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#top gun au
bloatedandalone04 · 8 months
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If It Makes You Happy - Part 1
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➪the one where you give bradley your heart and he breaks it.
Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, unprotected sex, age gap, 18+, swearing, alcohol consumption, hair pulling, small pain kink ig, jealousy
Word Count: 5.3k | Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“God, you feel so good,” Bradley’s deep voice sent chills down your spine. Your hands trailed up his back and gripped his shoulders as his hips hit yours over and over again. “Fuck, baby.”
His words, mixed with his raspy voice, went right to your core, where you greedily sucked him in deeper.
Bradley groaned loudly, dipping his head down to suck on your collar bone. He wasn’t usually one for hickeys at his age, but he found himself loving to both give them and receive them ever since you and he first started this whole situation.
“Just like that,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut tightly when you felt his lips pepper kisses all over your neck. 
“Like this?” He mutters as he fucked into you, making you see stars behind your closed eyes.
“Yes,”
One of his hands reaches down to wrap your leg around his waist, making him reach even deeper in you. “You like that, baby?” 
“Yes,” you say again, sliding one hand up to tug on his hair. “Please.”
Bradley grunted at your relentless tugging, the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair adding to the overall pressure currently building within him. “Fuck, you’re so hot,”
If he thought you were hot, he must not be aware just how damn near edible he is. 
He continued to suck mark after mark onto the skin of your neck, all while his hips rocked into yours with a friction that had you digging your nails into his bicep. One thing you both discovered was that Bradley had a bit of a thing for pain. He loved when you marked his skin with your nails or bit on his bottom lip whenever you kissed, but the thing he loved most was when you tugged on his hair in a death grip. The sore scalp and minor headaches he’d endure later on were so worth it.
So, as you raked your nails down his arm, Bradley just grunted against your neck, driving himself impossibly deeper into your inviting walls. “Yeah,” he breathed out, lifting his head so his lips brushed against yours. “I’m close, too, baby.” 
After doing this with you for nearly half a year, Bradley knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew how to get you off in every way possible, and he knew when you were close to that sweet peak of relief. 
Using the hand that wasn’t keeping him propped up above you, he presses the pad of his middle finger against your clit, which was still swollen from when he went down on you earlier. 
The added stimulation had you crying out, your fingers tightening in his hair as you came for the second time since you arrived at his house. “There you go, give it to me,” he muttered and his words somehow managed to prolong your high. “So good, letting me fuck you when we’re supposed to be with our friends.” 
As he continued to fuck into your warm and inviting core, you keep your hand tangled tightly in his hair and tug a bit harder, knowing that it would add to his pleasure. 
You were right, as he groaned against your mouth, a mantra of “Fuck,” leaving his kiss swollen lips when he came.
He fucks his release deeper into you, your greedy walls taking everything he gave, before he comes to a stop and lays his body gently down on top of yours. 
You release his hair and softly massage the top of his head, smoothing out the messy strands. As you bask in the afterglow, Bradley presses kisses to your bruised skin, a faint smirk on his lips at the sight of your hickey covered neck.
“I’m gonna miss this for the next six weeks,” he confessed and you had to calm your racing heart before it jumped to any conclusions.  
“What? Fucking me?” You ask with a quiet laugh, moving your hand to trace your fingers along his sweaty shoulder. 
“Fucking you,” he confirmed with a nod, making your smile fade a bit as he continued, “Kissing you, falling asleep with you in my arms. Just you in general.”
That made your smile reappear, and you moved his head so he was looking into your eyes. “You’re going to miss me? Or my body?” 
Bradley pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “You,” he answered before he was standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”
You take his hand and let him pull you up and off of his comfy bed. “Where are we going?”
He steadies you in his arms, a proud smirk on his lips at your inability to stand up on your own because of the number he did on you. “Since we’re already half an hour late, why don’t we make our friends wait a bit longer?” 
You smile up at him, letting him guide you towards his bathroom. “What did you have in mind?”
He kisses you deeply, his free hand tangling into your messy hair. “Come join me in the shower and find out,”
-
You and Bradley showed up a whole hour after your promised arrival time, but neither of you cared too much.
After your shower, you complained that you didn’t have anything you needed at his house, and his reply was one that you were still thinking about now, “You know, it’d be a lot easier if you just kept some of your stuff at my place. You’re here all the time, yet you’re still always unprepared for these kinds of things,” he was referring to your complaint that all of your makeup was at your house, and you had just scrubbed your face clean of the natural look you applied before you got there.
“What, you’re okay with me keeping my makeup all over your bathroom counter so I can reapply it once you’re done fucking it off me?” You had asked, half joking and half totally serious. 
“I don’t care, I’m barely in there, anyway. The room could use some personality,” was his response, and it had your mind thinking about things you didn’t usually allow yourself to dwell on for too long. 
Nearly six months you’ve been sleeping with him. Six months. 
And it’s been five months since you broke rule number one and fell for him. 
It was simple, easy, casual. 
You started out as nothing. You were a friend of Jake’s, and that in itself was a surprise, so it wasn’t much of a shock when he invited you to go with him to the Hard Deck. When Bradley arrived at the bar a few minutes after you and Jake did, he didn’t pay much attention to the girl under the blond’s arm.
Jake was definitely a ladies man, so to see him with his hand wrapped around a girl’s waist wasn’t all that surprising. He played pool with Nat for a bit before making his way over to the bar, barely acknowledging Jake as he ordered a beer. “Hey, Rooster!” The man greeted, his own beer sloshing around in the glass as he moved towards him. 
“Hangman,” Bradley muttered, hoping Penny would hurry up and hand him his drink. 
“I want to introduce you to my friend, Y/n,” 
That had Bradley turning his head in slight curiosity, a little shocked to hear that the girl currently stuck to his side was only a friend. When his eyes meet yours, his stoic expression drops. 
You were beautiful, to put it simply. 
He sweet talked his way into getting you to play pool with him, and later ended the night with you sprawled out on the back seat of his Bronco. He found himself under you, on top of you and in you several nights out of the week after that, and now the whole arrangement was about to be hitting the half a year mark. 
It started out casual; he’d be there when you needed him, and you’d be there when he needed you. 
The decision to not label it was a mutual one as you both believed it would be the best way to go about things. 
Only a month in was when you offered to sleep together without protection. You confessed that he was currently the only person you were seeing, and he also admitted that he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else as well. 
As the months went on, Bradley began getting more affectionate with you, especially in public and in front of the other guys. While you were sure you were falling for him, he had also been acting as if he was more than just a friend with benefits. 
He offered you to sleep over every time you found yourself underneath him well into the night, and he woke you up each day with a good morning kiss and smile.
He lets you wear his clothes, use the appliances in his kitchen and even asks you to stay for dinner most nights. 
All in all, he was the perfect boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He just acted like it. 
There was a bit of an age difference, with you being twenty five and him pushing thirty five. While he had never explicitly said it bothered him, and he sure as hell never acted like he had a problem with it, you assumed that was why he had yet to make it official with you. 
You weren’t reading too much into this, right? You couldn’t be. 
He was all over you when you were around, and texted you constantly when you were away from him. He wanted you to feel comfortable wearing his clothes, didn’t care if you ate the leftovers he was saving, and had told you on more than one occasion to start keeping some of your things at his house. 
And you had started to, kind of. 
Your phone charger was plugged in next to his, a few of your shirts and jeans were currently in the washing machine along with his own, and your beloved hoodie you got from your uni days had a seemingly permanent place on the left side of his bed.
There was no way you had been given the wrong impression, right?
Right?
As soon as you entered the crowded bar, your face makeup free and one of his old vintage shirts tucked into your jean shorts, Bradley was pulling you with him to where Nat stood next to the pool table. “Hey, Rooster,” she greeted as she handed him a cue, nodding in your direction. “Rooster’s girlfriend.”
