Does Anyone Remember The Fic Where Bradley Is A Soldier In Ww2 And Reader Is A Doctor That Takes Care

Does anyone remember the fic where Bradley is a soldier in ww2 and reader is a doctor that takes care of him and then they fall in love because I’m trying to find it but I’m having a hard time

i’m all yours || bradley “rooster” bradshaw

summary: top gun pilots are the most competitive there is. throw in a little beach football + suntan oil, and you have yourself a recipe for peak entertainment. also chaos. 

words: ~1.4k

warnings: shirtless rooster, also everyone being super competitive, this is mostly just crack and fluff LMAO. also this was really poorly written i’m so sorry i have no idea how to pace fics. but i tried

a/n: requests are open :) during my socal trip i went to the beach two days in a row. and it kickstarted the rest of my inspo for this fic

“I should be flying right now, you know. It feels weird not to be flying right now.”

“Y/N, we came here to relax. Not to worry about what’s up there,” Phoenix placed her hands on your shoulders. “Give yourself a break, you’ve earned it…I mean, look at this nice weather! You’re going to love it. Now we need to get our asses out there before Hangman beats us to the coin toss.” 

“He’s such a ball hog,” you scoffed, and you two started running down the sand. “I’m putting you on my team!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way!” 

Keep reading

and so it goes

synopsis: bradley accepts maverick's invitation to spend christmas in the mountains, not realizing penny benjamin's hot niece will also be there.

pairings: bradley bradshaw x fem!reader (no y/n)

wc: 4.1K

warnings: an emphatic 18+, minors and ageless accounts dni, swearing, explicit smut, unprotected semi-public sex in a hot tub (writing this made me want to take a cranberry pill, please be safer than these two), thigh riding, dirty talk, a dash of exhibitionism, a sprinkle of praise kink

note: i... can't believe i wrote this. if you read we'd run inside out from the cold, i make a brief reference to bradley spending christmas skiing in the mountains. and somehow, here we now stand!

summoning @theharddeck (thighs) and @bioodforbiood (rooster is being slutty again) and a few people who wanted we'd run inside smut (if this isn't the worst thing you've ever seen, i'm working on that part two, i promise): @blue-aconite @thedroneranger @dhwanishah09 @six-bloodyminutes

“We should probably go inside…” 

…is what Bradley should have said 20 minutes ago when Penny and Maverick turned in for the night, leaving him alone in the outdoor hot tub with an open bottle of champagne and oh yeah, Penny Benjamin’s niece. 

December is frigid cold in the mountains, especially at this altitude, but from the deck, Bradley has a clear and perfect view of the mountains, peaked with snow and ice, glittering in the bluish moonlight. 

He also has a clear and perfect view of you, sitting across from him in a bikini top that barely covers anything at all. Steam rises from the surface of the water, doing precious little to obstruct the sight of your smooth skin, the barest tease of cleavage with your every shuddering breath.

Are you breathing like that on purpose? Bradley wonders, almost accusatory, then feels like a complete asshole. 

You could be having trouble breathing this high in the mountains. You shouldn’t risk altitude sickness, just because Bradley can’t look at your face without drifting down to your chest.

And once again, Bradley could've suggested going inside. 

He didn’t do that, choosing to instead refill his champagne glass, and now Maverick is probably going to let the damn missile take him out next time. He could’ve spent Christmas in San Diego alone. Not risking death at Penny Benjamin’s rented cabin.

He’d met you a few times at the Hard Deck, covering a shift at the bar for your aunt, like a good and dutiful niece. You were damn sweet too, taking orders and serving up drinks with a wide smile and an untouchable brightness in your eyes, even against the rudest patrons who’d had too much to drink.

You would smile all the way to the bell, ringing it without missing a beat, calling the nearest and strongest-looking Navy guys over to throw the asshole out in the sand. 

Hangman was the first one on the team to meet you, which was a little unfortunate for you. You did catch him in Relationship Jake mode when Jake had just started dating another Naval aviator on the team who was way too good for him. He wasn’t as much of an ass as usual. 

Walking into the Hard Deck, dressed in his usual open Hawaiian shirt, Bradley did a full-on double take at the unfamiliar bartender that Hangman was chatting with. You were effusive enough to dim the lights and the noise, drown out the loud music and chatter. He walked closer without even realizing it, drawn in. 

He didn’t catch the whole conversation, only the tail end. 

Where Hangman had said something like, “Aren’t you sweet?” with a scheming edge to his expression, something that the new Hard Deck bartender wouldn’t know to catch, not knowing him like Bradley did.

And with a subtle shake of his head, Hangman tucked it away, buttoned behind his signature smirk, and caught an eavesdropping Bradley around the shoulder.

“Bradshaw! You meet Penny’s niece yet?” 

Hangman shoved him forward, and Bradley stumbled into the bar hard enough to nearly knock the empty glasses from the counter. He turned to glare at the other man, but Jake had already melted in the crowd, no doubt seeking out his girlfriend – and again, too good for him – in the masses. 

You were watching him with raised brows, clearing away the glasses that had nearly shattered in the chaos and wiping down the counter. An expectant look on your face. 

He looked you up and down, like Bradley had been looking anywhere else for the past three minutes straight, and offered you a sheepish smile and a handshake. You met him with a warm smile and slipped your hand into his, telling him your name. 

“Pretty name,” Bradley repeated it, holding your hand for a half second longer than was strictly polite. You looked down at your hands, still joined over the counter, the cutest wrinkle in your forehead. He gave you your hand back, already mourning the contact. “I’m Bradley.” 

You eyed him and asked, “Bradley Bradshaw? What kind of name is that?” with a teasing lilt to your voice, passing him an IPA and opting to linger for a moment, despite the Hard Deck patrons clamoring for your attention on the other side. 

Rested your elbows on the sticky counter and leaned in. 

He nodded a confirmation. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

Women had always complimented him on his hands, wide palms and good fingers, and Bradley made sure to circle the bottle in his hand right in your line of sight, lingering there, not lifting it to his mouth. You watched him the whole time, an expression on your face that was unreadable. Not self-conscious though.

You didn’t seem to care that Bradley noticed. 

“You can call me Bradley.” He traced a knuckle through the condensation on the bottle, watching you watch him, gaze flitting from his face to his hand and back again. “Rooster works too. Hell, I think I’d probably answer to Bradshaw.” 

“Oh, so I can call you anything I like then?” 

Something shifted in your expression, warmed that bright smile into something more knowing, more flirtatious. Look at that, Bradley thought, taking another sip of his beer, fist tight around the glass. Teeth dented your lower lip, and Bradley wanted to reach out and pull your lip from between them. 

He wanted to sink his own into it. 

He opened his mouth to let out his best line when Penny appeared from the back and called your name. You shot him a parting smile, rescuing a few crumbled bills from the counter on your way over, and Bradley was left to watch you go, mind spinning with the possibilities. 

And now, Bradley doesn’t have to imagine the possibilities anymore. 

Sure, Maverick will probably sabotage his snowboard on the Black Diamond tomorrow and make his death look like an unfortunate accident, all in the name of Penny Benjamin, but Bradley is feeling a little daring right now. 

You last all of 10 minutes alone together before Bradley has you in his lap, grinding down on his bare thigh under the bubbling water with the damp fabric of that obscenely small bikini top balled up in his fist. 

And in his defense, Bradley makes a gallant effort for those 10 minutes. 

He really does.

He pulls out all the good conversation starters. Such as…

“Moon looks really cool tonight.” 

He whips that one out around the 2:45 minute mark, after Bradley already finished his champagne and offered the rest to you in the name of being polite and like, a goddamn gentleman. Forgetting that Maverick had taken your glass inside.

You reassured him, “Oh, I don’t need a glass,” and proceeded to pour champagne directly into your open mouth. It bubbled over your parted lips, spilling over the edge of your chin, trickling down your neck and collarbone, and Bradley had to look at the stars overhead and count backwards from 200.

200, 199, 198… You can’t fuck Penny Benjamin’s niece and ruin Christmas, or Maverick will leave you for dead in the wilderness… 197, 196, 195…

And Bradley’s tried and true check out the moon distraction doesn’t work out so well for him either. You can’t see it well from your spot in the hot tub and end up moving next to him to get a better angle, and now, Bradley has a front-row seat to the steam drifting off your skin.

Not your best work there, Bradshaw. 

“So…” Bradley tries again, around the 5:00 minute mark, after finding and losing Orion’s Belt six times. “You’re Penny’s niece, which makes you like… the daughter of her sister, right? That’s… cool.” 

You send him an odd look and don’t respond, closing your eyes and leaning your head back on the edge. Tuning him out. 

He probably deserves that. 

