bradley and Jake to hear, “is she single, or is she here with someone tonight?”

Bradley’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly the type of guy this was—another one of those cocky assholes who thought every woman in a bar was fair game. And though Bradley didn't have any kind of claim on you outside of being your best friend, the thought of this guy making a move on you had his blood starting to boil.

You, with your teasing smile, your soft laugh, the way you leaned in when you spoke. You weren’t some conquest for a guy to pick off at a bar. You weren’t anyone’s plaything, and the idea of this particular pilot thinking he could just waltz in and take what he wanted had Bradley seeing red.

Hell, if it had to be someone else tonight, he’d almost rather it be Jake. At least Jake—underneath all that infuriating cockiness—had some redeeming qualities. For one, he’d treat you with more respect than you’d probably give him credit for. And while it killed Bradley to admit it, he trusted Jake to care for you, in his own strange way.

But this guy? He looked like the type who thought a quick smirk and some half-baked compliments were enough to seal the deal. The type who’d be selfish in bed, thinking more about what he could get than what he could give. And you deserved better—so much better. Bradley could feel his fists clenching at his sides. The last thing he wanted was to see this asshole anywhere near you, let alone trying to charm his way into your night, your bed, your life.

You’re not going to be mine tonight, Bradley thought. But that didn’t mean you were anyone else’s either.

“Yeah, she’s single,” Bradley bit out, his voice tight, unwilling to look the guy in the eye as he made his response.

The pilot gave him a slight, almost dismissive nod, and with a grin that said he knew he had a shot, he turned to walk away, shooting Bradley one last look. “Well, I’ll go make sure she has a good time. Maybe a New Year’s kiss, if she’s lucky.”

Bradley’s blood boiled. The thought of that cocky bastard putting his hands on you had him feeling... nauseous. Protective. Territorial. It made his entire body tense with something darker than jealousy. He wanted to go after him, pull the guy away from you, and tell him to back the hell off. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not like this.

Jake, always the instigator, seemed to sense the shift in Bradley’s mood. He leaned in, his voice low but with that unmistakable smirk he always wore when he knew he was about to push someone’s buttons.

“You’ve got until the time she gets back to make up your mind, Bradshaw,” Jake said, his voice quiet enough for only Bradley to hear, but the challenge was unmistakable. “Because if you don’t, you’re gonna have to watch Badger take her home tonight.”

Bradley felt like his heart had stopped. Badger. That was the pilot’s call sign. A cocky asshole with a reputation for going after whatever—or whoever—he wanted.

His eyes flicked to the bathroom, where you had disappeared moments before. The thought of you with anyone else, especially Badger, was enough to light a fire inside him that he couldn’t control.

No. You weren’t going home with Badger. You were going home with him.

Bradley’s hands tightened into fists. He felt like he was running out of time, and with each passing second, the overwhelming sense that if he didn’t act, he was going to lose you to someone else, ate at him from the inside out.

“Go make your move, Bradshaw,” Jake muttered, clearly loving every second of it.

Bradley didn’t need any more prompting. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the bathroom, where he would make sure that no one, especially not some arrogant pilot, would ever think they had a chance with you.

You had just finished washing your hands in the bathroom when the familiar hum of the bar’s noise drifted into your ears, signaling the impending chaos of the New Year’s Eve countdown. As you walked out, still feeling the buzz from the drinks you’d had, you spotted him.

Bradley was standing near the hallway, leaning casually against the wall just beyond the restroom door, his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the crowd. His gaze locked with yours the moment you stepped into the hallway, and for a brief second, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding.

You blinked, confused by the sight of him waiting there. His posture was relaxed, but the tension in his jaw told another story. "Bradley?" you asked, the question clear in your tone.

Without answering verbally, Bradley took your hand in his, his grip firm but not too tight. He didn’t say anything as he led you back towards the bar, the movement smooth, like he’d planned it all along.

As you passed by Badger, who was leaning on the bar with a few other pilots, you felt Bradley’s arm slip around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The weight of his arm was a strange comfort, like it had always been meant to be there.

You looked up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion, but the way he kept his eyes forward, focused, made you hesitate in questioning him further. Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt natural, like you had been doing it for years, and the warmth radiating from him was something you had been craving all night.

It was the first time he’d really touched you all night—actually touched you. And it was enough to make your stomach flip. You had been dropping hints, but it had seemed like Bradley was ignoring them or maybe just didn’t see them at all. But this? This felt like a shift.

His hand remained on your shoulder, his thumb lightly grazing the skin beneath the fabric of your dress, sending small sparks of heat through you. The sensation was electric, and you tried to focus on the moment, on the conversation happening around you, but all you could feel was the proximity between you and him.

You could feel his breath on the top of your head, his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, and for the first time that night, you allowed yourself to just breathe, to let the closeness sink in without overthinking it.

The others at the bar didn't seem to notice the subtle change between you two, too absorbed in their own chatter. But Bradley’s arm remained firmly around your shoulders, and for some reason, it felt like the kind of touch that meant more than just friendship. It was an anchor, a reassurance, and in that moment, it made everything feel a little bit clearer.