You expected him to correct her, but he surprised you by just shaking his head and laughing quietly, pulling you closer to his side. Your face heated up as you met Jake’s eyes from across the room, and he smiled as he waved you over to where he was sitting at the bar. 
“Hey, I’ll be back in a sec,” you tell Bradley, and he leans down so he could hear you better in the loud bar. “I’m going to go get a drink, you want one?”
“Just one,” he answered before placing a kiss on your lips. “Hurry back so you can watch me kick Nat’s ass.”
Nat slapped his arm as you walked away, a dumb grin on your lips as you made your way to the bar. Jake welcomed you over with an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your cheek. 
“Hey, Jake,” you say as you rest your hand on his chest. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he answered, eyeing something behind you with a sly smirk. “Don’t look now, but your guy friend is glaring at me as if you’re his girlfriend or something.” 
Despite his words, you turn and look at Bradley anyway. His brown eyes were on the two of you, furrowed and clouded over with what you think is jealousy. You held back a forming grin, your face heating up at the fact that he was getting jealous at the sight of you with another guy. Maybe it made you seem selfish, but you loved that he didn’t want you to be around other guys in the way you are currently with Jake. 
“He does realize that I’m the one who introduced him to you, right?” The blond asks and you just shake your head, leaning over the bar and ordering two beers. “You’re not official, right?”
You clench your jaw at the reminder and shake your head, “No,”
Jake takes a swig of beer as he runs his hand up and down your back in a friendly kind of gesture. “Then I don’t understand why he’s coming over here right now,”
At that, you turn just in time to see Bradley step into your space, his hand on your arm as he tugged you away from Jake. “Hands to yourself, Hangman,” he says coldly, eyeing the other man with a suspicious glance. “We both know I’m the one who’s taking her home after this.” 
His words dripped with a sense of possessiveness, and the whole thing had a surge of lust flow through your body. “My intentions are pure, Rooster,” Jake winked at the two of you as Bradley pulled you into his side. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 
“Is that right?” Bradley questioned but didn’t really care for the answer. 
“Relax, Bradley,” you murmur, handing him one of the beers. He didn’t take his eyes off Jake as he blindly took it from you, the cool bottle a nice contrast against his heated skin. “I came here with you, remember? That means I’m leaving with you, too.”
That had him meeting your eyes with a proud smirk on his lips, seemingly satisfied with your words. He gives Jake an over exaggerated shrug before pulling you along with him. “Later, Hangman,”
He tugged you over to the pool table once again, his hand sliding from your arm to your hip, where he squeezed slightly. You settle against his side, this position feeling more like where you were supposed to be than just an embrace. 
Staying true to his word, Bradley took you back home a few hours later, and you spent the rest of the night wrapped around him in more ways than one, and giving in to his quiet plead of, “Stay with me tonight,”
It was the fifth night in a row he’s asked you to do that, and the fifth time you’ve said yes without hesitation. 
-
The next morning, Bradley woke you up by going down on you until he had you coming twice. He didn’t ask you to return the favor, simply muttering something about “Needing his fix to start the day,” 
You help him pack any last minute things, before driving him to the dock in your car. This would be his second deployment since this whole ordeal started, and this time you were completely in love with him. You weren’t sure how you would cope with not seeing him for six weeks, and you wanted him to know that you’d be thinking about him the whole time he was gone. 
As you stood with him on the dock, you gazed up into his brown eyes with a sense of longing. “Thanks for coming with me this time,” he spoke quietly, making you grin up at him. 
The first deployment was just two weeks into your situationship, and since you weren’t really all too familiar with everything that made up the marvel of a man named Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed home and sent him a simple text that wished him luck.  
“Of course,” you reply, inching closer to him when his hands found home on your waist. Your eyes trailed over the scars on his cheek, and you refrained from reaching out to trace them with your finger. “I’m going to be thinking about you every single day, you know.”
This was it.
Bradley smiled down at you, leaning in and running his nose along the edge of your jaw. “You will?” He hummed, pressing various kisses to the marks he had left on your neck the night prior. When you nodded, he pulled back and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding your lips to his in a lingering kiss. “I bet I know what part of me you’ll miss most.”
He was teasing you, but you were about to put your heart in the palm of his hand. “I’ll miss all of you,” 
Bradley grinned and took you into his arms in a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, too,”
From his hunched over position, your mouth was right next to his ear, meaning he was at the perfect height for you to whisper, “I think I’m falling for you,” 
There it was.
You had given him your heart. It was his to take, and you supposed it was also his to break, as it was like a switch flipped inside him.
His body tensed against yours, and you immediately regret ever opening your mouth. Before you could take your words back, Bradley pulls away and keeps his hands on your waist as he mutters, “What?”
You felt your eyes burn instantly, your lower lip threatening to quiver as you stared up at him. “I..” You weren’t sure what to say. You had clearly mistaken your role in his life, and you wished you had never said anything. You had completely fucked things up. But there was no going back now. “I’m falling for you, Bradley.” 
His eyes flicker between yours before he stands back up to his full height. “That’s what I thought you said,” he muttered under his breath. You feel your heart fall as he steps away from you, his arms dropping back to his sides. “Fuck, I wish you didn’t tell me that.”
You quickly begin building walls up around your heart as you stand your ground, swallowing harshly as you ask, “Why not?” 
Bradley’s eyes turn cold as he answers you, “Because that wasn’t what this was supposed to be,”
It was as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. 
You shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself, glancing around at the many people who were sending their loved ones off with sad smiles and hugs. “I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel, Bradley,” you say quietly and he just scoffs. 
“We were just having fun, Y/n,” he says and grabs his bag that he had set down on the dock when you arrived. He slings it over his shoulder and places his aviators over his eyes. “That’s all this was. You’re ten years younger than me, what did you think was going to happen here? We’re in two different places in our lives, and I thought that was obvious.”
You break eye contact as the first of many tears begin to fall. “It wasn’t,” was all you managed to say before he was sighing heavily and backing away from you. 
“If that’s the case, sorry for leading you on,” he said as he turned and began walking up the ramp. He had only walked about four steps before he stopped with a heavy sigh. He turned to glance back at you, seeing that you hadn’t moved from your spot, and you hadn’t taken your eyes off the wooden dock below you. “Look, I don’t want to leave it like this, but I need to go. I’ll call you if I can, okay? We’ll talk more about it when I come back.”
You just nod, not bothering to lift your head and meet his eyes.
Without another word being shared between the two of you, Bradley steps onto the carrier deck and waits to be shipped off. Though he knows he shouldn’t, he glances up at the dock and his heart falls at what he saw. 
You were still where he left you, but that was when he finally caught sight of the tears that were steadily rolling down your face. You did a pretty good job at hiding them when he was right next to you, but now that he was far away, you had lifted your head and he was given a clear view of your pretty face as you cried. 
He realized then that he had royally fucked up, and he needed to make things right before he left for a month and a half. 
Bradley watched as an elderly woman gently placed her hand on your arm, surely thinking that you were crying because you were sad about having to say goodbye to your loved one, when in reality he had just broken your heart. 
As you began making your way through the crowd and towards your car, he cursed under his breath and fumbled around in his bag for his phone, regret filling his body as he clicked on your contact. 
He watched as you stopped walking through the crowd and pulled out your phone, and to his surprise, you actually answered. “What?” You sounded so sad, and it only made him further regret the words he said to you.
It wasn’t even the truth, and he hoped you would give him the chance to explain that to you. He needed to be quick, though, because he knew he would quickly lose service once the carrier started moving. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he rasped out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the way you turned to look over at him. He tried to meet your eyes as he continued, “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s talk about this now.”