And around the 9:30 minute mark, Bradley has thought too hard about the steam rising from your skin and the flush that is spreading down your torso from the temperature. You get to your knees to look out over the dark blue mountains, and Bradley watches a droplet of moisture run from your shoulder down the length of your spine. 

He can’t get out of the hot tub like this. He’ll need to wait you out. 

It is fine. He can wait. 

He can stay out here all night. 

Less than 30 seconds later, Bradley is digging his thumb into the hinge of your jaw, opening you up to him, licking inside your mouth. You are sticky warm from the steam. A stark contrast from the chill of your lips, cold from the below freezing temperatures. 

He’d seen you sucking on a peppermint stick all evening, twirling it around a spiked hot chocolate, and Bradley can taste the rich chocolate and mint on your tongue. He could probably lick your neck and taste the spilled champagne. 

He wants nothing more than to lift you onto one of the wooden lounge chairs and press his face between your thighs. He wants you to ride him into oblivion and make his last Christmas alive a good one.

Maverick can kill him on New Year's.  

He doesn’t want to risk moving much closer to the still-dark cabin, so Bradley catches you around the waist, pressing and grabbing at any available skin. You make an encouraging noise against his mouth, and Bradley gets bolder, covering your breast with one large palm and anchoring you in place with the other one. 

He bounces his thigh, grinding you down on him at the exact same time, and god-fucking-damn, Bradley could come from that delicious sound alone, as gasping and needy as the hands that cling to his slick shoulders. 

He does it again, soaking in those gorgeous noises. 

Bradley breaks the kiss, hooking a thumb underneath the loose sting of your bikini bottoms that are still on for some fucking reason. You don’t need them anymore. He needs to feel you.

“Get these off,” Bradley whispers against your throat, pressing a hot kiss to the spot below your jaw. A quick taste confirms what Bradley suspected. You taste like champagne and sweat. 

“Take them off then.” You look at him with a challenge in your eyes, a twitch in your lips giving away your amusement. “I’m comfortable right here.” 

And to demonstrate your point, Bradley feels you rock down on his thigh once more, moving your hips without his guidance. He watches you, incredulous and turned on behind comprehension, and as retaliation, Bradley doesn’t bother unknotting the tie. 

He closes his fist around the strings and pulls hard enough to make them snap in two, shoving them to the side. Fabric floats up to the middle of the jacuzzi, joining the untied bikini top. It is damning evidence, and Bradley will need to remember to grab those on their way inside. 

You go still on top of him, and Bradley bites back a smirk. 

“Oh… my god, Bradley. I didn’t bring another swimsuit.” You slap your wet palm against his shoulder, looking about as menacing as Bradley has ever seen you look. Like a little baby kitten with a fluffed tail. “If I can’t use the hot tub for the rest of the trip because of you and your… your caveman hands…” 

“Oh yeah? You seemed to like my caveman hands a minute ago,” Bradley teases, testing his luck to the max.

He grips your thigh in his ‘caveman’ hand, hard enough to leave marks, and yanks you forward. His swim trunks ride low on his hips, so Bradley can feel you against his torso, smooth and warm and spread wide.

“What changed, baby?” 

You shiver, and Bradley sneaks a hand between your bodies, pressing the pad of his thumb right on your clit. Nails dig into his bicep, urging him on, and Bradley smiles again. 

“You still like them, don’t you?” 

“Maybe…” is more of an exhale than an admission. You look at him from under half-lowered lids, mouth slack from the feeling of Bradley gently circling your clit with his fingers. “But… I really did want to use the tub again. It’s, ah…” He sinks an index finger into you without preamble. You take him like a dream, all honey and silk around him. “It’s relaxing.” 

“You need to relax?” 

You nod, and Bradley nibbles at your neck, licking away the drops of champagne that still cling to your skin. He feels buzzed. It is probably just your proximity, the feeling of you on him.

“I’ll help you relax. Sweet thing like you, always looking out for everyone, aren’t you? Always helping everyone. You need someone who’ll be sweet to you too, don’t you, honey?” 

He winds your damp hair around his fingers at the base of your skull, reveling in the way your mouth falls open, the way you clench down around his fingers, absently canting your hips into him. God. He is hard enough to hurt, watching you like this. 

You don’t answer, and Bradley gives your hair a gentle but firm tug.

“Answer me, sweetness. I need to hear you say it.” 

A sharp inhale brings your chest against his, and Bradley can feel your hardened nipples. He’ll get to those later, right now Bradley is too busy watching your face, feeling you flutter around his fingers. 

“Yes.”

“Yes…?” Bradley prompts, capturing your gasp with a crushing kiss against your open mouth. He pulls away, letting your hair flow through his fingers, moving that hand back down to hold tight to your hips. He stills you, ignoring your whimpered protest. “Gotta be more specific than that.” 

You look him right in the eye, despite the embarrassed flush that’s overtaken your cheeks. “Yes, I want you to be… I want you to be sweet to me, want you to help me relax. I want all of it.” 

“Good girl.” 

Bradley pulls away all of his fingers except the one that’s teasing your clit. You give him this sad, mournful look and open your mouth to complain, maybe even to whine, but Bradley slides you back down onto his leg. He slots his firm thigh between yours, bends his knee to push against you, and the only sound that passes your lips is a breathy ‘fuck’ that makes him groan.

“I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ll be sweet to you,” Bradley promises, guiding your hand to the front of his swim trunks. He is so big, straining against the loose fabric. You tug your lip between your teeth. “But I need to get you ready for me. I need you to be good for me. Can you do that?” 

“Yes, I… Tell me how.” 

“I need you to come all over my thigh.”

You really shouldn’t let him talk to you like this, shouldn’t be in this position at all, completely naked on the broad thigh of the cute Naval aviator who sometimes smiled and flirted with you at the Hard Deck. 

Actually… You should probably give yourself a little more credit here.

You knew Bradley was interested in you. Had been able to tell from the moment Hangman called him over on the very first night when Bradley had been hovering only a few feet away, obviously listening in. 

He’d smiled at you, all big and unassuming brown eyes that probably got him both in and out of all sorts of trouble. He was built like a brick shithouse, tall and wide and completely, utterly hot. 

Hot enough that when Penny asked you to come on the annual Northern California trip while Amelia opted for a tropical Christmas in Hawaii with Aunt Penny’s ex-husband…

You might have not so subtly asked whether Captain Mitchell had any plans to invite Bradley there for Christmas, accepting the invitation after Penny snorted and informed you that yes, Maverick had asked him. You choose to ignore the knowing undertone of her response. 

You hadn’t been expecting anything in all honestly, more curious about whether Bradley would act any different towards you outside the familiar environment of the Hard Deck. Hoped for a kiss under the nonexistent mistletoe at most. Maybe even a dinner invitation back in San Diego. 

Nothing like this. 

Bradley is still holding you between his hands, a crooked knuckle stroking and teasing at you under the water. It’s… different doing this here, hot water sloshing around your elbows, a fine layer of steam rapidly cooling on your skin in the cold mountain air. You didn’t expect to like it so much.

Snow starts to drift down from above, melting on the surface of the water, and Bradley is looking at you with liquid warmth swimming in his deep brown eyes, an intense concentration on his face.

Right. He asked you a question. 

Not a question. He told you how to do something.

How to be good for him.

Shivers run down your spine at the thought. 

“I think…” You aren’t doing all the much thinking right now to be honest. It is mostly overwhelming arousal and radio static up there right now. “I can do that. I want to do that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

And the corner of Bradley’s mouth kicks up into a self-satisfied smirk. “Better get to work then. Don’t know how long I can stand having you spread open for me and not fuck you, but I’ll wait for you, baby.”

Something about that flips a switch in you, the idea that Bradley is holding himself back from grabbing you and sinking you down on his cock. You pick up your previous pace, rolling your hips forward and down on his thigh. He meets you at your level, working your clit, letting you push against the palm of his hand.

It feels unreal. 

Before Bradley even really gets talking. 

“Look at you, baby,” He hums the words against your neck, littering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, sometimes pausing to suck and bite in the places that could easily be covered with a scarf.

“You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you? Everyone loves you. Such a sweet little angel, and yet, I’ve got you out here riding my fucking thigh. Someone could come out and see us. You don’t care, do you?” 

You can’t help the clench of your thighs, the too loud moan that bubbles from your lips. He shushes you and continues to torment you with dirty words whispered in your ear, voice deep and rasping. 

Pleasure is building and building. 

You are hot enough to burn.

“Fuck yourself on my thigh, angel,” Bradley instructs, pressing down on your clit. Everything disappears in a streak of white for a moment, and then Bradley comes back into focus, an apparition in the steam, urging you on. “Come for me. Come all over me, and then I’ll fuck you. You want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby?” 