As the two of you approached the corner of the bar where the Dagger Squad was gathered, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you and Bradley. And whether it was the warmth of his touch or the way he had looked at you when you first came out of the bathroom, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t mind. You were no longer playing a game. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to finally make the next move.

As the crowd around you began to count down, the energy in the bar reached a fever pitch. The room pulsed with excitement, people laughing, clinking glasses, and shouting over one another in anticipation. You could feel Bradley’s grip on your shoulders tighten as he turned to face you, the noise of the room fading into a distant hum. The look in his eyes was intense—unwavering, but something new simmered beneath the surface.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty that was completely uncharacteristic for him.

You felt your heart race, the breath hitching in your throat as you looked at him. His hands were resting lightly on your shoulders, but you could feel the tension in them. He was holding back, but you weren’t going to make him wait anymore.

A slow smile spread across your face as you stepped closer, closing the distance between you two. “Yeah,” you whispered, the word barely escaping you, but it felt like the only thing that needed to be said.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling the solid, familiar weight of him under your fingertips. His hands slid to your waist, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to pull you into him, but there was still something restrained in his movements. His lips parted slightly, as though he were waiting for something, for the perfect moment.

The countdown continued in the background, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you—the way his body was so close, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the electric charge between you two that had been building for what felt like ages.

You smiled again, the excitement of the crowd around you fading. This was it. The moment where everything changed.

When the final "One!" rang out, echoing through the bar, the bell above the bar ringing sharply in time with the cheer, Bradley wasted no more time. 

His lips crashed to yours in a kiss that was everything you'd imagined but so much more—passionate, but still restrained. His hands were firm on your waist, like he was holding onto something that threatened to break loose.

For a moment, everything stopped. There was no noise, no countdown, no rowdy crowd—just the heat of his kiss, the soft press of his lips against yours, the soft, subtle pressure of his body against yours.

And then, slowly, it changed.

Bradley slid one hand from your waist to the small of your back, his grip tightening as he pulled you against him. His other hand slid up your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, tugging you closer as he deepened the kiss. The world around you blurred. His mouth moved over yours with a fervor that made your knees weak.

You felt everything in that moment—everything you had been holding back, every hint you’d dropped, every flirtatious moment now coming to fruition. His body was pressed into yours, his chest firm against your breasts, the hardness of him unmistakable. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and it made your pulse race.

Somewhere nearby, you heard whistles and catcalls, but they barely registered in your mind. The only thing that mattered was him, and the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you so tight as though he couldn’t get enough. It was messy, and deep, and long—definitely longer than a midnight kiss should be. But you didn’t care. Neither did he.

Bradley’s hands slid lower, gripping your hips as his lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, and you melted into him. The sound of the bar faded into background noise, as if you were the only two people in the room. His touch was a promise, a shift from the playful banter to something far more intense.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his eyes darkened with desire. "Happy New Year," he murmured against your lips, and the words sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t respond. There was no need.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked, the question carrying an undertone of something more—something you were both hesitant to put into words.

You smiled, a soft but knowing smile, and nodded without hesitation. You weren’t about to let this moment slip away. Not now, not after everything that had happened tonight.

Bradley’s hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours as if he couldn’t let go. With a small tug, he gently guided you away from the crowded bar. You exchanged quiet goodbyes with the rest of the group, the lingering tension between you and Bradley palpable to anyone who might have been watching. You didn’t care.

When you reached the door, Bradley’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soft, reassuring gesture. The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, the noise of the bar fading behind you, and it was as if you were in your own world now, just the two of you.

Bradley didn’t say anything else as he led you down the street, the sounds of the city muffled around you. His hand was still holding yours, but you could feel the tension there, like a spring wound too tight. You both knew what was coming next. And you both knew you couldn’t go back. Not after tonight.

* * * * *

The car came to a slow stop in front of your place, the engine cutting out, but the tension between you and Bradley seemed to hum louder than anything else in the night. He didn’t say a word as he turned off the ignition, but there was a shift in the air—a palpable shift that made every part of you tense in anticipation.

As you stepped out of the car, Bradley was already there, waiting for you. His hand slid to your waist, a familiar touch that sent a spark of electricity through you. You walked side by side, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps echoing in the quiet street. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but when you reached your front door, you could feel Bradley’s presence behind you, close and solid, almost like a magnet.

You fumbled with your keys for a second, your fingers shaking as you tried to unlock the door. But Bradley’s hands were already on you—his fingers pressing lightly into your hips, pulling you against him. His warmth radiated into your back, and when you felt the brush of his breath against your neck, your body responded, every inch of you on edge.

His lips found your neck, and you gasped, the sound escaping before you could stop it. “B-Bradley,” you whispered, voice shaking. But instead of pulling away or slowing down, he just hummed in response, the vibration of his chest against your back sending a wave of heat through you.

Finally, you managed to get the key in the lock, and as you opened the door, Bradley’s hands never left you. He followed you inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet click. And then, before you could even react, he pressed you against the door, your back meeting the cool surface with a sharp contrast to the heat of his body.