You furrow your brows and shake your head. “There’s nothing to talk about, Bradley,”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted, feeling his heart drop once the carrier started to pull away from the dock. 
“There’s not,” you muttered. “I mistook my place, disrespected your boundaries and that’s on me. Completely my fault.”
“No, that’s- no,” he begged but he knew he didn’t have enough time to get through to you. “Please, just, wait for me. I’ll call you as soon as I can, we’ll talk and-”
“And what, Bradley?” You cut him off. “You said it yourself; I’m too young for you. Too immature. It’s best if we just end this now so we can both stop wasting our time.”
“You’re not a waste of time,” he said quickly, watching as your form slowly began to disappear the further he drifted away from you. “I’ve loved every second I’ve spent with you, and I think I’m-” 
Before he could also give you his heart, you had broken it with a simple sentence, “You’re cutting out,” and you were, too, but somehow your last few words were crystal clear. “I know where we stand now. Goodbye, Bradley.”
And then you hung up. And he was left to drop his hand back down to his side in defeat as he silently prayed he was able to call you within the next few days. 
-
A whopping six hours had passed since Bradley had been shipped off when he found himself missing you. 
His arms ached to be wrapped around you, his lips missed the taste of yours, and his heart longed with a sense of need to know that you would still be his once he returned home. 
His.
Bradley had to laugh. 
You weren’t his.
He hadn’t managed to step up and ask you to take things to the next level yet before he was ruining everything. He hadn’t given a possible real relationship with you a chance.
God, he was so mean, belittling you as if you deserved to be treated with anything other than respect and kindness. He acted like a proper asshole, and he deserved to feel all the things he felt right now. 
Shame. Guilt. Regret. Anger. He felt all of it all at once, and he hated himself for hurting you.
Had he known the sad sight of you crying because of him was all he needed to get his act straight, he would’ve told you he loved you when you confessed to falling for him back on the dock. 
Bradley loves you. Why did it take losing you for him to realize that?
A couple weeks passed before he was allowed the opportunity to call you, and as he put your number in, he found himself praying to anyone that may have been listening that you would answer. 
He felt a little more than deflated when it rang five times before he was sent to your voicemail. He listened to your sweet voice ask him to leave you a message, and he did, but he also knew you wouldn’t be able to call him back once you listened to the message.
If you listened to it at all.
“Hey, sweet girl. I… God, I wish you picked up, but I understand why you didn’t. A few weeks ago…fuck, I was so out of line, baby, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I’m just a fucking idiot when it comes to this kind of thing and I threw all my issues on you, and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley waited a beat or two before he continued, “I’m so sorry. I miss you, and I know I have no right to ask this of you, but I hope I can see you on the day I get back to San Diego. I only have just under a month to go, and I can’t wait to see you and talk about this in person, if you’ll let me.”
He felt pathetic, leaving you a sappy message you couldn’t even reply to. 
“I’m sorry, again, and I hope things have been going well for you,” he ended the message after that, reluctantly hanging up and returning back to his bunk, where he threw himself down on the bed that felt too empty without you by his side. 
-
It went on like that for weeks. 
Bradley would go to sleep, wake up, complete whatever he needed to do for the day, then do it all over again, all while thinking about you. 
He was counting down the days until he was able to return home and back to you, but he wasn’t sure he even had the right to seek you out once he was off the carrier. 
He had called you again a few days ago, and you had once again given him your voicemail. Two calls in, and it was silent on your end. He missed you terribly, missed your flowery scent, your kind smiles, your voice, and the feeling of your body tucked against his. 
Yeah, he missed the sex, but he missed you more. All of you. 
You were so close to being his. You had put your heart on your sleeve, completely his for the taking, and he rejected you. Like a fucking idiot. 
He knew he would get an earful from Nat once he got back, and he was honestly looking forward to it. He knew he deserved it, and he couldn’t think of a better person to call him out on his bullshit than his best friend. 
Another week flew by after he successfully completed his mission, and he was a few quick hours away from the same dock he had left you on a month and a half ago. 
While he didn’t expect you to be there to greet him once he stepped off the carrier, he still felt his heart break a bit as he finally let it all sink in. A few feet from where he stood now, he had broken your heart.
He dropped his bag onto the dock below him as he pulled his phone out and called you, once again disappointed when he was sent to your voicemail. Before he could stop himself, he left you a message, “Hey, it’s me. I’m back home now, and I still really want to see you. I want to try to explain myself and why I said the things I did. I’m still so sorry, Y/n/n, really, I am,” he ended it after that, and used the last bit of battery he had left to call Nat in hopes she would come and pick him up. 
Like he expected, Nat did end up chewing him out during the entire ride home, and even in his own driveway. Bradley just sat there and took it, knowing he deserved every harsh dig that was thrown at him and more. 
When she angrily reached over and hugged him in the car, she promptly told him to get out and that she would see him later at the Hard Deck. 
Bradley unlocked the front door and stepped into his house, the silence being the last thing he wanted to be met with. You were in your twenties, you were young and loud and cheerful, he had gotten so used to how chaotic his life had become since you entered it. It was chaotic in the best way, and he missed the loud laughs you would emit as he carried you down the hall to his room, or when the two of you would skip out on beers with your friends to watch a comedy in his living room instead. 
He sulked his way to his room, and his heart deflated even more at the sight he was met with. Nat had gone on about how she had to use the key Bradley gave her to let you into his house while he was away, and how she was confused about that until now. 
Gone was your phone charger and old movies you kept by the TV he had on his dresser, and he was sure your clothes in his laundry room were picked up as well. The left side of his bed was bare of your uni hoodie, a thing he had a strong amount of fondness for.
Coming home to a quiet house was one thing, but walking into a bedroom that lacked any personality at all was something else. The small things you kept in there made it appear more lived in, more cared for than he had ever tried to make it look, and he once again was reminded just how much he had fucked up.
You made him happy, were the reason he looked forward to the end of his days because it would likely mean he would end them with you, like he had been for the good part of the last six months.
Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he threw his bag onto the bed. He plugged his phone in before heading into the bathroom, his eyes glancing at the spotless counter. A few of your face washes and creams had taken up space next to the sink the last time he was in here, but now they were gone too. 
He quickly realized how much he loved having your things at his house. God, did he miss you. 
After the quickest shower of his life, Bradley got dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and unplugged his phone. It had only been charged up to thirty four percent, but he didn’t plan on going on the device too much once he arrived at the Hard Deck.
He grabbed his keys and wallet before he started up his beloved Bronco, typing out a quick text to you in hopes you’d actually answer him this time.
You’re ignoring me and that’s fine, but I hope I’ll be able to see you at the Hard Deck tonight? If not, maybe we can meet up later and I can explain everything to you. Please. I don’t want it to end like this.
He didn’t want it to end at all, but especially not with you thinking you weren’t all he could ever want. 
To his surprise, you had actually gotten back to him pretty fast, and your response had him quickly backing out of his driveway and speeding down the road towards the Hard Deck. 
Y/n/n: Seems as though luck is on your side today. Glad you’re back home and safe. I guess I’ll see you tonight.
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neentarts · 9 months
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idk if you can tell, but I like convex a lot //
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tongue-like-a-razor · 11 months
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 4
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Did I write an angstier version of this chapter and then rewrite the last half entirely because y'all deserve a fluffy read? Yes, yes I did. Thank you for all your wonderful ideas! I've got them all lined up for future chapters hehehe So don't be blaming me for the heartache you're inflicting upon yourselves XD Muah!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Swearing, suggestive language, protective Jake
WC: 2000+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist
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“You have a what?” Jake exclaims, nearly choking on his coffee.