You can’t get the words out, too drunk on the sensation of his hard thigh slotted against you, the perfect friction of it. Feeling more benevolent, Bradley accepts your nod as an answer this time. You can feel him, hard as a rock against your thigh, and in your pleasure drunk state, fumble with the band of his swim trunks to free him. 

It takes a few attempts, and one particularly well-placed thrust from Bradley almost makes you give up. You manage to get him out though, taking him in your hand, thick and heavy, running your thumb over the top of him. 

It’s no small satisfaction that Bradley seems as needy as you right now, as unbalanced, groaning into your shoulder. 

“Come for me,” Bradley repeats, low and warm against your skin.

It doesn’t take much more than those words and a few more strokes, and Bradley has to catch you against his chest, shaking and shuddering around him and over him, miles away from here.

You can barely make out the soothing praise that Bradley mumbles into your damp hairline. Good. Good. So good for me. Did so well for me. He is throbbing in your hand, and as soon as the white-hot pleasure has cooled, Bradley is pulling you back over him, sinking you down on him in one smooth thrust. 

A large hand comes over your mouth to muffle the high-pitched cry that threatens to echo through the damn mountain range, and Bradley’s dark gaze flits between your eyes, waiting for your nod. 

He doesn’t waste much time after that, seeming to realize at the same time as you that time is limited. Riding his thigh might’ve been a spiritual experience. It doesn’t mean that Penny and Maverick aren’t currently sleeping in a cabin less than 15 feet away. 

Sweat drips down his neck as Bradley lifts you up and lowers you back down again, fucking you in deep and unrelenting thrusts, filling you up over and over again. You pulse around him, still sensitive from the aftershocks of that orgasm, and still moving in you, Bradley drops his head back against the edge of the tub, letting out a pained exhale.

“You’re so fucking tight. Taking my cock like a fucking dream. So perfect for me.” 

He hits a spot that makes your toes curl, makes electricity shoot through your entire body. You cling to his chest, pulling at his broad shoulders and insanely muscular arms. Kiss the underside of his jaw, cupping his jaw. 

You’re not even sure Bradley is aware of the words coming out of his mouth right now, eyes screwed shut, thrusting into you with increasing sloppiness, both of you growing closer to the edge. 

“God, baby, I wish I didn’t have to be quiet right now, I want to hear your moans and screams. Want to hear you scream my name.” 

“When I get you back to San Diego, I’m going to keep you in my bed for a whole fucking week, make you come on my tongue and my cock over and over and over.” 

"Bet you'll be so fucking sweet. Can't wait to..."

“Fuck, I think… I’m…” 

He brings up his fingers to pinch at your nipples, to get you there with him, and barely 30 seconds after your second orgasm of the night pitches you forward, Bradley is spilling inside of you, moaning your name. 

Later, Bradley wraps you in a towel, carefully fishing the ruined bikini from the cooling water and grimacing down at the hot tub with his hands on his hips. He picks up the bottle of champagne, weighing it in his hand.

“Do you think if I tell Mav that I spilled champagne in the hot tub and not to use it for the rest of the trip…” Bradley starts, tugging at the towel that sits low on his hips, squinting at the remaining liquid in the bottle. “…that there is any chance he’ll believe me?” 

A smile quirks your lips. “I’d say an even 50-50 split.” 

“Good enough for me,” Bradley says with a shrug and dumps the remaining dribbles of champagne into the tub, tossing the bottle in after it. He looks proud of his work, tugging the cover back into place.

You are both silent on the walk back to the cabin, lost in thought. You are watching the snow that’s started to fall from the sky again, wondering what… all of that meant for the future.

Bradley is gnawing the edge of his lip, probably thinking about the champagne or the slopes tomorrow or…

He loops a naked arm around your waist without a word.

Giddiness warms your chest. 

You clear your throat, trying not to let it show in your voice. You deserve at least a veneer of coolness after letting him fuck you senseless in a hot tub, what with the infection you’re definitely going to get from this.

Worth it. 

“So...” You remember his earlier words, the ones from the heat of the moment that Bradley probably doesn’t even remember saying out loud. “‘When I get you back to San Diego’, huh?” 

He scratches at the back of his neck, and in the dim light, you can make out the softest flush that creeps over his bare chest. How Bradley could be embarrassed now is beyond you. Sheepish is an adorable look on him though. 

“Did… Did I forget to ask you out?”  

“It might’ve slipped through the cracks.” 

“Ah,” Bradley says, looking down at you with bright eyes and color high in his cheeks. Snow catches in his lashes and his mustache. You have the sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss it away. “Well, I’d like to take you out back in San Diego. How’s that sound to you?” 

You stretch up on your toes to kiss him, right there in the snow, dressed in nothing but your towels. He is warm enough for the both of you right now, skimming his palms over your shoulder blades, cupping your nape. 

You give your answer.

“Thought you’d never ask, Bradshaw.” 

(...anyway... thoughts?)

A rooster smut ficx reader with him being the best man and the reader being a bridesmaid (they do it in a closet )

Wedding Party

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Word Count: 1166

As the maid of honor, the reader is making sure the last-minute details of the wedding reception are in place, but Bradley has a different plan in mind.

Warning: Literally smut, oral (F receiving). Minors DNI.

Inbox is open

Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

It’s not every day your best friend gets married to your fiance’s best friend, and it’s not every day you and said fiance have to give best man and maid of honor speeches. The two limos, which carried all of the bridal party to the reception venue, arrived only a few minutes before the newlywed couple and the guests. The cocktail hour would start in twenty minutes and after that toasts would be given. Being the maid of honor, I was scurrying around before everyone arrived, just to make sure nothing was out of place. 

Once I had seen that everything was absolutely as perfect as it could be, I started to the back rooms, where the bridal party would be waiting. Guests had already started to trickle in and we needed to line up for our entrances, along with the bride and groom. I was on my way there when a hand suddenly latched onto my wrist and pulled me into a coat closet. 

“What the fu-” My confused exclamation was cut off by a pair of soft, plump lips and a scratchy mustache pressing firmly against my mouth and tickling my upper lip. I knew that facial hair anywhere. “Bradley, what the hell?”

“What?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t still my fiancee away for a moment alone?”

“No,” I pushed away from him gently but his hands were holdfast. “I am supposed to be making sure this goes smoothly so my best friend doesn't blow a gasket.”

“Oh but you just look so beautiful in that dress. Light green is really your color.” He leaned down and started to pepper kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

“It’s sage and if you make a mark on me, I swear, Bradley Bradshaw, I will hurt you.”

“Aw, baby, come on. Let's have a bit of fun before the party starts.” His hands started to pull at the chiffon material of my dress. I tried to brush them away but he was too stubborn.

“We can’t. Everyone will be here in a matter of minutes and we have to line up for the walk-in.” 

It was like my words when in one ear and out the other and he lifted my skirt and slowly descended to his knees, throwing the fabric over his head. I caught myself on the wall beside me and the top of his head as he hastily threw my left leg over his shoulder. 

“Just a little taste baby, I promise.” 

A short annoyed but desperate sigh left my lips. “I swear, are you going to be like this when we get married?”

I couldn’t see it but I could just imagine the shit-eating grin on his lips as he pulled my panties aside before he said, “Oh, I’m going to be so much worse.”

Then, wasting no time, his hot mouth was on me. The hand I had resting on the top of his head, flew to my mouth, stopping the gasp from being too loud. I would be mortified if anyone were to walk in and see this. 

My skin grew hot and clammy as he lapped at my cunt, humming in satisfaction when I would roll my hips into him. His hands held firmly onto the backs of my thighs and every now and then he would massage them. 

With every flick of his tongue, I came a little closer to falling apart. “Ah, Bradley, keep going, just like that baby, feels so good.” My soft moans could barely be contained by my hand pressing against my mouth. It was becoming torture trying to be as quiet as possible. 

I could feel my right leg becoming wobbly from the strain of holding my weight on a singular foot in one of the highest heels ever. “I’m gonna fall,” I whisper yell right before my knee gives out. Bradley catches me with ease, hoisting my other leg over his shoulder while pushing my back up against the adjacent wall. 

It was an uncomfortable position, being almost crumpled between his shoulders and the small width of the closet wall. That all fell away, though, when Bradley’s lips started to suck harshly on my clit, pulling less than attractive groans from me. Desperately, I tried to move my dress from over his head so that I could run my fingers through his sandy brown hair, but the fabric would not corporate with my fumbling fingers. 

My head practically slammed into the wall behind me, creating a loud thud. Bradley’s mouth came away from my soaking cunt to let out a laugh. “You need to be quiet, babe. Wouldn’t want to get caught would we?”

I slapped playfully at his covered head. “Shut up and keep doing what you were doing.”

The fabric of my dress moved slightly as he shook his head and dove back into my folds. This time though, his tongue delved into my cunt and swallowed the quickly accumulating juices of my arousal before he went back to sucking at my clit.