As Bradley presses you against the door, the heat between you both intensifies. You feel his hands slide down your sides, caressing your curves with a possessive yet gentle touch. The way he brushes his fingers over your skin has your breath catching in your throat, but you can’t help the soft gasp that slips past your lips as he presses his body fully against yours. His lips find your neck again, and this time, it feels different—more demanding, almost desperate.

You tilt your head back to give him more access, and the soft moan that escapes you seems to urge him on. His teeth graze your skin lightly, teasing but just enough to send a jolt through your core. 

Bradley shifted, his leg sliding between yours, pressing firmly against your core. The feeling makes you instinctively move closer to him, your hips pressing down onto his jean clad thigh. He moves his leg slightly and the friction of the denim against your core sends another wave of heat coursing through you. You bite your lip to keep the sound from escaping, but it’s useless. He hears it, feels it, and he responds with a low growl.

“God, you’re already so responsive,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as he presses another slow, deliberate kiss along your neck. His hands travel lower, brushing against your waist before they curve possessively over your hips, pulling you even closer. The way you react to his touch, the way your body seems to melt under his hands, drives him wild. It makes him crave more—more of you, more of this.

His lips trail lower, and he pauses at the curve of your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. You shiver, and Bradley’s eyes darken as he watches the way your body responds to him. You don’t even have to speak; every movement you make, every tiny sound you let out, is enough. Your body is practically begging for more, and he’s more than willing to give it to you.

When his hands slip beneath the hem of your dress, you gasp as his fingers graze the soft skin of your thighs. The sensation makes you arch into him, and you hear him chuckle, a low, wicked sound that sends a thrill down your spine.

“You can’t help it, can you?” he murmurs, his lips hovering near yours as he catches your gaze. “Every touch, every kiss—you’re already losing control.”

You swallow hard, the heat in your core intensifying with his words. It’s as if he knows exactly what’s happening inside you, the way your body reacts to his every move. His confidence only fuels the fire inside you, and you find yourself growing bolder, more eager.

“Bradley…” you whisper, your voice breathless, your body trembling as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s no mistaking the desire burning in them.

“Say my name again,” he commands, his voice rough with the same need you feel.

As you do, the sound of your voice saying his name sends a jolt through him, and he kisses you harder, deeper, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, feel how desperately he wants this too.

As his lips return to yours in a heated kiss, he shifts. Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly, his strong arms moving to your butt to support your weight. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the hard planes of his body press against you in a way that makes your heart race. His hands slide lower, gripping your thighs as your arms circle around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him, unable to get enough of the kiss, of him.

In one smooth movement, he begins to walk down the hallway, carrying you with ease as if you weigh nothing at all. Your body shudders against his, and you can’t help but let out a soft moan as you feel his strength, the way he holds you so easily, and the way his lips never leave yours. The heat between you both intensifies with every step he takes toward the bedroom.

You feel his lips trail down to your jaw, the kiss turning more desperate, more demanding as he moves you down the hall. Your breath hitches with every step he takes, and the way his body presses so tightly against yours sends jolts of electricity through you. The thought of what’s to come, the anticipation of being alone together in your room, makes your pulse quicken.

He finally reaches the bedroom door, his hands expertly maneuvering to open it, never breaking the kiss, his breath hot against your lips. He kicks the door open with his foot, not caring that the room is still dimly lit. It’s all about you, and him, and the way you make him lose control.

Once inside, he doesn’t stop. With a low growl, he walks you to the bed, his lips crashing against yours again, the kiss filled with urgency now, as if every second apart from you has only made him want you more. His hands roam, pulling you even closer, never once letting you go as he carefully lays you down on the bed, hovering over you, his lips never straying far from yours.

Your body aches with the anticipation, with the desire that’s been building up since the first touch. You look up at him, feeling the heat of his gaze on you, and there’s no mistaking what he wants now—what you both want.

As Bradley hovers over you, his lips still trailing kisses down your neck, he pulls back for just a second, his gaze dark and intense. His hands grip the hem of your dress and, with a deliberate slowness, he pushes it up over your thighs, exposing the delicate lace of your underwear that you had tried so carefully to hide earlier. His breath hitches when his fingers brush over the fabric, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

You feel the heat of his gaze on you, the way he takes in the sight of you beneath him. The anticipation builds, each second more deliciously tormenting than the last. His hand trails over the lace, a teasing touch that sends a shiver of desire down your spine.

"Who’d you wear these for?" His voice is low, almost a growl, and there's a certain edge to it as his fingers lightly trace the intricate pattern of the lace. "Did you wear these for me?"

A mischievous smirk curves your lips, and you feel a rush of playful confidence. Without missing a beat, you respond, “I wore them for Hangman.”

Bradley’s eyes flare with heat, the playful challenge in your words igniting something dangerous in him. For a moment, his gaze hardens, the air between you thick with tension, but then his lips twitch upward into a knowing smirk.