“A date,” you repeat, smiling giddily at both him and Bradley. “We met at pub night last week and we’ve been texting.”
“Texting?” Jake raises his eyebrows skeptically. He looks over at Bradley as though he expects him to express an opinion, but Bradley just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Be careful,” your brother says, returning his attention to the plate of scrambled eggs before him.
You snort. “In what way?”
“In all ways,” Jake chimes in, clearly annoyed that Bradley has nothing else to add. “Guys are dicks so keep your guard up.”
You give Jake a humorous look. “Not all guys,” you say.
Jake nods at you. “All guys.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “This isn’t my first date, Jake.”
“Just work under the assumption that all guys are dicks, alright?” he says. “That way, when he turns out to be a dick, you won’t be shocked.”
You set down the jar of jam you’re holding and let out a sigh. Since the incident with couch girl, Jake has gone out with three different women, which, to be fair, is normal for him. Still, you’re just about done pining over your brother’s best friend, whose signals you’ve clearly misread. If guys are dicks, then Jake Seresin is exhibit A. “He’s actually super sweet,” you say, taking your toast out of the toaster.
“Don’t be fooled,” Jake mutters.
Bradley grimaces as he looks up at you. “He’s not wrong.”
“I have dated plenty of nice guys,” you say. “Just because the two of you are assholes to women, doesn’t mean all men are.”
Bradley claps a hand to his chest. “Me?” he cries in disbelief.
Jake puckers his lips and gives you a sheepish grin without disputing your claim.
“I’m not going into this with your negative energy,” you say, waving your arms at the two of them. “Because maybe he’s nothing like you.”
“One could hope.” Jake shrugs.
Bradley eyes him dubiously. “Just be careful,” he repeats.
“Don’t worry, it’s just dinner and a movie,” you say, bringing your breakfast to the table.
“What movie are you going to go see?” Jake asks.
“I don’t know,” you reply. “We’re going back to his place so probably something on Netflix.”
Jake sets down his fork and knife and stares at you. “You’re going where?”
You ignore Jake’s outburst and take a bite out of your toast. “I’ll be home late,” you say, mostly to Bradley. “So, don’t wait up.”
Jake stares at you. “You can’t just go to some random dude’s home,” he says.
You cock your head at him inquisitively. “Interesting advice coming from someone who brings home random girls almost daily.”
Jake presses his lips together and exhales moodily. “That’s different.”
Bradley smirks, eyeing him expectantly.
“How?” you ask.
Jake rises from his seat and lifts his coffee cup. “Do whatever you want,” he says. “Bradshaw, let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”
Bradley gives you a resigned sort of look and shoves one last piece of toast into his mouth. “I’m driving,” he says with his mouth full.
“You better not be blocking me in!” you yell at their backs as they head for the front door.
That night, your date drops you off at the end of your driveway, leaning in for a kiss before you exit his car. You give him a quick peck and a tight smile before stepping out of the vehicle, knowing that, despite the evening having been pleasant enough, you’re probably not going to pursue the relationship further.
He asks about seeing you later in the week and you peek back through his car window and respond with a polite maybe because perhaps the guy deserves another chance. You walk up to the porch as he drives away, and then try the door before searching for your keys in the dark.
The door is unlocked, so you walk in, flicking on the light, and the first thing you see is Jake as he steps away from the window facing the driveway and places his hands on his hips.
“He didn’t want to walk you to the door?” he asks sternly.
You grimace at him. “Why are you here?”
“Bradley had to stay late tonight so I came to make sure you got home alright.”
You blink at him coolly. “And that involves spying on me?”
“If I were spying on you, you wouldn’t know about it,” Jake retorts, starting for the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“I just came from dinner,” you remind him, taking off your heels.
You follow him into the kitchen, dropping your purse on the floor as you go. You’re suddenly feeling extremely tired. Jake opens the refrigerator and starts taking out ingredients for a meal while you walk past him and land on the couch in the living room. Jake cranes his neck to look at you over the island. “I’m making spaghetti,” he calls.
“Knock yourself out,” you reply, closing your eyes.
You hear Jake step around the island and enter the living room, and then you feel the depression of the couch as he plants himself down by your feet. You open your eyes again. “Yes?” you say.
Jake watches you blankly for a second before finally blurting out, “How’d it go?”
You furrow your eyebrows, still confused by his interest in your dating life. You pull your knees up so that your feet don’t keep sliding into him and pretend like you aren’t at all intrigued by his question. “Fine,” you respond nonchalantly.
Jake nods although he doesn’t look entirely satisfied with your answer. “Still think he’s nice?”
You eye him wryly. “Very.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Too nice?”
You make a face at him. “What’s too nice?”
Jake shrugs. “Boring.”
You give him a flat look. “This perspective explains so much,” you say, pointing at him reproachfully.
Jake laughs. “Girls don’t like nice guys.”
“I like nice guys!” you exclaim, sitting up with renewed energy.
Jake eyes you skeptically. “Sure, you do.” His gaze sweeps over your face in a slightly provocative manner and you get the sense again that he might be into you. And this possibility sends a rush through your body that makes your head spin. However, you remind yourself that, if this were, in fact, the case, Jake wouldn’t be going out and sleeping with a new woman every other night, because that would be counterintuitive. Besides, you are getting over him, anyway. You are well on your way to recovery.
You shake your head at him and lean your back into the armrest of the couch.
“You dressed up for him,” he notes, meeting your gaze as you glance up at him.
“Would you rather I undressed for him?” you ask pointedly.
Jake blinks at you uncomfortably. He looks like he might be sick. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, rubbing his forehead anxiously.
“You started it.”
“I just meant ” – he sighs without looking at you – “I just meant, you look good.”
“Then just say that,” you retort. “Without being a dick about it.”
He turns to look at you with an apologetic sort of cringe contorting his features. “Guess I’m not a ‘nice’ guy,” he mutters, complete with air quotes.
You stare at him, wondering if he’s hinting at something. You kick him in the leg with your foot. “Don’t be weird.”
He chuckles. “Come on,” he says, rising from the couch. “Let’s eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“But I want company,” he says with a slight whine, bending forward to grab your wrists and pull you up off the couch.
You let him lift you to your feet, your body crashing briefly into his while you find your balance. Jake releases you instantly and takes a step back, holding his hands up as though he doesn’t want to be held responsible for initiating the contact.
“Sorry,” he mutters quickly.
You give him a look. “I said, don't be weird, Jake.”
Three weeks later, you’re sitting with Jake on a patio, waiting for Bradley to bring the three of you drinks from the bar.
“Can I ask you a question?” you say tentatively, making sure that Bradley is still inside the pub.
“Shoot,” Jake responds, downing the last of his beer.
“It’s about my boyfriend,” you say.
Jake cringes. “He’s your boyfriend now?”
You shrug. “I mean, I guess. We haven’t really formally established our relationship status.”
Jake nods. “And you want out?”
“What? No!”
“What’s the question, then?” Jake raises his eyebrows.
“It’s about the sex,” you say, stirring your drink with your straw to avoid looking at him.
“The what?” Jake exclaims, reaching for his empty glass of beer and bringing it to his mouth before realizing there is nothing left.
You clear your throat and glance up at him, slightly mortified. “It’s… it’s good, it’s just” –
“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouts, leaping up from his seat as though your words have burned him. “I don’t want to hear about that!”
You give him a flat look. “Jake, I literally found you naked on my couch last month. The least you could do is give me some guidance.”
Jake squirms. “I’m not – I can’t,” he stammers. “I don’t think I can listen to this.”
“Why not?!”
Jake lets out a dramatic moan. “Why don’t you ask your brother?”
“For advice on my sex life?” you hiss.
“Don’t you have friends?” Jake asks, dropping back into his seat.