The fingers of his right hand left their place on the outside of my thigh and traveled to my entrance, two of them pushing in. They were thick and familiar. I took them easily, my pussy contracting around them to try and pull him into me further. 

As he slowly began to drive his digits in and out, I could feel the tale tell signs of an oncoming orgasm. My breathing became shallow and even though I couldn’t move that much being held to the wall, my back tried to arch. My toes curled in my heels in anticipation of the incoming flood. 

Bradley’s fingers pumped faster and my body started to heat up more and more, sweat beginning to drip from my forehead. My hands flailed, not being able to rest contently in one spot. 

“Bradley, baby,” I gasped as his tongue flicked at my clit between sucks. “I’m gonna- AHH!” I yelped into the air. He had curled his fingers up, massaging my insides, becoming my orgasm closer. It listened to his expert fingers as they kept curling up and straightening. I could hear how wet I was with each lewd squelch.

Finally, I was pushed over the edge when Bradley teasingly bit at my clit. The sudden sting of pain, turning into immense pleasure, was just enough to have me silently screaming into the open air of the closet. 

As I came down for the glorious high, Bradley expertly maneuvered me off his shoulders and away from the wall. The hands he so recently used for pleasure, now fixing my dress and slicking back his messed-up hair. 

Outside of the closet door, I could hear the wedding coordinator running around, asking where we were and I chuckled, knowing we should not have been doing this.

“Come on babe, don’t wanna be late for that walk-in, hum?” Bradley asked with a smirk before kissing my lips. 

“Fuck you, Bradshaw.”

“Oh, you will later.”

Miles Taglist: @n3ssM0nique @babyhoneystvles @xelizabethvalentinex

Home sweet home

Summary: Bradley comes home to his little family

Warnings: Smut

All Bradley wanted to do was go home to his wife and three children, Nick, who was eight, Jake, who was five, and Carter, who was one month. He text you to let you know he was on the way home and smiled when your name popped up back.

He drove down the street without listening to music and pushed his aviators higher up on his nose as the sun warmed his face.

His whole body ached and his muscles were tense, his head was lightly pounding and he was starving. His body seemed to relax a little bit when he saw your shared house come into view. He pulled into the driveway and grabbed his duffle bag from the back of the car and got out. Nick came running out of the house with a baseball glove in his hand, it dropped as he smiled and outstretched his arms to his dad. Bradley kneeled down with his arms open and braced himself when Nick flew into his embrace.

“Daddy!” Nick laughed in his ear. Bradley smiled and hugged his son close as he scooped him and his bag up and walked across the yard.

“Hi bud! Were you good for your mom?” Bradley asked and kissed his cheek.

“Always!” Nick laughed.

Bradley looked up as you opened the screen door with a small smile on your face. His whole body relaxed, his head stopped pounding, and his stomach stopped growling when he saw you. In your beautiful long dress that you had bought when you were seven months pregnant for after the baby. He remembered you mentioned you wanted to wear dresses as they were more comfortable after the baby.

You were glowing, and looked like an angel to him. He set Nick down and his heavy bag and walked towards you. “Hi honey.” He whispered as he melted into your embrace. “Hi, Roo.” You sweetly whispered as you wrapped one hand around his neck and the other hand ran through his hair gently. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he held you close and breathed in your scent.

“How was work?” You asked and pulled away to look at his face, you still held him close to you.

“Stressful, I just wanted to come home to you and the boys.” He sighed as he brought his hand up to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“We missed you.” You leaned up and kissed his lips softly.

“Good thing I’m off tomorrow.” He smirked and leaned back down to kiss your lips again.

You laughed against them as you pulled away when you heard Carter crying in the house. You turned to walk inside as Bradley followed you and set his bag down. “Where’s Jake?” Bradley asked as you picked up Carter from his play mat.

“He’s down for his nap, he didn’t have one this morning.” You cradled Carter to your chest and held his head.

“Hey daddy’s big boy.” Bradley bent down to kiss his chubby cheek. Carter yawned and rubbed his eyes with his little fingers as you rubbed his back.

“It’s time for someone to eat.” You spoke to him in your baby voice and walked further into the house. Nick was in the living room, by Carters play mat, playing with his baseball cards.

You walked into the kitchen with Carter as Bradley followed you to check on supper. “Do you mind stirring that pot so I can feed little man?” You asked at Carter had his mouth open running it along your chest and whining.

“Yeah honey, go ahead I got this.” He nodded and kissed your cheek softly.

You thanked him, sat at the table and grabbed the nursing blanket to cover you while you fed him.

Bradley finished stirring the pots and turning the burners down before walking over to you and sitting down at the table.

He watched you as you peeked under the blanket as Carter whined loudly. “He hates this thing.” You muttered as you removed the blanket from him and let him nurse without it covering him.

“Me too.” He smirked to himself and continued to watch you.

You gave him an unamused look as you looked back down to Carter whose eyes were on you. “What you looking at sweet boy? Huh?” You cooed at him.

Nick ran in with his baseball cards and showed his dad his favorite one. “That’s awesome, buddy!” Bradley said as he flipped through various players.

“Mom, when is supper going to be ready?” He turned to you.

“Since when did you start calling her ‘mom’?” Bradley asked with a raised brow.

“I don’t know, I just did.” Nick shyly said as he looked back to you,

“In about fifteen minutes, baby.” He nodded and ran back off to play.

Carter let go of you and yawned, you pulled your dress back up and grabbed a burp rag and set him upright in your lap before gently patting his back.

“Did you talk to Mav yet?” You looked at Bradley.

He looked up at you from Carter, “Yeah, he said he and Penny would love to have them over.”

“That’s great.” You smiled and your eyes went wide as Carter released a loud noise. “Carter!” You laughed and rubbed his back.

“At least he didn’t spit up.” Bradley laughed.

Jake walked in with his blanket and rubbed his eyes.

“Mommy.” He whined and approached you.

“Hi baby, did you have a good sleep?” You asked as he climbed in Bradley’s lap.

“Daddy you’re home?” He mumbled tiredly as he snuggled into Bradley’s chest.

“Yeah, buddy, I missed you.” He kissed the top of his head.

You rocked Carter and watched as Bradley held Jake close to him. Smiling, you kissed Carters head and placed his pacifier in his mouth as his eyes closed.

-

Bradley took a short shower before supper and joined y’all at the table. After supper, Bradley took the boys to the bath as you fed Carter another time. He was cluster feeding frequently and it was hard to get things done around the house. Bradley walked in and kissed you on the lips.

“The boys all clean?” You asked as you kissed Carters head and snuggled him on your chest.

“You bet.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss your neck.

“Thanks, baby.” You smiled and grabbed his jaw to lead it up to your lips as you kissed him there.

“You ready to go to bed?” He asked you.

“Yes.” You watched as he locked the doors and turned the lights out, you padded to your shared bedroom and grabbed a diaper from your bedside table. You set Carter down and undid his onesie as Bradley laid down on his side.

You handed Bradley the wet diaper and put a new one on Carter and Bradley walked to your bathroom to throw it away. You changed Carter into his pajamas and zipped him up. You picked him up and kissed him softly and turned him to Bradley, “Say goodnight to daddy.”

Bradley kissed him on the cheek and took him from your arms before carrying him to the nursery. You turned the monitor on beside your bed and slipped your dress off. Bradley walked back in and shut the door quietly before sighing and walking towards you. He grabbed you and pulled you into his chest tightly.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He smirked as his hands trailed up your sides and came to both sides of your face, “You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he looked into your eyes.

You smiled and blushed, “Bradleyyy” you giggled as he dipped his head you kiss down your neck. He led you to lay down on the bed as he hovered above you, still kissing your neck, he grabbed your neck and gently squeezed.

“Bradley.” You moaned his name into his lips.

“What do you need, baby?” He took a finger on your forehead and moved a strand of hair from your face. “Tell daddy what you want.”

“You.” You sighed. His hands found your waist as he kissed down your belly until he kissed the lace that adorned your body.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” His middle fingers went under the sides of your panties as he kissed your clothed clit. He licked up your slit until your panties were wet and you were a whining mess.

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed as his hands came up and pressed on your belly as he continued to tease you. He finally drug your panties down slowly and kissed your thighs until your panties ended up on the ground. He knelt down on the floor and drug you easily to the edge of the bed until you could feel his breath on your throbbing cunt.

He took two fingers and spread your heat open for him to watch your slick run between your folds. “Look how wet you are for me, baby. All for me?” He looked up into your pleading eyes.

“Yes, Bradley.” You shrieked softly as he swatted the side of your ass.

“No ma’am. That isn’t my name.” He shook his head as he plunged a finger into you suddenly. You moaned out as he curled it and rubbed the roof of your pussy.