His hand finds your hair, fingers wrapping around a lock, and before you can brace yourself, he tugs your head back, exposing your neck to him. You gasp at the suddenness of the movement, but it only fuels the fire between you. His breath is hot against your skin as he leans in, his voice a low growl.

“Lying to me?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it. “That’s not very nice.”

You shiver in response, his control making your pulse race. Bradley’s grip tightens slightly, urging you to tell him the truth.

“Tell me the truth,” he demands, his voice hushed, almost a plea.

You bite your lip, giving in to the weight of his gaze, and you feel the heat of the moment wash over you. “You,” you finally admit, your voice breathy with desire. “I wore them for you.”

"Good girl,” he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers it. 

The praise hits you like a spark, and without even thinking, you find yourself responding, your breath catching as the words sink in. Your body seems to crave it, to crave his approval. The reaction is immediate, instinctual.

Bradley’s eyes flash with satisfaction, and the realization hits him—there’s something there. He watches you closely, a dark glint in his eyes as he leans in, lips brushing against your ear. “You like being praised, don’t you?” he teases, his voice soft but filled with a knowing edge.

Before you can respond, he tries again, testing you. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin.

The reaction is instant, your pulse quickening, a soft gasp escaping you. The tension in the room builds, thick with anticipation, and Bradley smirks as he feels you respond to his words.

He leans in even closer, his breath hot against your neck, and whispers with a possessive edge, “Are you going to be my good girl tonight?”

Your heart races at the question, the weight of his words hanging in the air. The heat between you both becomes undeniable, and you find yourself breathless, wanting nothing more than to please him.

As Bradley’s hands slide down your sides and grab the bottom of your dress, starting to push it up, he notices the way your eyes flicker with a hint of hesitation. There’s a subtle tension in your posture - like you’re unsure whether to let go completely.

His hands hover over your bare skin for a moment, as if waiting for permission to continue. He looks up at you, his gaze searching, and his voice drops lower, full of concern.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, his words gentle but insistent.

As Bradley hovers above you, you feel a wave of self-consciousness creeping in. The way he's looking at you, so focused and intent, only seems to make your insecurities more prominent. You swallow, opening your mouth to speak, but the words don’t quite come out the way you intend.

"I know I'm not..." you trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence, the knot of doubt tightening in your stomach.

Bradley immediately notices the shift in your tone. He pauses, searching your face for any signs of discomfort, and gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your skin. 

"You’re not what?" he asks, his voice soft but insistent, wanting to understand.

You hesitate for a moment longer, the insecurity bubbling up. You don’t want to admit it, but it feels almost impossible to ignore. You shake your head, looking away for a brief second.

Bradley’s fingers tilt your chin up, guiding your gaze back to him, and his eyes are filled with nothing but warmth.

"Hey, look at me." His voice is gentle but firm, grounding you. "I need you to hear me, okay? You are perfect just the way you are." His words sink deep, like a balm for your unease.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and his lips whisper against your skin, "You're beautiful, every part of you. Don’t ever think you’re anything less than that."

The sincerity in his voice is like a switch flipping inside you, and all of a sudden, the tension that had been tight in your chest begins to ease. Bradley’s hands trail slowly down your arms, holding you gently, like he’s never seen anything more perfect. You feel the words settle inside you—his belief in you, his reassurance. You let out a shaky breath, your insecurities fading into the background as you focus on him.

As Bradley’s gaze lingers on you, his hands hovering above your skin, you feel a rush of emotion flood through you. You don’t want to wait any longer. Your hands reach for him, drawing him closer. Without thinking, you pull him in for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, as if the two of you are syncing to the same rhythm, finally on the same wavelength.

Your hands, emboldened by the closeness, move to the bottom of his shirt, fingers brushing over the soft fabric, eager to feel more of him. You start to tug the hem upward, wanting to bring him even closer, your body yearning for his touch.

But then, before you can pull the shirt off entirely, Bradley breaks the kiss, his hands gently stopping yours. He pulls back slightly, his face a mix of concern and tenderness. 

"Hey," he murmurs softly, his voice full of care, "I need to make sure you’re still sure. Do you want this? Want me?"

His eyes search yours, silently asking for reassurance, his hands still hovering near yours, giving you control over the next move. There’s no pressure, just a calm, deliberate check-in, ensuring you're comfortable with everything, ready to take the next step.

You pause for a moment, your breath quickening, but you meet Bradley’s eyes with unwavering certainty. You reach up, cupping his face gently, the slight tremble in your hand betraying the intensity of the moment.

“I want this,” you whisper, your voice steady but filled with the anticipation you feel running through every inch of you. “I want you, Bradley. I’m sure.”

Bradley’s expression softens, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and before you can say anything else, he leans in, kissing you again—deeply, passionately—as if he’s been waiting for this moment as much as you have. 