“I need a guy’s opinion.”
Jake lets out an irritable sigh and gives his head a slight shake to indicate that he’s still not on board with this turn of events. “Don’t you have guy friends?”
You nod. “I do. And you’re one of them. Are you not?”
Jake stares at you defeatedly. “How detailed is this going to get?”
You glance over your shoulder to check on the crowd of people waiting for drinks at the bar, looking for your brother. You spot him nowhere near the counter, chatting up a stunning brunette, and resolve that you have at least fifteen minutes alone with Jake. You turn back to him and say, “That depends on how helpful you want to be.”
Jake whimpers. “I have no alcohol left.”
You roll your eyes. “Have mine,” you say, sliding your cocktail across the bistro table.
Jake takes the glass from you, his hand wrapping momentarily around yours before you let go. “Okay,” he says, taking a big gulp. “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” you say with a hesitant sigh. “So, the thing is, he really wants to try” –
“Nope, no, nuh-uh,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” He buries his face in his hands.
“Dude, I need your help!”
“You want my advice? Here it is,” he says, leaning into the table so suddenly that you jerk backward just to prevent a collision between your two faces. “Doesn’t matter what he wants to try if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“But it’s” –
Jake holds up a hand. “I don’t care what it is. If you’re sittin’ here talkin’ to me about it, it means you don’t want to do it.”
You stare at him, wondering when Jake Seresin had the opportunity to amass such profound wisdom. You furrow your eyebrows. “Even if it’s, like, supposedly a normal thing people do?”
Jake hooks his eyebrow; you’ve piqued his interest. “That’s what he told you?”
You nod slowly.
Jake lets out a long, heavy breath through his nose, his lips pressed tightly together as his jaw clenches. He studies your face with a look of concern. “You tell that asshole that the next time he pressures you into doing anything, he’s going to have to deal with me.” Jake takes another swig of your cocktail and then adds, “And your brother, of course.”
You grimace. “He’s not pressuring me. It just… was brought to my attention that there is a particular thing that we could be doing – that many people do – that we’re not currently doing – that… ugh, it would be so much easier if you just let me tell you what the thing is!”
Jake places a hand on your knee. “If you tell me what the thing is, I might hurl.” You groan in frustration while Jake pats your leg sympathetically. He shakes his head. “I knew this guy was gonna be a dick.”
Read Part 5
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doodledraw · 3 months
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Icemav - Hades & Persephone
They say Hades rules the Underworld. They say…the only being that can bring him back to a semblance of life is his husband, Persephone.
Just a little idea I had the other day while listening to Hadestown!! Hope you like it :))
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of-many-aus · 1 year
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Why Jake calls you ‘Angel’
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Summary: there’s always an origin story to a nickname, this one is yours
Warnings: none
A/N: let me know what you think of this series so far :)
Take Me Out to the Ball Game Masterlist
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
This was stupid. You had no idea why you had even let Natasha talk you into this, she knew this wasn’t your thing.
The noise was deafening with everyone screaming at the top of their lungs. Cheers and boos for this team or that.
Bodies rammed into one another as they jumped up and down, supporting their respective teams that were made up of either a sky blue, or a crimson red.
“You have to get to know him,” Nat chatted your ear off above all the yells, keeping your arms linked tightly as you wove back and forth in the crowd, “He’s your roommate, and you hardly know a thing about him.”
“Yeah,” You snapped back, shooting her a small glare, “Maybe he’s a serial killer. How does that feel, Nat? You could very well be the person who pressured me into accepting a living situation with a murderer.”
She rolled her eyes, long since used to your dramatic antics, “A cute murderer.” Your best friend flashed you a grin.
You rolled your eyes sarcastically, “Well, what he lacks in personality, I suppose he makes up for in looks.”
“Exactly!” She cheered, finally pushing through a clearing and towards seemingly the only two empty seats in the whole stadium, not giving you the chance to open your mouth and snap back about being sarcastic. She knew very well that you were.
It had been about two weeks since you and the star of your college's baseball team, Jake Seresin, had made a temporary arrangement of moving into an apartment together. And the two of you had been walking on eggshells around each other, which Natasha Trace never failed to throw in your face.
Honestly, you were more than fine keeping it that way. The less you were forced to talk to the cocky, ego driven athlete, the better.
Your best friend, on the other hand, seemed to think that it was fate that the two of you were thrown into the same living establishment. And apparently, it was an opportunity not to be passed up. Now, you had been dragged to his team's second game of the season. Evidently, missing his first one was some sort of crime in Natasha’s eyes and you now had to make up for it.
What did it matter anyway? He didn’t even know that you were here, and honestly, you hoped that it stayed that way. You didn’t need him thinking something other than the simple fact that you were dragged here, fighting tooth and nail to get away. But it was useless, Nat was impossible to stop when she put her mind to something.
Of course, the only seats available had to be in the very front row, just to the right of home plate.
The game had already started by the time you two sat down, and Jake's team was getting absolutely demolished.
No wonder all the other spectators were getting rowdy so quickly. Your school was trying to urge the team into coming back, and the other school was trying to keep their team up. The score was 1-6 and it was only the second inning.
Jakes team was up at bat, more specifically, a man you recognized to be Reuben Fitch, who was in your science class, at the plate, bat up and at the ready. According to the scoreboard, there was already one out, two pitches thrown, and nobody on the bases.
The pitcher from the other team glared against the sun as he wound his arm back, ready to release the ball. And when he so, it hooked in such a way that poor Reuben didn’t stand a chance of hitting it.
You felt a pang of pity in your heart for him, he had always been friendly to you, and watching his lips move in the shape of a curse and shaking his head in disappointment at himself made you sad to see. He made his way back to the dug out with a head hung low, not even reacting when Pete Mitchell, the coach, clapped him on the back in reassurance when he shuffled past him.
A frown pulled at your lips, “This is just sad,” You commented, “You picked the absolute worst day to force me to come and see a game.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to rebuttal, only to snap it shut when her eyes locked onto something behind you. A smirk slowly made its way onto her face, “Or maybe not.”
With furrowed eyebrows, you turned in your seat to see what she was looking at, only to lock eyes on a jersey you had grown accustomed to seeing thrown lazily around your apartment- along with other pieces of gear he never bothered to pick up- making it’s way towards you.
Jake was up at bat.
There was a determined aura about him, you could tell from the way his eyes stayed trained on the pitchers mound and from the way his jaw was set and shoulders were in a ridged square.
High pitched squeals erupted from behind you in a way that made you cringe at the sudden noise.
“It’s Jake!”
“He looks so hot.”
“He was totally checking me out earlier.”
You rolled your eyes at the group of girls behind you, babbling like a bunch of teenagers at the mall, and crossed your arms over your chest.
Natasha was looking over at you with a smirk that had morphed into a knowing one.
“What?” You snapped.
Her grin only widened, “Nothing, nothing.” She murmured, turning her attention back to the game.
After allowing your eyes to linger suspiciously on her for another moment, you tore them away from her and too looked to where Jake was now winding up to bat.
The pitcher threw the next one faster than he had moments ago, and it headed straight for the blond man.
Your heart jumped to your throat and your arms unconsciously loosened, falling to your sides as you leaned forward.
Jake jumped backwards out of the way just in time, the ball narrowly missing his stomach in the process.
Shouts of protest came from all over the stadium, cursing out the pitcher for trying to take out the star player.
A breath slipped through your lips and you felt the muscles in your shoulders loosen. Why they were even tense in the first place, you didn’t know.
Seresin let out a huff, taking a step back from the plate to give himself a moment to collect himself, and his gaze unconsciously swept over the crowd.
Bright green eyes locked onto yours before you could even think about looking away and trying to hide yourself.
Jake stilled.