“Daddy.” You moaned and watched him.

“There you go.” He brought his lips down and kissed your clit, sucking a little until he pulled back and your clit released from his lips. He leaned back and spat on your throbbing pussy. He didn’t spit on it where the spit dripped from his lips. No he literally spat on your pussy.

“Please, daddy.” You moaned and wiggled, your hips pushed forward further onto his hand trying to fuck yourself on his finger.

“Shh, sh, sh. Be a good girl.” He pumped his finger slowly into you and watched as you brought a finger up to your breast and twisted your nipple between them. He noticed your boobs had gotten bigger since having children and breastfeeding all of them. He loved them.

He removed his finger and dove into your pussy, his tongue flattened and warmed your heat as he shoved his thick tongue into your cunt. He removed it with a suctioning sound and kissed your clit. He sucked it and brought both hands up to your tits as he pulled your nipples. You moaned and covered your mouth remembering your sleeping kids.

Your hands grabbed at his hair and pulled him closer as you were so close with him sucking on your clit like that. You could hear him sucking and releasing it and your moans.

He pulled away and came up to you and kissed you to give you a taste of yourself. He grabbed you and hauled you up to carry you and throw you on the middle of the bed.

You gasped as he came between your thighs and shoved his pants and boxers off. He sat up and tore his shirt off quickly, wasting no time before coming back down to you and grabbing your neck and squeezing.

He held your hip and looked you in the eyes, his hand came from your neck to your cheek as it stroked it lovingly. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

You nodded and opened your thighs more before grabbing his hips and pulling him towards you. He grabbed his thick cock in his hands before swiping the bead of precum from his tip with this thumb and rubbing your clit with it. He slowly sank into you as you whimpered and threw your head back. His hand came and clamped on your mouth, “Shh, you gotta be quiet for me.”

He sank into you until his hips hit yours and his balls hit your ass. Your arms came around his neck and pulled him in until your lips met his. “Fuck, Bradley.”

“I know, sweet girl.” He kissed your jaw then your cheek, “I missed you so much today.”

He leaned back to look at your sweet face as he gently made short thrusts into your sopping cunt. The soft clapping filled your ears as your face reddened, you softly whimpered with each thrust as you gasped.

“Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful. So tight for me.” He groaned and shoved his face in your neck. He licked up to your ear and pressed a kiss there until he sat up and threw one of your legs over his shoulder. He started a faster pace and grabbed your tits in his big hands. His biceps contracted as he stared at you with nothing but love and lust.

“Fuck Bradley, fuck me.” You cried. He nodded as a promise and fucked you harder and drug his thick cock out further before slamming it back into you. It hit that special spot in you as you cried and closed your eyes. He fell forward and pressed his chest to yours. “God, you’re so good Bradley.” You moaned.

He groaned and sucked on your neck as you felt him spurt into you with hot white ropes of cum. You moaned at the feeling and the knot inside of you snapped as you cried loudly. His hand clamped on your mouth as you came down from your high. He slowed his pace and sat in you for a moment and removed his hand, he looked at you with love as he smiled softly. “I love you.” He sighed.

“I love you too, Roo.”

He removed himself and grabbed his wife beater and gently wiped your pussy clean with it. “Good girl.” He muttered as you sighed.

He grabbed one of his shirts for you and helped you into it, not without a kiss to each boob first. He crawled into bed and pulled you close to his chest and kissed your forehead.

“I think Carter is learning to smile.” You yawned and snuggled deeper into his chest.

He smiled at the thought, “He’s so smart.”

He looked down at you and saw you were sound asleep against his chest. He smiled and kissed your cheek before resting his head against yours and falling asleep as well.

How You Play the Game Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After two days apart, the continuous phone calls and texts have Bradley running up to meet you near Los Angeles for game three. He likes all of it, every minute with you. And then you tell him that his favorite part is your favorite part, too.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, masturbation, oral, and smut (18+)

Length: 7100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You woke up with Bradley's big arm wrapped around you. His alarm was going off, but he was still asleep. You rolled over so you were facing him, but he just pulled you closer.

"Where you goin'?" he mumbled, eyes still closed. "Stay here, Ace."

Your smile was enormous as you bit your lip. "Bradley," you whispered, kissing his nose. "You have to go to work."

"No." He pulled you impossibly closer as you laughed.

"Your alarm is going off." He muffled your words with his lips on yours, and he rolled you onto your back as he kissed you.

"Don't care," he murmured, pressing kiss after glorious kiss to your lips. But then you laughed, and so did he, because his alarm kept getting louder and louder. "Do not move an inch," he whispered, pinning your hands above your head on the pillow and easing himself away from you. "I'm serious, Ace. I want to pick up right where I'm leaving off."

You giggled as you watched him climb out of bed and walk naked across your hotel room. The early morning light filtering in through the curtains lit up his tan skin. He was beautiful. His skin still looked summer sunkissed, and you tracked him with your eyes as he located his phone on the floor. 

"I told you not to move," he growled, climbing back into bed and crawling toward you, his big hands immediately holding both of yours. 

"I didn't," you whispered with a smile, turning your head to the side as his mustache brushed your ear. Then he eased his body back where it belonged, right on top of yours. What a thought. He was already familiar. You shouldn't feel this comfortable with someone you literally just met. You shouldn't be thinking about the next time you were going to see him. 

"Now where was I?" he muttered, frowning at you like he couldn't remember. "I think I was right about here." His kisses were probably the only thing you needed right now. Each one was more exciting than the last, and you wound your fingers in his pretty hair. He was hard against your thigh now, never shy about his reaction to you. 

You wanted him. There were eighteen condoms left to use. But when he broke the kiss and ran his thumb along your bottom lip, you pouted a little bit. "You need to leave."

He shook his head just slightly. "I need to stay."

"No, no, no, Bradley. You told me to tell you that you had to go to work today. You told me last night to tell you that the planes won't fly themselves, and that you aren't allowed to spend the day with me."

"Never said that," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his thumb grazed your cheek softly. "I'd never tell someone as pretty as you that I wasn't going to spend the whole day with them."

"Bradley," you whimpered, and he sighed. 

Then he buried his face against your shoulder and kissed you there. "It's just that I want to spend as much time with you as I can. While I can."

He said he would get a ticket to game three just to see you. Just to be with you up near Los Angeles. Your voice was soft as you asked, "You'll really come to game three tomorrow night?" You felt vulnerable. You never felt this way. You had to have the biggest bark and the biggest bite in your line of work, and you were always ready to be on offense or defense. But you didn't feel like you had to try so hard with him. You felt like you could breathe and enjoy yourself.

Bradley's lips were on yours again, and then he said, "I'll buy a ticket on my lunch break today. And when I text you, are you going to respond?"

"Yes," you whispered with a grin. "As long as you go to work like you're supposed to."

"Yes, ma'am," he rasped. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow night. And I can't wait to read your article later today."

You were basking in the warmth of his words, but when his lips started a trail down your chest, you knew you needed to be the responsible one here. "Go. To. Work."

He groaned as he rolled off of you again and stood with his hands on his hips. You propped yourself up and looked up at him as he gestured toward the floor. "Eighteen more condoms. Am I taking them for safe keeping, or should I leave them with you?"

You tapped your lips with your index finger and asked, "Are you going to need them between now and the next time I see you?"

Bradley scoffed and said, "I already told you, Baby, I like you the best. I was only joking about the blue feathers. I'm absolutely not going to try to hook up with the other Ace."

"Go to work!" you said, howling with laughter as you launched the pillows at him one at a time as he tried to get dressed. 

Then he had a big smile on his face as he picked up his Padres jersey and leaned down to give you one more kiss. "Keep this until I see you again. You looked so cute in it, thought you might want to wear it around."

You took it in one hand and wrapped the other around his neck to pull him close. Just one last kiss to hold you until tomorrow night. "Bye, Bradley."

"See ya, Ace." 

He left in his jeans and undershirt, closing the door softly behind him. And then you were alone with his jersey, eighteen condoms, and the aching need to see him again. So you pushed your apprehension aside and decided to keep fooling yourself into thinking this was all a good decision. 

-------------------------------

"You are distracted," Nat said as Bradley slid into the seat next to hers at lunchtime, his phone in his hand. You'd sent him a photo of you sitting at the desk in your hotel room wearing his jersey. 

"Am I?" he asked, examining every inch of the photo before he started typing a response. 

Nat gasped, and he looked up at her. "It's the sports writer! You went to the game!"

"I did," he said slowly, still typing a message. "And I'm planning on going to game three in Anaheim tomorrow night if I can find a ticket. And I'll probably go to each game after that too, because this is the kind of girl I've been dreaming of my entire life. She's cute, funny, smart, loves sports, and she's great in bed. And I just want to spend my whole day with her." He looked up and smirked.