Bradley’s hands hover at the hem of your dress, the fabric soft under his touch. With a slow, deliberate motion, Bradley lifts the dress up, the fabric sliding over your skin, inch by inch. As it moves, you feel exposed—more than just physically, but emotionally. It’s a vulnerable moment, your body bare in front of him, and yet there’s no hesitation in your heart. With Bradley, it feels like this is exactly where you’re meant to be. Every touch, every look, tells you that he sees you, not just your body, but you—and you trust him with that, completely.

The dress is now fully off, discarded somewhere in the room, leaving you in just your lace underwear. You instinctively cross your arms over your chest, a momentary flicker of self-consciousness creeping in, but before it can fully settle, Bradley leans closer.

He doesn’t push you to drop your hands, but gently, he takes them in his, guiding your arms down, his touch soft but firm—reassuring. He gazes at you with an expression that’s both tender and hungry, as if he’s memorizing every curve, every line of your body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost reverent. “I don’t think you realize just how perfect you are.”

You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you truly believe it. His words sink in, melting away the doubt and insecurity that had been lingering in your mind.

Bradley leans in, kissing you softly, the touch tender, almost as if asking you to let go. His hands move to your waist, his fingers brushing your skin as if testing the waters. 

“You trust me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

You nod, your lips brushing his as you breathe out a soft, “I trust you.”

With a slow, steady movement, he runs his hands down your sides, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. He’s not rushing; there’s no urgency, just a deep, shared connection that makes everything feel so much more meaningful than it would have with anyone else. You’ve never felt so open, so vulnerable—and yet with him, you don’t feel exposed. You feel seen.

You reach for Bradley’s shirt again, your hands moving with a sense of purpose as you start to lift it up, eager to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. The moment your hands brush against the fabric, Bradley pauses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes darken with something playful, a spark of desire flickering in them.

“You’re impatient,” he teases, leaning back just slightly and lifting his arms, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head. It’s like he’s daring you, challenging you to take what you want. His smirk deepens as the shirt finally slips off, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and abs, his skin slightly flushed under your gaze.

Your hands immediately move, running down his chest, feeling the firm lines of his muscles under your touch. There’s no hiding the way your eyes follow the path of your hands—tracing his abs, the small dip of his waist, the strength in his body. Every inch of him seems to pull you closer, your fingers brushing the contours of his body as you trace every detail.

Bradley watches you, his eyes softening with a mix of amusement and desire. “Like what you see?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

You don't even try to hide it. Your gaze flickers back to his, a small, confident smirk of your own playing at the corners of your lips. “Yeah,” you breathe, “I do.”

He chuckles softly, but there's no mistaking the heat in his eyes. “Good,” he says, his voice steady but full of promise. “Cause you’ve got all of me, baby.”

You’re not sure what it is about the way he says it—something about the confidence, the calm in his voice—but it drives you even further. Without breaking eye contact, your hands slide lower, feeling the taut muscles of his stomach, the warmth of his skin. You don’t have to say anything more; the desire between you both is palpable, and you can feel how he’s enjoying your touch as much as you are enjoying his.

As Bradley pulled away for a moment, he looked down at you, his gaze soft but intense. He moved his hands to your waist, gently brushing his finger along your skin. His fingers hooked into the top of the lace panties still covering you, and he slid them down your legs with a careful yet deliberate touch. 

He then grabbed one of your hands, pulling you up into a sitting position as he guided your hand to the top of his jeans, silently asking you to help him. You popped the button open on his jeans and then tugged the zipper down. You then shoved the fabric down his legs, letting it pool around his ankles.

You then reached up, your hand sliding into the top of his boxer briefs, your fingers wrapping around him. You heard him let out a breath and looked up at him as you watched his head fall back and his eyes close. “F-fuck, baby.” He breathed out.

You smirked to yourself and then shuffled off the bed, and onto your knees on the carpet in front of him. You pushed his boxers down, pulling him out and then leaned in to wrap your lips around him.

“S-shit.” He mutters as you lean in and lip the precum from his tip before you started to take more of him into your mouth.

One of his hands move to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you bob on him a few times. You then pull your mouth off of him and lick up the underside of his shaft, along the vein that’s protruding.

“Th-that…just like that.” He groans, and you smile to yourself, loving the reactions you’re getting from him before you wrap your lips around him again. 

You bob a few more times, each time taking a little more of him into your mouth. You feel his fingers start to tug on your hair and his thighs start to tremble slightly.

You reach up and run your hands down his thighs, your nails digging ever so slightly into his skin causing him to hiss. You then wrap your hand around the bottom part of his shaft, squeezing and moving it in rhythm with your mouth as you feel him starting to twitch in your mouth.

He loosens his grip on your hair and instead gathers the hair into a loose, messy ponytail with his fist to get a better view of your face and mouth. 

He thrusts a few more times until you hear him mutter a “f-fuck” and then his hips still, pushing himself all the way into your mouth as you feel the ropes of cum hit the back of your tongue.

Bradley took a step back, his breathing still heavy as he came down from his release. Bradley’s hands are gentle yet firm as he pulls you to your feet, his fingers brushing over your skin.

His eyes meet yours, and the intensity there makes your breath catch in your throat. Without a word, he guides you back to the bed, his movements deliberate and unhurried, like he’s savoring every moment.