All of the sounds seemed to drown out around you. Neither of you let up your stares, no matter how much as you knew you should.
Then, the corner of his lips quirked up the tiniest bit, and he threw a wink in your direction before turning back to the plate and stepping up once more.
One of the girls squealed from behind you, “Did you see that? Did you? Did you? He winked at me!”
You barely even heard her, eyes still yet to leave Jakes tall form.
“What was that all about?” You could hear the grin in her voice as Natasha whispered to you.
Not an answer came out of you though. You were too transfixed in the game.
When the ball came at him again, he was ready, and he hit it out of the park. Literally.
Again, it seemed like almost every person in the stadium began screaming at the top of their lungs. Whether it was from anger or pure joy at the home run the man had just hit.
Somehow, you had joined in with them, clapping as loudly as you could and cheering.
Jake threw one glance to you over his shoulder before taking a jog around the bases, a grin of victory playing on his lips.
It only went uphill from there.
Somehow, when put in the outfield, every single ball went Jake's way, and he caught each and every one of them. Then each time he came up to bat, he would get at least one other person home.
There was a reason he was the star player.
By the end, the score was 12-6, and your throat was raw from all the screaming you had done, as well as most likely every other person in the audience.
“Well?” You finally tore your eyes away from the field at your best friend's voice, “Worth coming?”
You hid a grin and tried to shrug nonchalantly, “I suppose.”
She laughed loudly, linking your arms together and beginning to lead you into the slowly dispersing crowd.
The two of you chatted all the way back to the row of cars, when a voice calling out your name made you both stop and turn.
Jake jogged after the two of you, baseball gear bag slung over one shoulder.
The group of girls that had been obnoxious behind you for the entire game now stood a few yards away with dropped jaws that soon turned into sneers.
Your roommate paid them no mind though, as he came to a stop in front of you, slightly breathless as if he had run all the way from the dugout to catch up with you.
“Hi,” You breathed out in surprise, eyebrows raised.
He grinned that blinding, award winning smile of his, “You came to my game.”
“Oh yeah,” Natasha piped up, nodding excitedly from beside you, “She practically dragged me here.”
Your head snapped into her direction and your eyes widened for a brief second before you began glaring daggers at her, “I did not-“
“I’m glad you came.”
The gentleness of his tone made your mouth snap shut and your attention turn to him once more.
“We were losing, bad, but then you showed up, and we suddenly won again.” He was yet to drop his grin.
You shook your head, “That wasn’t me-“
“Sure it was,” He laughed lightly, “You’re like my own guardian angel.”
You rolled your eyes, “Don’t call me that.”
If it was even possible, his grin seemed to widen, “Why not? I think it’s fitting.”
A scoff left your lips, and whatever weird haze you had been in during the game finally shook off, “Don’t you dare.” You warned.
“Hangman!” Bradley Bradshaw called from a couple paces away, waving the man down, “Come on! The boys are going out to celebrate!”
“Be right there!” The blond called back before winking at you once more, “See you at home, Angel.”
With that, he jogged off, leaving you in a speechless state that was so unlike you.
Nat moved to stand in front of you, wiggling her eyebrows.
You hesitated before softly shoving her, “Shut up.” You mumbled, turning to make your way to the car.
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fever pitch (b.b) - prologue
soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨
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Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?
Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.
The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.
When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,
“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”
Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.
Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,
“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”
The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”
“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”
Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”
Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour. 
Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.
Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.
***
Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.
All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.
In other words, all in a day’s work.
There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.
You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.
And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.
There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.
It’s nowhere near enough.
There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.
“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”
She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!” 
“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.
While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone. 
His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.
‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’
Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’
‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.
Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.
And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…
‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’
‘...Can you?’
He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen. 
‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’
Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’
The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.
“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.
He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…
“Excuse me, I—”
You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.
In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”
“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”
“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.
But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”
Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”
There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”
And boy, can he.
“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”
You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?” 
He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”
You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.
“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.
“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”
“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”
His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”
This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”
Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”
“How so?”
“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”
“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”
He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”
The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment. 
“Wanna get some air?”
He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”
You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.
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topguncortez · 29 days
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Slap Shot || Prologue
a Jake Seresin AU
previous part | masterlist | next part
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synopsis: the first night out in a long time, and it just so happens to be one of the biggest weekends in the Hockey season. A certain blonde hair cowboy makes his charm on you.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of grief, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of "locker room talk", puck bunnies, mentions of cheating, PDA, making out, allusions of sex.
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This wasn’t like you. 
You weren’t the type who went out wearing one of the shortest and tightest black dresses you own, killer heels on your feet, your hair curled in big blown out-waves, makeup done and a bright bold red on your lips. You weren’t the type to sit at the bar, twirling the straw around in your drink and flirting with guys whose names you didn’t bother to ask for or learn. And you definitely weren’t the type to actively look for and plan to go home with one of those guys. 
But tonight was different. 
Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the world had been finally lifted off your shoulders. Grief was such a weird thing. You knew that long ago, but it had been a while since you were met with the process. The first time you went through the grieving process, it had come on so suddenly, you weren’t sure how to handle it. This time, you had years to prepare for it. Once you hit that final phase of acceptance, you felt like you could breathe again. And you had a new outlook on your life and you were ready to take charge of it. 
Or maybe it was because the bar was crawling with hockey players. 
It was All-Star weekend, and the best of the best NHL players were in town to show off their skills. The bar you were currently sitting in was crawling with them. Some were trying to enjoy probably their first night off in weeks, others looking for a puck bunny (or two) to take back with them, and some fell in the middle. 
You sighed as you looked down at your drink, swirling around the melting ice with your straw. The confidence you had felt earlier when you first put on this dress was starting to fade, and the insecurities started creeping in. You weren’t entirely sure what you thought was going to happen when you strolled into this bar. You could count on one hand all the one-stands you have had in your entire life (the answer was one and that one ended up becoming a long term boyfriend). Also, you had a thing about not hooking up with hockey players. You had been surrounded by them your whole life. There was something about hearing the locker room talk the day after a win that made you want to stay as far away from hooking up with one as humanly possible. Even if a hockey player was the last man on the planet, you would weigh the pros and cons of reproduction or killing off the human race. 
“Hey,” You waved down the bartender, “Can I get my-” 
“Jack and Coke, sweetheart,” A husky voice said, as a large, warm body saddled up next to you, “And whatever the lady is having,” He nodded his head towards you. 
You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at the man next to you. You were met with the sight of perfect tan skin as if it had been kissed by the sun god himself, sandy blonde hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. His green eyes peered down at you, a smirk on his lips. 
“You looked like you were going to leave,” He said, his voice with a slight southern twang to it, “And I couldn’t let you leave without introducing myself.” 
You raised a brow in suspicion.
“Jake,” He held his hand out to you. You looked at it skeptically, and then back up at him, his smile never wavering, “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I promise I don’t got any diseases. It’s just a hand shake, not a marriage proposal.” 
“Sonny,” You said before you even had a chance to stop yourself. It was the nickname your father had given you, and the name he almost always introduced you as. 
“Sonny, huh? Short for Sunshine?” 
I wish, you thought, “Yeah, I guess.” 
The bartender set down two drinks in front of you, the jack and coke for Jake, and another vodka soda for you. Jake lifted his drink, cheersing against yours before taking a sip. He leaned his back against his bar, canvasing the tightly packed area. Your eyes wandered over his body. He was clad in a burnt orange suit, with a lighter orange shirt underneath, a vast difference from the black and navy blue fitted suits filling the bar. It fit him in all the right places, the top buttons undone showing his collarbone and a gold chain around his neck. You watched as his throat bobbed as he took a sip of his drink, and thoughts of you running your tongue down the vein in his neck filled your mind, a warmth spreading in your lower belly. 