"Doesn't she live in New York?" Nat asked, and Bradley could already feel his face falling. 

"Yeah," he grunted, hitting send on the text message that said, "Let me take you home where you can wear all my clothes, and then I can take them all off of you."

"Be careful," Nat warned before biting into her sandwich. 

"Weren't you the one who told me you could see me with six kids? Like a soccer player and a ballerina?"

Bradley hated the pitiful look she gave him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

That was the whole fucking thing. Bradley knew you could hurt him. It hurt the night after game one when he went home alone and then didn't hear from you in spite of the fact that he had given you his phone number. And it hurt him to think about you in New York where you lived, or in some other random city covering a sporting event. Because his home was in San Diego. And it would be next spring at the earliest before you'd be back to cover more baseball here. 

"I'm not gonna get hurt, Nat. It's just a fling." As soon as he said the words out loud, he wanted to take them back. They were all wrong, and they made him feel dirty. He'd had flings before, and they didn't feel anything like this. He'd been having occasional casual sex with Shannon for probably a year, and she never lingered in his mind after he threw away the condom and watched her leave. 

"Okay, well maybe you should reconsider going up to Anaheim tomorrow night?" Nat pressed. "I know I encouraged you to see her again, but maybe that's actually not the best idea."

"Nat, I know what I'm-" Bradley looked at his phone as another photo came through. In this one, you were lounging on the hotel bed where he'd spent the night with you wrapped up in his arms, still wearing his jersey. But it was open in the front, and your left hand was on your right breast. 

Ace: I kind of miss you. I keep putting off leaving for my exclusive interview with the Angels' bullpen, because my hotel room smells like you.

"Fuck me," Bradley muttered, rubbing his free hand along his face. 

Nat snatched his phone, and he let her have it. "Wow. Wow. Bradley."

"I know," he groaned. 

"She's hot. And that message is beyond flirtatious."

"Yeah," he said, his voice precariously close to a whine. "Nat, I like her. I like how she writes her articles, and how I know her favorite team now. I liked how she felt in my arms all night."

"You slept over?!" 

Bradley didn't reply. He just took his phone back and saved the photos. Then he sent you another text. 

I'd rather you do an exclusive interview with me instead. I think you'd really appreciate what I have to say.

Ace: By all means, tell me what you would say if I interviewed you, Bradley.

I would say you look sexy as fuck in my jersey right now. And that thing never had it so good.

Ace: You're right. An exclusive with you would be much better.

"Now you're just ignoring me," Nat said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm going to sit with Bob."

Truly, Bradley hadn't heard a word she said. He also hadn't eaten any of his lunch. He had to inhale his sandwich while he walked back to the classroom for the afternoon, because yes, he was distracted. 

-------------------------------

Your boss was really riding you today. Apparently your submissions at 11:58pm after the first two games really had Greg Pfeffer rattled, because that was the first thing he said when you talked to him. The second thing he said was that he needed you in Boston as soon as you wrapped up in California. Apparently there was nobody else on staff he trusted to handle the Bruins head coach as well as you could. 

You knew what your strengths were. You were smart, crafty and organized. But you were also a woman. And sometimes the men you interviewed responded to you differently than they would another man. In a good way. You always seemed to be able to get more information out of players or coaches than anyone else. Just yesterday afternoon you managed to get two of the relief pitchers from the Angels' bullpen to admit they weren't quite sure how to throw to the Padres shortstop.

And then one of them asked you out to dinner. 

Never in a million years would you agree to that. You loved your job too much. And that was immediate grounds for getting fired right there. Honestly, there was no way he really thought you'd agree, right? Also, there was the fact that you'd decided it was better to eat some mediocre takeout back in your hotel room while you texted Bradley. 

But now it was Tuesday morning. Game three was happening tonight. And those texts while you ate dinner had turned into a phone call with Bradley. The two of you ended up talking for two hours before you could hear him trying not to yawn. He had been so sweet, you had to threaten to hang up on him. 

But you could still hear the last thing he said to you. "I should have driven up to see you tonight after work. Even just for an hour. Can't wait for tomorrow, Ace."

And what were you supposed to do now? You had hours to kill before you had to be at Angels Stadium. You were still wearing nothing but Bradley's jersey while you laid in your bed in the hotel across the street from the stadium just outside Los Angeles. You buried your nose in the fabric; it still smelled like him. He smelled so good. There was no way you could wait a few hours for him when just the feel of his Padres jersey brushing your nipples was making you squirm with need. 

You let one hand slide down the curve of your belly, and when you closed your eyes, it was easy to pretend like he was the one touching you. Because his body had been as sure as your own, like he already knew what to do with you. Inch by inch, your fingers moved closer to their goal, and when you started rubbing your clit in slow circles, you thought about Bradley's voice. About the deep, raspy register and the way he called you Ace.

When you touched your breasts with your other hand, you realized your hips were already up off the bed, thrusting slowly as your fingers worked your clit. Images of Bradley's handsome face and flushed cheeks flashed through your mind. The eager look in his eyes when he touched you. The feel of his arms wrapped around you while he slept. The way his breath felt on your neck all night long. The morning rasp of his voice as he seemed to instinctively know he was with you in the still dark hotel room before he had opened his eyes. 

"Oh, god!" you whined as you ran your nose along the collar of his jersey, inhaling his scent in short gasps as you clenched, imagining his heavy cock inside you. The swirl of your fingers became erratic as your hips thrust two more times, and you were coming hard for Bradley. 

When your body collapsed back onto the bed, you were almost startled to open your eyes and realize you were alone. Your loud breathing and soft whimpers were filling the room, but you were too deliciously sated to feel embarrassed about what you'd done. You should probably be getting a shower so you had time to pre-write some of your article about game three. You had emails from Greg about your successful interview article with the Angels' bullpen to respond to. But instead you reached for your phone and texted Bradley.

---------------------------

Ace: How early can you get up here today?

It sounded to Bradley like you still missed him even though he hadn't seen you since very early yesterday morning. He read your exclusive interview five times today already, and he was wondering if you'd indulge him and read parts of it out loud later tonight. And then he groaned as he turned on a shower in the locker room. He'd probably barely make it to the game for the seven o'clock start time, and tomorrow was a work day. 

Tomorrow was also game four. Bradley was the world's worst Padres fan at the moment, praying that the Angels would tie up the series and take this whole thing to seven games. Because he didn't even want to think about what his life was going to look like when the World Series was over and he was no longer running himself between two cities to see you. 

He made the shower a short one, dressing in some snug jeans and a clean Padres shirt before running out to his Bronco. 

I'm leaving work now, Baby. See you at the stadium?

You'd given him the address of the hotel you always stayed at along with your room number just in case he finished work early. You had also managed to procure a ticket in the nosebleeds for him to get inside the ballpark; he just had to give his name at Gate E. But he was going to have to turn around and drive the nearly two hours back to San Diego either late tonight or well before dawn tomorrow. He just hoped you'd want to see him again tomorrow night, because he would do it all again. 

There was traffic. "Fuck," he groaned, actually pulling up onto a curb to go around someone. He ended up fighting through gridlock the whole way up Angels Stadium, cutting back and forth between the highway and backroads. He paid forty dollars to park in the preferred lot next to Gate E, and then he sprinted up to the entrance along with other fans who were hoping to make it to their seats before the first pitch. 

Bradley gave your name and then his own at the window, and he was immediately admitted inside. "Can you tell me where the entrance to the press box is located?" he asked. The security guard gave him a long stare.

"Do you have credentials?"

"Nevermind," Bradley muttered, taking the ticket that was being handed to him and pulling out his phone. His heart was pounding as he listened to someone singing the national anthem while he fumbled trying to make a call. He placed his right hand over his heart, not wanting to be a complete prick as he picked a direction to rush off in as he called your phone. 

"Hi," you said very softly when you answered. He loved your voice. Memories of the late night phone call filled with your soft giggles washed over him. 

"Baby, how do I get to the press box?"

"Unmarked green door near section 133. I'll meet you there."

Bradley hung up and ran around the first base side of the concourse, narrowly dodging some teenage girls and a beer vendor as the singer wrapped up their rendition of the song. And then he saw the green door as it opened, and your eyes met his. 

"Shit," he gasped, feeling his feet slow before speeding up again. You looked perfect, and your beautiful smile was just for him as you let the door close behind you and came running. 

And then you were in his arms with your hands at the back of his neck and your lips pressed to his ear. "Hi," you whispered as you kissed along the side of his face just as the fireworks signalling the start of the game were launched, and the entire stadium was cheering. 

Bradley carried you to the door as you laughed softly. "I liked your exclusive article," he told you. "Read it five times today." That earned him a kiss on the lips, and then he watched you pull your lanyard out of your back pocket to unlock the green door. 