As he helps you settle against the sheets, his hands slide down your legs, spreading them apart with a tender care that sends a shiver racing up your spine. His gaze flickers to yours, checking in with silent but unmistakable intent. The way he looks at you—a mix of devotion and desire—makes your chest tighten in the best way.

But just as he begins to lower himself, you instinctively reach out, your hand brushing against his arm. 

“Bradley, wait,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly—not from fear but from the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through you.

He stops immediately, his brows knitting together as his eyes search yours. “What is it?” he asks softly, his voice low and rough, but tinged with concern. “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “No, I just... I just want you,” you admit, your voice barely audible but filled with honesty. “I need you, Bradley.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his lips curving into a slow, understanding smile. “Anything you want.”

Bradley's smile softens as he leans over you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s both reassuring and electric. His hands roam your sides, grounding you as his touch sends ripples of warmth through your body. He pauses, his forehead resting gently against yours.

"I need to make sure you're ready," he murmurs, his voice laced with care and restraint despite the heat in his gaze.

He reaches down and slides a finger up your slit before inserting a finger. You let out a soft, impatient sigh, your hands gripping his shoulders as you shift beneath him.

“Bradley, I’m ready,” you insist, your voice steady but tinged with urgency. “I’ve been ready.”

He chuckles low in his chest, the sound rumbling through you. His lips brush your cheek, then your ear, as he murmurs, "Easy, sweetheart. I want you to enjoy this.”

The tenderness in his tone makes your heart ache in the best way, but it doesn’t quell the fire coursing through you. He slides a second finger inside you and starts to pump them in an out of you, before he slides a third one in.

Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck as you tilt your hips up toward him, your movements deliberate and unspoken proof of your eagerness. His breath hitches slightly, and he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression soft but full of amusement. 

"You’re something else, you know that?" he teases, his grin crooked as his thumb brushes over your cheek.

"Then stop stalling," you counter with a small, defiant smirk, your voice playful despite the longing in your eyes.

His grin widens, and he shakes his head, his laughter quiet but full of affection. "Impatient, huh?" he says, his tone teasing but laced with promise.

Bradley shifts above you, his playful smirk fading into something softer, more serious. He leans down, brushing a tender kiss against your lips before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His hand cups your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin, and you can see the slight hesitation flicker in his eyes.

"Wait," he says gently, his voice low but steady. "What about protection?"

You blink, his question pulling you from the haze of your desire. 

He seems almost sheepish as he adds, "I didn’t bring anything. I wasn’t exactly expecting this."

Your lips curve into a small smile, and you nod toward the dresser behind him. "Top drawer," you say softly. "I think there’s some in there."

He glances back briefly, his brow lifting in mild amusement. "You think?"

"It’s been awhile, it’s not something I normally keep on my weekly grocery list.” You pause for a moment before continuing. “But if not…I’m on birth control, and I was clean at my last physical and I haven’t been with anyone since."

"Still," he says after a moment, his voice warm but resolute, "let’s check, just to be safe."

He leans over, reaching for the dresser, and you take the opportunity to let your hands glide along his back, feeling the taut muscles shift under your touch. When he opens the drawer and finds what he’s looking for, he holds it up with a grin.

"Got it," he says, his tone lightening, though the look he gives you as he turns back is anything but.

He positioned himself between your hips as he slid the condom onto his length. He looked up at you, almost as if silently making sure you wanted this. And once you nodded in confirmation he started to push the tip inside of you.

Bradley's movements are slow, deliberate, but as he shifts, you can’t help the soft hiss of discomfort that escapes your lips. His entire body stills immediately, and his head snaps up to meet your gaze. His brows knit together, concern darkening his features.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice laced with worry. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head quickly, not wanting him to feel guilty, but the way his eyes search your face tells you he’s not convinced.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice trembling slightly. “I just need a second.”

He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if to reassure you. “Take all the time you need,” he whispers, his tone steady but full of care.

His hands stroke soothing paths along your sides, grounding you, while his gaze never wavers from yours. “You tell me if it’s too much,” he adds, his voice softer now but resolute. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nod, your hand reaching up to brush his cheek. “I’m okay,” you say again, this time with more conviction. “I promise.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over your hip as if silently asking for permission to continue. When you give him a small smile and a nod, he leans in to kiss you again, the tenderness in his actions a clear reminder that his focus is entirely on you.

His hips soon find a steady random as he pushed into you and then pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in. It didn’t take long, maybe a minute or two, until the pain faded completely and you started to feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

You can feel the change in him too, the way his body tenses beneath your touch. His breathing grows heavier, more ragged, and his movements falter just slightly as he draws closer to the edge. Your eyes drift down, catching the way his stomach tightens, the subtle ripple of muscles contracting involuntarily. It’s mesmerizing—the sheer vulnerability of it, the way his body responds to you so completely.

When you look back up at him, his jaw is clenched, his brows drawn together, and yet his gaze still finds yours. In that moment, he looks utterly undone, and it sends a shiver through you.