“I can feel you staring,” Jake said, turning his head to meet your gaze. 
Normally, you’d turn away and blush like a schoolgirl. You weren’t inexperienced with guys by any means, but you didn’t have the confidence. The fear of rejection was buried deep into you, that most of them you stayed away from guys like this. But blame it on the alcohol, you gave him a smirk, lifting the straw to your red painted lips. 
“A girl can’t admire what she likes?” You shrug, batting your eyelashes. 
A flash of darkness moved through his eyes, before the playful grin arose on his cheeks, “Yeah?” He leaned in closer to you. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, goosebumps arising on your skin from the warmth filtering off his body. Who knew that you could get turned on by a man smelling good? “What else does the girl like?” 
You bit your lip, leaning into him, so your chest was almost touching his. You didn’t miss the quick shift of his eyes downward at your chest and then back to your eyes. 
“Tequila.”  
The smirk never left his lips as he turned back towards the bar, ordering two shots of tequila with limes. You took another sip of your drink, setting it down on the bar as the bartender delivered the shots. Jake gently took your hand in his, his green eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe on your skin, before sprinkling a line of salt. The move shouldn’t have turned you on that much, but alas here you were, wondering what it would be like to feel his tongue on other places of your body. 
As if he could tell what you were thinking, Jake shot you a wink before handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his glass up slightly, as he gave a small toast. 
“To bad decisions. Can’t come in her, come on her.” Jake’s eyes never left your as you both licked the lines of salt on the back of your hands. You watched as he clenched his jaw from the burn of the clear liquid down his throat. You set the shot glass down on the bar, now feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through your veins. 
“More?” You asked, a look in your eye that told Jake you weren’t ready for the night to end yet. 
“Fuck it.” 
The two of you put down a couple of more shots, before Jake was dragging you back to a booth he and his friends had claimed on the other side of the bar. You weren’t sure what it was about Jake, but you felt like you knew him. Maybe it was his easy going smile or how easily a conversation flowed between the two of you. Jake had sat you down next to him in one of the booths, but at some point in time, you had slid into his lap, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, like it belonged there. Your drinks had long been discarded and the ice melted. 
“So, what are you in town for?” Jake asked, his lips right next to your ear as he tried to speak over the loud sound of the bass. 
“Work stuff,” You shrugged. You would rather not get into the details of what was going to be your most stressful weekend of the whole entire season, “What about you? You live here or…?” 
“Nah,” Jake chuckled, “Born and raised, but don’t live here. Also visiting for work.” 
Right on cue, one of Jake’s friends set down another tray of shots, everyone around the booth grabbing one. Jake kept his arm around you as he reached to grab one. He raised it up, toasting with the rest of his friends, before turning to look at you. 
Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him take the shot, holding the alcohol in his mouth. You didn’t need to be told as his hand gripped your face, and brought your jaw towards him, opening your own mouth. You knew it was obscene as Jake spit the alcohol, which was again tequila into your mouth, but you didn’t care. You had barely swallowed the liquid, when you crashed your lips to his. 
Jake’s grip on your hips tightened, and you felt the swelling of his cock against your ass. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the lime and tequila he had taken earlier. His warmth enveloped you, as you rubbed your thighs together trying to get some friction to relieve the aching heat between your legs. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently on the blonde locks, making a groan fall from his lips. Jake’s lips trailed from yours, leaving a path of sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, sucking with just enough pressure to make a moan tumble from your lips.
“What do you say, sweetheart,” Jake whispered against your skin, the feeling making you shiver in his arms, “Want to get out of here?” 
You turned to face him. His green eyes were blown wide with lust, his hair tousled from you running your hands through it, his lips slightly swollen and pouty as he looked at you. 
Throwing all caution to the wind, you placed another heated kiss on his lips before pulling away. 
“Thought you’d never ask.”
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goosita · 4 months
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𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜
𝚊 𝚃𝚘𝚙 𝙶𝚞𝚗//𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚄
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“𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜.”
Coriolanus Snow x fem!Reader
Lieutenant Coriolanus Snow (callsign: Snake) is one of the top pilots at District 12’s Naval Air Station. Son of the infamous Capt. Crassus “Rosebud” Snow and a highly decorated pilot in both training and combat missions, he will do whatever it takes to earn his place at the Capitol’s elite Fighter Weapons School and follow in his father’s footsteps. Only the nation’s best and brightest naval aviators are invited to attend, and Lt. Snow is going to be one of them.
When Lt. Snow’s WSO, Lt. Sejanus “Baby” Plinth, is injured in a training exercise, you are called in to replace him as Snow’s backseater. Your job is to operate the weapons systems of the aircraft and control the radars used for communications in the air. The only problem is that you can’t stand the cocky pilot. He’s impulsive, he has a bad habit of leaving his wingman, he doesn’t play by the rules. You’re careful, calculated. The safety of your crew and the safety of your aircraft always come first. For the sake of your duty to Panem, you two will just have to find a way to work together and get along.
aviation term index
playlist
moodboards
prologue
part one
part two (coming soon!)
(masterlist format ib: @floralcyanide)
(some quotes taken directly from Top Gun (dir. Tony Scott, 1986) i do not own the film or script.)
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accioprocrastination · 8 months
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The Reunion
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x wife Reader
A/N: Military inaccuracies, angst and fluff
I haven't proof read this so apologies in advance...
Summary: You're redeployed to the same base as your husband
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Reader POV
You touched down in North Island this morning so it's not out of the ordinary that you've spent all evening getting to know the team already stationed here.
It's nearing two a.m. and you're beginning to hit your limit of social interaction. You take a seat on one of the bar stools against the wall closing your eyes momentarily wishing you were home.
"I am so tired I need to go to get out of here and Javy is barely standing, so I'm going to get him something to eat. If any of y'all want food we're leaving now." Jake says walking up to the table where you're sat with a couple of your colleagues.
"Food sounds great." You respond without question. His eyes twinkle as they meet yours and you stare at the laughter lines that momentarily form as he gives you a quick smile. God he's good looking and he knows it.
"I should probably go too and try and adjust to this timezone." Preacher says from next to you getting up and walking out without a more elaborate goodbye. You roll your eyes at his constant holier than thou wisdom.
You watch silently as Jake struggles to make Javy put his jacket on, smirking at the futile effort.
It's only Bob and you left sitting here as Jake continues his fruitless attempt to put Javy's jacket on him.
"I'm hungry - I'm going to go with them. Are you coming?" You ask Bob. He shakes his head.
"No I'm good." He says quietly. You've noticed how he tenses up around your husband and have refrained from commenting.
"Did something happen with Hangman and you? He gets mouthy when he's nervous." You try to defend Hangman having no idea what he's said or done to make Bob feel uncomfortable.
"Nothing's happened I just don't like him." Bob says not opening up to you. It's probably a good thing he's so reserved, so that he doesn't unknowingly start slagging off your husband to you.
You still feel a stone drop in your stomach at his confession.
"How do you know him?" Bob asks watching you staring at the scene before you. You tear your eyes off of Jake and look at Bob.
"We've been stationed together before. Lots of times actually." You explain not really telling him anything.
"He doesn't act like a human." Bob counters and without him elaborating you know what he means completely.
"He takes a long time to open up to people." You state.
"I don't think he feels emotions like normal people." Bob says staring at Jake as he beams at something Javy is slurring at him.
"He's not the person he pretends to be. I think he feels things more deeply than a lot of us and he doesn't know how to handle it so he plays Hangman... I'd rather fly with someone with that level-headedness than an emotional wreck." You remark.
"I think that's the first time anyone's called Hangman level-headed." Bob sniggers as the other two reach the door.