"I think you're my biggest fan," you replied as he carried you inside and set you down. 

"I absolutely am, Ace." Then you were pushing his back against the wall, your lips ghosting over his in the relative private of the vestibule that opened up into the press area buzzing with people. 

"I need you to be very well behaved tonight," you scolded with a little grin that made Bradley lean down and kiss you hard. 

"I will," he promised, loving the needy little sound you made.

You ran your fingers along his neck as you said, "I have an assigned seat in here. And my boss has been on my ass all day. No spilling any beers on me, I don't care how badly you want to lick it off later."

"One time and I have a reputation..."  

You bit your lip and looked up at him over your shoulder as you turned toward the other reporters. The game was about to begin as you pointed to some folding chairs, and he grabbed one on his way past. Then he wedged it in front of the countertop where your computer was sitting, between your chair and the wall. He sat down and then you settled in next to him, right there in his personal space. 

Bradley was smiling at you, and you were smiling right back. "Stop distracting me," you told him, barely turning in time to watch the Angels' pitcher throw the first strike of the game. "You're very distracting."

He draped his arm around your back as you started filling out the pitches on your stat sheet and typing away at the same time. "Thanks for securing that ticket for me. Wouldn't want to miss the chance to see you."

"It was god awful expensive. Even for the worst section in the stadium," you replied without looking at him.

Bradley's jaw dropped. "You paid for it? I thought maybe you got it comped or something. I could have found one online myself."

You just shrugged as the Angels left the field only to be replaced by the Padres for the bottom of the inning. "I got it for half the price you would have been able to."

Bradley knew that was still at least five hundred dollars. "I'll pay you back."

"No," you said softly as you looked down at your keyboard almost like you were embarrassed. Then you shrugged again, a little more aggressively this time. "It's okay."

But Bradley cupped your chin and gently guided your face so you were looking at him, your eyes unsure and hesitant. "I'd have had no problem paying full price. I just wanted to see you."

He ran his thumb along your bottom lip as you asked, "Is that really why you're here though?"

Bradley's brow scrunched in confusion as he examined your face. He knew the game was going on, but you weren't fighting him about missing a pitch or two. "Why else would I battle through traffic for two hours?"

You swallowed hard and whispered, "Because you wanted to fuck me again."

Bradley's stomach dropped. That was so far from the truth. "No, Ace. I wanted to spend a little time with you." You were silent now, but you weren't looking away as he added, "Sleeping with you is incredible, sure. But that's not why I'm here. I don't have to drive four hours round trip to get laid. I have six pack abs. But in order to see you tonight, it required driving up from San Diego. And when I tell you that I don't care if you invite me back to your hotel room tonight or not, I mean it."

Then you were kissing him and tugging him closer to you by the front of his shirt. And the Angels must have scored, because the rest of the stadium erupted in near deafening cheers. But you still didn't care to look away and find out exactly what was going on. You just kept kissing him, and your hand skimmed up his thigh, and Bradley had to pull away. 

"Ace, if you keep doing that, you'll make me look like a liar," he gasped as the cheering finally started to lessen. 

You chased his lips with yours and asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed you one more time and then leaned back in his seat, glancing down at the fly of his jeans where he was plainly a little hard for you. His voice was a little tight as he adjusted himself. "Truly, sleeping with you is not my priority tonight, but you turn me on."

Your hand was still resting on his thigh as you turned toward your computer and typed one handed. "How embarrassing... logging in to SportsCenter to watch a replay while I'm sitting right here in Anaheim." But you were smiling, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on top of yours while he caught his breath. It took you a minute to get your score sheet updated correctly, and then you were focusing on the players once more. But your hand still brushed his leg, and your fingers occasionally laced with his as you watched the game. 

Occasionally you murmured something about a stolen base or an earned run average, but Bradley was barely watching anything except you. All he knew was he hoped the Angels won. All he wanted was to stay with you as long as possible. 

When you kissed him sweetly during the seventh inning stretch, one of the other writers turned and said, "You brought your boyfriend again, New York?"

"No, Jack. He's actually my intern," you replied smoothly. The older man just looked between you and Bradley and then turned around.

"Intern?" Bradley mumbled. "Damn. I got demoted. Someone called me your boyfriend the other night." You started laughing as Bradley said, "What's next? Your dog walker?"

"I don't have a dog," you told him, smiling at him brightly and squeezing his thigh.

He laughed, too. "You want me to be your personal food fetcher?"

"Now that is something I could actually use."

Bradley was on his feet immediately, filling a plate from the catering stations and grabbing a bottle of water. 

-----------------------------

Nothing felt as rushed tonight. Sure, you kept pulling Bradley in for kisses in the parking lot on the way to his retro Ford Bronco, but you didn't feel the need to immediately drag him back to your room. Not when he looked so gorgeous in the moonlight. Not when you felt golden inside since the Angels had managed to pull out a win. There would be at least five games. You were hoping you had at least two more chances to see him.

You shivered as he opened the door for you. "Bradley," you said with a laugh. "I told you my hotel is just on the other side of the parking lot. It's the hotel I always stay in."

"I'll drive you over," he whispered, kissing your cheek as he helped you in. Then you gave him an appraising look as he closed the door and jogged around to the other side. Was he really not planning on joining you in your room? The idea sent a jolt of sadness through you. But tomorrow was Wednesday, a work day for him.

"Bradley?" you asked softly as he pulled out of the spot. You could already see your hotel from the end of the aisle, and he turned to smile at you. 

"Yeah, Baby?"

You closed your eyes and whispered, "Do you have to leave right away? I want you to come up."

He didn't answer immediately. He pulled up to the entrance and put the Bronco in park and ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish I could say no to you. Just to prove my point."

When you leaned across the console and said, "I don't want you to say no to me right now," he shifted back into drive. You giggled as he pulled forward a little quickly and whipped into an empty parking space. 

And then you were walking backwards through the lobby, coaxing Bradley along as he said, "I shouldn't be coming up with you. I have work in the morning. And I told you I'm just here for your company." But he was smiling, and he was the one to push the button to call the elevator. 

Then it arrived, and the two of you were the only ones inside when the door closed. You tucked yourself against his chest when he opened his arms to you. "Just come up for a little bit?"

"A little bit," he confirmed, kissing the top of your head. "While you write your piece?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kissing his neck. "Or you could stay for a while."

His arms were warm and so solid around you, and you heard him murmur, "I could stay for a while."

You pulled him down the hallway, laughing at the dopey grin on his face. "You could stay longer. We're only going to get a handful of these nights together. And I like it when my hotel room smells like you the next day."

He snatched the key card from your hand and unlocked the door, ushering you inside with his lips on yours. He tossed the key somewhere on the floor as the door closed behind him, and you dropped your computer bag with a soft thud. 

"This is a nice room," he whispered against your lips as he untucked your blouse and got one big hand on your lower back. 

"You didn't even see it yet," you gasped as he started sucking on your neck.

"I'll look at it later."

And then you were under him on your bed, both of you fully clothed except for your shoes. Bradley was running his lips and his mustache along your neck at such a leisurely pace, you were afraid you might actually melt. 

"Is that my jersey?" he asked, his gaze moving to the pillow next to your head. 

"Yeah," you whined as his tongue met the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I wore it last night and this morning."

Bradley groaned, and then you felt his hands at your waist and your hips. "I'm a weak man. A very weak man when it comes to you, Ace." And then his groan just got louder as you reached down for his hands and guided them slowly to the button of your jeans. He made quick work of it and the zipper, easing his fingers inside the waistband of your underwear. "Baby, you have an article to finish." 

He kissed along below your belly button, and you whimpered as you said, "I'll finish it in time. I promise." And then he was yanking your pants down and pressing his lips to your bare thighs as he worked your jeans and underwear all the way down your legs and off. He settled in with his face buried in your pussy, just like last time. Just like the first time. You'd never been with a man so willing and eager to do this.

"You're fucking soaked," he moaned, lapping up along your slit before separating you with his nose and kissing around your opening. 

"Bradley!" you whined, because he was already so invested. So you let him go for a few minutes, and it felt good. So good, you were almost convinced he could get you off this way if he took enough time to do it. But after a few more minutes, you tugged gently on his hair. When he met your eyes with his lips on your clit, he looked annoyed. 

He released you, much to your immediate displeasure, and asked, "Why won't you let me get you off like this? You stopped me the other night, too."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the ceiling before you answered. "It'll take forever."

Bradley sighed, and a second later, a jolt of pleasure rushed through you. When you looked down your body at him, he was swirling one long finger around your clit. "I'm in no rush. Other than you needing to submit your article in an hour and a half, we've got time."

"You must like a challenge."