“I’m-”

“Me too,” he breathed out as you felt his grip on your hip tighten. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

And that’s all it takes. Your head rolls back and your eyes close as your back arches off the ground. Bradley’s grip on your hips tighten, holding you in place, just a second before his hips still and he releases into the condom.

Bradley collapses onto the bed beside you, half-draped over your body, his head resting near your shoulder as his arm instinctively wraps around your waist. His chest rises and falls against yours, both of you struggling to catch your breath as the quiet of the room wraps around you. The light sheen of sweat on his skin glistens faintly in the dim light, and the warmth of his body grounding you in the moment.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both too caught up in the aftermath, the unspoken emotions swirling between you. Bradley presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there as if to remind you he’s still close, still here.

“You okay?” he murmurs finally, his voice hoarse but full of genuine concern. His hand brushes over your side, tender and careful, as if he’s checking for any signs of discomfort.

You nod, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

Bradley smiles back, his eyes softening. “Good,” he says, his thumb now tracing slow, soothing circles on your hip. “Because that...was amazing.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, your chest shaking with the sound. “Yeah, it was,” you agree, your fingers idly trailing down the length of his arm as you let the moment settle between you.

After a moment, he shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you more fully. His free hand reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “You’re incredible,” he says softly, his voice carrying a depth of sincerity that makes your cheeks flush.

You don’t know how to respond, so you lean up just enough to press a kiss to his jaw. “So are you,” you manage, and it’s true. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters to him, that makes your chest tighten with a mix of affection and vulnerability.

He grins at your words, but it’s not his usual cocky grin—it’s softer, almost bashful. “I should grab us some water,” he says, even though he doesn’t make any move to leave your side.

“Or we could just stay like this,” you suggest, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bradley chuckles, settling back against you. “Deal,” he murmurs, letting his head rest against your shoulder once more.

The two of you lie there in comfortable silence, your bodies tangled together, as the world outside fades away.

[comfortscripts]

The 13 Fics of Kinktober l Kinktober '24

As we are in the 13 days of October, it is Kinktober time!

This is my reintroduction back into posting, and what better way than to jump in with some delicious scandalous smut!

Please consider all the warnings within each fic before reading, your consumption is your choice. This event is intended for 17+

1 ¬ A Glimpse Of What I'd Do For You l Coriolanus Snow ↪ Body Worship

2 ¬ Revenge Never Tasted So Sweet l Sirius Black ↪ Aphrodisiac

3 ¬ Tie Me Up Cowboy l Tyler Owens ↪ Rope Play

4 ¬ Not Even If You Imperio'd Me l Sebastian Sallow ↪ Hate Sex

5 ¬ Last Beer For A While l Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw ↪ Breeding

6 ¬ An Interesting Arrangement l Fred & George Weasley ↪ Free Use

7 ¬ Where's That Pretty Mouth Now? l Mattheo Riddle ↪ Exhibitionism

8 ¬ Thank You Spiderman l Dark!Peter Parker ↪ Masks

9 ¬ What's The Harm? l Remus Lupin ↪ Oral

10 ¬ Put Me In My Place l Jake 'Hangman' Seresin ↪ Power Play

11 ¬ Show Me Crazy l Tom Riddle ↪ Knife Play

12 ¬ Anyone For You l Eddie Munson ↪ Role-Play

13 ¬ Let Me Break You l Theodore Nott ↪ Size Difference

P.S. I should have posted a fic on the 18th but my laptop freaked, so you will get two in one day :)

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Easy Like Sunday Morning - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Lazy Sunday mornings are few and far between for you and Bradley. When they do happen, you make the best of them.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v (or at least, no protection mentioned), dirty talk, praise kink, Bradley worshipping you. Sort of CNC (both parties are awake though when the actual act occurs?)

word count: 1.5k

The morning sun peeked through the curtains over the large window in your bedroom. You yawned and stretched, a much needed gesture after a solid eight hours of fighting Bradley for the covers throughout the night. Beside you, he lay in bed, still snoring peacefully - you were convinced at this point an atom bomb could probably detonate beside his eardrum and he still wouldn’t stir.  His tanned arm rested just over the covers, his hand loosely gripping the fabric as he slept. He turned onto his side, causing the blanket to drop slightly, exposing a landscape of golden sunkissed skin dotted with freckles across his shoulders and upper back. Bradley would never admit to it, but he’d been hitting the gym harder lately, and it was starting to show more so as the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as he got comfortable. 

Bradley had always been a good looking man. You swore that from the moment you first saw him - dressed in his khaki uniform walking down the streets in Coronado as he and a couple of friends decided to grab lunch off base that day after a briefing. You’d been out for lunch with one of your friends, and Bradley caught your eye from a mile away. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and handsome - he was perfectly your type. As luck would have it, it turned out that he’d had his eye on you at the same time. Before leaving that afternoon, he’d stopped by the table where you were dining and flashed this beautifully crooked smile at you, the kind that made you just absolutely melt on the spot.

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, but I couldn’t walk away without telling you how beautiful you are.”

His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine when he spoke, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your brain processed what he’d said. He laughed when you told him he was sweet, his cheeks becoming rosy as you teased him, and that was that - within a couple of days, he was calling you for a date, and now, two years later, he was sound asleep in bed beside you, in the house you two had purchased together a few short months ago. 

You gently placed a kiss to his shoulder blade as you reminisced to yourself about meeting Bradley for the first time, causing him to murmur something softly, eyelids fluttering for a moment before remaining shut. After a few minutes, Bradley flipped back to lay on his back, grumbling quietly as he settled himself back into his rest. His curls were tousled messily from his tossing and turning, something that Bradley would quickly tame the moment he woke up with some hair styling products he had stashed away, specifically for making sure his hair remained in Navy regulation at every moment. 

You began to kiss his shoulder again, gently peppering his soft skin with tender kisses as he slept, showering him with affection. Bradley’s eyes fluttered again, a soft smirk forming on his lips as he glanced down at you, your trail of kisses now heading further towards his chest. He hummed softly and shut his eyes again, enjoying your display of tenderness towards him on this lazy morning. 

As you trailed your mouth down his body, you peeled back the blankets gently - trying your best not to wake him abruptly. You danced your fingers down his chest to his abdomen, your lips following suit. Once you reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, you delicately placed another kiss to the light trail of hair that extended from his naval to his waistline before sitting yourself upright. Carefully, you straddled his waist, taking care to seat yourself gently on his abdomen. You ducked your head down to begin kissing at his ear, which prompted a soft groan from Bradley.

“Mornin’, honey,” he said sleepily as he blinked his bleary brown eyes a few times in an effort to focus them on you. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your lips leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, something Bradley could never resist. 

“Mhmm,” Bradley shook his head, a strained chuckle falling from his lips as he shifted underneath you in the bed. “Honey, you’re making it really, really hard for me to not just flip you over and-” 

You raised a challenging eyebrow as you hovered yourself over top of his lap, settling down on the tenting fabric of his boxers. Grinding yourself against him, Bradley let out a deep grunt, shaking his head as he reached out and grabbed at your hips. He held you firmly in place, guiding your as you moved back and forth, rubbing yourself over top of his boxers. 

Bradley gazed up at you with lust-filled eyes as he pushed you back onto his thighs for a moment, reaching a hand down to shove the restricting fabric back off his waist. Your fingers teased and taunted him as you slowly pulled back his boxers, his hardening cock springing forwards as you freed it. Taking his length in your hand, you stroked it gently, your thumb tracing soft, delicate circles around the tip. 

“Honey, you’re killing me here,” Bradley rasped, watching you carefully as you continued to toy with him, pumping your hand along his shaft with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Roo,” you purred, using his callsign as a means to tease him.

“Fuck,” he panted, shaking his head for a minute to try and compose himself, “I need you to ride me, pretty girl. Think you’re up for it?”

“I think I can handle it.” 

You lifted the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt that you’d slept in up, just enough to keep it out of the way as you positioned yourself over top of him. You slid down on to him with a soft whine, tilting your head to the side as you looked down at him, pressing your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself. 

“Fuck, that’s it, honey. Lookin’ so pretty bouncing up and down on my cock,” Bradley grunted, his large hands reaching for any part of you he could get a grip on, settling for your thighs.

You bobbed yourself up and down on him with ease, working yourself into a rhythm as you rode Bradley. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thigh, causing you to whine as you sped up your movements. Bradley’s hands snuck their way up the bottom of your shirt, gliding their way against your sensitive skin before cupping your breasts. He gave them a playful squeeze before sliding them back down to your waist, guiding you up and down on him as he felt your walls beginning to clench around his cock. 

“S-so close, Bradley,” you whined, throwing your head back before darting your eyes down to meet his steely gaze. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it go for me, honey, I’ve got ya.” he coached, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.

You gasped as you felt Bradley switch his hand placement, one of his hands drifting to your abdomen. He reached down and pressed his fingertip into your clit, massaging it in circles as you rode him. Your orgasm hit you almost immediately after he made contact with your sensitive nub, a wicked grin formed on Bradley’s lips as he watched your thighs shake and the movement of your hips become less precise as you fell apart on him.

Bradley snapped his hips forwards into you, thrusting hard and deep into your throbbing cunt. He desperately pounded into you, his breath hitching in his throat as he brought himself close to the edge. Your name fell from his lips like a sacred prayer, repeating it over and over as his voice rasped - as if there was nothing else on his mind than you.

“Fuck, so good, honey, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me, baby girl.” he praised, worshipping you as he came down from his climax.

Breathlessly, you leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, passionate kiss. Your teeth grazed at his plump bottom lip gently as you pulled your head back, a grin forming on your features as you looked down at him.

“That’s one way to wake me up,” he laughed, shaking his head before gazing up at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Come on,” you grinned, tapping his thigh as you dismounted from his waist, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you coming with me, Roo?”

Bradley grinned, raising his dark eyebrow at you as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. 

“I wouldn’t miss it.”