Bradley raised one eyebrow at you, but his finger never stopped that slow, delicious swirl that had you bending one leg and running your foot along his side. He kissed the inside of your knee before he looked at you and said, "This is not a challenge. This is a privilege, Baby. You just tell me what feels good, and I'll get you there."

You couldn't be sure if it was his words or the way he was touching you, but when your pussy clenched gently around nothing, you were whimpering his name and agreeing. And then his mouth was trailing the softest kisses along your folds. You could tell you were dripping wet by the way his tongue glided so smoothly along. And then Bradley reached around your hips and tilted your body up at a slightly different angle that had his nose bumping your clit while he ate you.

He kept changing things up. A soft roll of his tongue would turn into a nibble. And then the nibbles would turn into suction with just the most beautiful amount of pressure. But his mustache was just fucking special, the way it felt rough and yet so fucking necessary. 

"Fuck," you whined softly. He was so good. But you'd felt this slow build before, and inevitably your partners ended up getting tired or annoyed by how long it took you. Bradley's movements were sure and steady, however. And now he was plucking at your clit with his lips, and your thighs tightened around his head.

"Good?" he asked, breathing a little heavy. 

"Yes! Don't stop!" you praised, your hips rocking with each little grab and release of his lips. He squeezed your hips as if he was letting you know he would get you off like he promised, and then he swirled his tongue slowly around your clit before licking a long stripe down with the tip of his tongue. 

"Do that again," you demanded, your voice barely a gasp. And once again he treated you to that swirl of his tongue. "Fuck." And the long stripe downward. "Oh."

"Again?" he asked, his voice raspy and amused.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged as you said, "Don't you dare stop, Bradley." But he was already back at it with that perfect tempo and his prickly mustache. This time, when he licked down, he kissed his way back up, and you made the most desperate sound. "Again."

"I got you, Ace."

His tongue. His voice. His hands. His hair. His ridiculous nickname for you. "Oh god damn!" you whined, your voice breaking as you keened. The words and sounds were burning at the back of your throat before they could be released in a way that made any sense at all. And you rolled your hips slowly against his mouth as he cupped your body. You were close. So close. So-

"Yes!" you nearly screamed as tears stung at your eyes. Bradley grunted as you pulled his hair but he didn't stop. You were practically riding his face with one leg thrown over his shoulder when you felt yourself gush. His face was still buried in your pussy, but when he finally looked up at you, he was panting. 

"Ace," he groaned, his face all wet from you. He was licking his lips like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted in his life, and even though you were still enjoying some little aftershocks, you needed more.

"I want you to fuck me," you said softly, and then his wet lips and chin were on yours. And you did taste pretty incredible as he bucked his fully clothed body against your core. 

"I won't last," he grunted. "Not after that. God, you're perfect."

Your body felt flushed all over from his compliment. "I don't care. I just want to feel you."

"You need to finish your article," he said, but he was already sitting back on his knees between your legs and unzipping his pants. He winced as he pulled himself free, his tip an angry, swollen red.

"Oh," you gasped, already clenching again at the sight of him. You scampered out of bed and nearly tripped on your way to your suitcase. "Eighteen condoms," you muttered, digging around until you found one of the double packs. 

A few seconds later, you were rolling one of them down his length. He'd barely gotten his pants pulled down to his thighs by the time you were bending over the bed for him. And then he was filling you up, and his arms kind of caged you in. And his mustache was rubbing your neck. And your actual first name was on his lips. And you were thinking about things you knew you shouldn't. You were thinking about how much it was going to hurt when you left for the east coast.

------------------------------

Bradley would have been embarrassed that he only lasted two minutes, but you didn't seem to mind. "I'll be better for round two. You just really wound me up."

You bit your lip and smiled at him as he removed the condom. "Going down on me made you hot?"

He looked up at you like you had two heads. "Yeah. Hell yeah. I'd spend the whole night doing that if you'd let me."

You looked ridiculously pleased with yourself as you grabbed his Padres jersey off the bed and slipped it on. "Maybe tomorrow night," you said playfully as you walked toward the desk and grabbed your bag on the way. "You coming?"

Once again, Bradley had you perched on his lap while you finished your article. You were cutting it very close tonight, and he was helping you proofread as you wrote. "You misspelled umpire," he whispered, pointing to your computer screen.

"Thanks," you replied softly, correcting your error. 

He didn't want to distract you at all, but he wasn't sure how long you wanted him to stay. It was three minutes until midnight. He was at least an hour and a half away from home. He needed to be at work in eight hours. But the way you were acting like he belonged with you was keeping his mouth shut.

You submitted your article at exactly midnight and then you turned to face him. "Are you ready for round two?" you whispered, grinning. "Round one with you was already way better than when I got off earlier today."

Bradley froze with you in his arms. "What the hell happened earlier today?" he asked, hating that he immediately felt a little jealous. 

But you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips brushing his as you said, "I thought about you while I got myself off."

"Fuuuck," he groaned, wrapping you tighter in his arms. "That's hot, Ace."

Bradley was still hanging out of his jeans, and his cock was rubbing your thigh as he got hard for you. You were running your fingers through his hair as you rubbed your pussy along his length. Then you reached behind you on the counter and held up another condom, and when Bradley nodded, you opened it. And then he was inside you again. 

You went slow, with breathless fluttering kisses along his face. He tucked his hands inside the jersey, wanting to feel as much of your smooth skin as he could. "At least two more games," you whispered. "I have the Angels to thank for winning tonight."

Bradley laughed softly, bringing his hands up to your breasts but keeping his eyes on yours. "Let's keep this thing going."

"Mmhmm," you moaned. And then you kissed him like you and he had been doing this for years already. As if you knew what he needed. And maybe you did, because he was starting to think he needed you. 

"Ace, Baby." You were coming for him, absolutely coming undone in his arms as you moved your body. He wanted to tell you to make it last all night, but it was too good. And he was right there, too.

As you pushed his hair back from his forehead and let your cheek find his shoulder, your phone rang. Bradley jumped a bit, but you didn't seem concerned. 

"It's probably just Greg. My boss," you said with a kiss to his cheek. 

"Okay," Bradley grunted as you stood and left him to dispose of the condom. 

"Greg," you said calmly when you answered the phone. And then Bradley heard someone yelling at you. He was on his feet, brow scrunched in concern. This guy was loud, and you didn't even have him on speaker phone. And he wasn't letting you get a word in. You just hummed in agreement as you paced around the room, but when Bradley caught your eye, you headed back over. 

"It's okay," you told him with your hand over the speaker of your phone. "He doesn't like my nearly late submissions," you said with an eye roll and then a smile. Then you gently pushed Bradley down into the chair again before pacing away. And he was suddenly inadvertently privy to your email inbox.

At the top was your article submission receipt which you were currently telling your boss was time stamped for midnight, and that you didn't actually need him to call you from home in New York where it was three in the morning. Then Bradley's eyes fell to no fewer than six emails that had all been sent from different media outlets this evening. 

g.rutherford@msnsports.com   Opportunities With MSN Sports

tasha.park@majorleaguesports.net   Sports Writer Positions Open Now

jmv12@cbssports.com   Looking For a New Opportunity?

a.archer@velocityreport.com   We Have the Perfect Position For You

peter.stephens@barstoolsports.com   We Need You -  Join Out Team!

jheath@philainquire.com   Join the Sports Team With Highest Salaried Positions

"Damn, Ace," Bradley muttered, eyes scanning everything he could see without scrolling down further. But something told him there would be more of the same if he did. Everyone wanted you. 

"Sorry," you muttered, having ended your call without Bradley even noticing. And now you looked a little apprehensive.

"Your boss was yelling at you," he remarked as he stood.

"Oh," you said with a little shrug. "He's always like that. Ranting and raving is how he operates."

Bradley glanced back at your computer screen briefly. "Well I wish he wasn't shouting at you. Your articles are always the best."

You clearly wanted to say something, but you planted your hands on your hips and tapped your foot on the floor. "Bradley... I know it's late, and you have to get back home for work and everything... Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He didn't have to think about it. "Yes."

And then your expression melted into a smile as you climbed into bed, still wearing his jersey. Bradley watched you pat the spot next to you, and he zipped up his jeans and climbed in as well. 

As you yanked the covers up over both of you, Bradley pulled you close so your back was pressed to his front. "Will you come back tomorrow night? If I can get you a ticket?" you asked him so softly, he held his breath to make sure that was all you had to say.

As long as you were in southern California, he would come to you. "I'll be back up no matter what, Ace." And after you kissed his hands and laced your fingers with his, he added, "I can't believe you thought this right here wasn't my favorite part about being with you."

Your breathing was evening out, and Bradley thought perhaps you were already asleep. But then you said, "This is my favorite part, too."

-------------------------

She asked him to stay until she fell asleep. Oh, Ace. He's a mess already. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016