You smile sort of mentally agreeing with him that, that was a poor choice of words. "I know him better than other people. He's not that person when you get to know him." You shrug getting up.
"Does he know that you're in love with him?" Bob asks watching you.
You smile at the WSO completely ignoring his question as you say goodbye, "I'll see you in the morning Bob."
*
You head to the bathroom, leaving Jake to ensure that a very drunken Javy manages to sit down in the only diner open at this ungodly hour in the morning.
Jake has been stealing glances at you all night and you know he's making himself frustrated because of your no PDA around colleagues rule.
He was the one to enforce the rule and he'll never vocalise that he hates it.
You're drying your hands as the door to the bathroom smashes against the wall. It swings open to reveal a guilty looking Jake who has tried to open the door with a bit too much enthusiasm.
"Shit, sorry!" he says taking a step inside. He stops right behind you and breathes a sigh of relief that you're finally alone for the first time this evening.
You throw the paper towel in the bin, breaking your eye contact through the mirror and turning to face him.
"Lieutenant" you tease him, knowing that he loves it when you call him that. His eyes instantly darken and he steps closer, giving you a look that you can only describe as hunger.
He leans in like he's going to kiss you then stops abruptly, barely a hair's breadth away from your face.
Jake's giving you such a mischievous grin that you have to wonder what he's currently thinking. "You didn't tell me you got promoted to captain, Captain." He whispers.
"I wanted to tell you in person." You inform him as you take ahold of his left hand.
"Congrats darlin'" He says quickly breaking the hand hold and lifting you up slightly to kiss him.
You jump up and knot your legs around his waist. "I-" he starts but you cut him off.
"Please stop talking and just kiss me already." You say.
"Your wish is my command." He spouts before his lips finally meet yours.
You run your fingers through his hair as he manoeuvres to sit you against the sinks. He groans above you - still taking care to gently set you down.
You deepen the kiss to muffle him. He doesn't comment on how your legs tighten around his waist in response.
He breaks the kiss and you huff out of frustration before he starts kissing down your jaw and your neck.
"I have wanted to do this all day." his words tickle against your neck.
"Javy's waiting." you remind Jake and he halts.
His strong arms cloak around you in a tight hug. You hug back with the same force.
"He can wait another minute." Jake says refusing to let you go.
When he loosens his grip to let you go, you tighten your hold on him. "One more minute" You say into his shoulder. Jake is more than happy to oblige to your request.
"God I missed you." He murmurs before you echo the sentiment.
*
Jake is uncontrollably giggling in the passenger seat of your car which makes you laugh harder at your own stupid joke. It is so rare to crack him like this.
His arms are wrapped around you like a blanket as you walk inside the hotel.
Your laughter cuts off as you both spot an elderly couple in the elevator and Jake untangles himself from you to be more presentable in front of them.
You step in and press the button to your floor as he talks with the elderly couple.
"Thank you for your service" the old lady says to Jake.
"It's my pleasure ma'am" he responds as the elevator pings their floor.
Once it eventually reaches your floor, you practically run out pulling him by the hand.
The second the room door closes behind you, he pounces and pulls you onto the bed.
Jake climbs on top of you, trapping you beneath his body to reiterate what he was saying earlier.
"I missed you." he sighs, needing you to know how much.
"I missed you too." you reply smiling widely.
"I don't think you understand how much." He says before kissing your jaw.
"I miss laughing with you", he presses another kiss against your jaw.
"I miss turning to see your face whenever someone says something I know would make you laugh", he kisses you again.
"I miss our friendship." He says continuing the trail of kisses.
You push on his shoulders moving him to switch positions with you.
"Trust me, I understand how much." You respond kissing him on the lips.
"I wish we could be together all of the time." You tell him breaking the kiss to talk some more.
"I don't like when we meet up after months apart and I'm not sure where we stand." Jake vocalises his anxiety as you run a finger down his cheek.
"We're never in a bad place. We could not speak for months and I'd still be around waiting for you. I know it can be weird to readjust to each others' routines but I'm always going to love you regardless of what happens in between us being together physically in the same place." You say meeting his gaze.
You know he worries when you're apart and you watch as he relaxes into the sheets.
"Sometime I feel insecure that you look at me and know my insecurities, doubts and fears and I don't understand why you love me." He admits.
"You're everything to me. You know that right?" You question.
It's unfrequent that Jake opens up to you like this, so you're not overly surprised when he deflects. "So when we argue about what colour to paint the kitchen?" He tease you about your last big argument.
You roll your eyes, smiling at him. "I still love you even when you're wrong." You say before kissing him again.
"Ditto!" He mumbles against your lips.
You pull back and he smirks knowing you're about to rebuttal.
"I cannot believe that you have brought that up! Now all I'm thinking about is that we still haven't chosen a colour." You declare, jokily hitting Jake's bicep making him laugh.
"We'll pick something soon." he yawns, tiredness hitting him like a tidal wave. His eyes sting from the brightness of the hotel lighting.
You watch Jake turn to look at the clock on the bedside table. It is already 3.24 am.
"You tired princess?" you ask him running a finger along his eyebrows making his eyes flutter shut. It's an unfair tactic that you know will make him more sleepy.
"Wide awake sweetheart." the lie falls from his lips seconds before he is unable to stop another yawn.
You clamber off him instantly.
"Nooo." Jake complains grabbing the back of your thighs to try and stop you getting up.
"I'm not hooking up with you if you're going to lie there yawning." You remark standing up to go brush your teeth.
Jake pouts, "when did I get so old that I can't pull all-nighters?" You smile down at him silently wishing you could both stay awake talking for a few more hours.
He rubs his eyes trying not to fall asleep; longing to do more than kiss you. You both know your husband will be asleep the minute you come back and turn the light off.
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sorchathered · 19 days
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Strip that down
Pairing- Club Owner!Jake Seresin x Dancer!Reader (Nightclub AU)
Warnings- mentions of stripping, language, light smut
Summary-I’m gonna be so serious y’all I blacked out writing this, might make it a series of drabbles in the future bc I went feral for the concept.
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“I swear you have got to be the most pig headed, arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met” you say as you storm down the hall, a very disgruntled Jake Seresin hot on your heels. He hadn’t intended to start a fight but goddamnit it seemed like no matter what he said lately caused an argument.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like I was asking for that girl’s number or anything, she was all over me! What did you want me to do? hit her? Come on Cherry just stop and look at me please?” He said as he jogged in front of you to stall you. You two weren’t even dating, you’d been very adamant that this was just hooking up, so why were you so pissed? Unless…
“Cherry look at me. I can’t keep fighting with you like this, it’s driving me insane. If you want to break things off we can, I can’t say I won’t miss you but I’ll get it. We work together and it’s hard to be professional when shit like this happens. But…if you want more, all you have to do is ask baby girl, you know good and damn well you’ve got me totally wrapped.”
He had you crowded up against the sticky nightclub wall, bass thrumming through the room straight into your chest as he skimmed his hands up and down your sides. You’d been in the middle of your set when you watched some fresh faced new hire throw her arms around his neck and get way too close for your liking, but of course you had to be professional and continue on, trying to school your features as you danced on stage. The second you’d finished and gotten your tips you’d slammed his portion on the bar, stomping off to the dressing rooms, the fire in your eyes enough to burn the whole room down. He wasn’t yours, he was your boss and you should’ve known better than to let him get under your skin like this.
You were trying to get your bearings but your head was spinning, had he really just said he wanted more? You opened your mouth but promptly shut it, how were you supposed to respond to that? Of course that’s what you wanted but you never would’ve suggested it, you’d been in love with him since the two of you had started this whole arrangement, how could you not be? He was charming and charismatic, and don’t even ask about his looks; the man knew he looked good. He was making it harder and harder to focus now, those damn hands of his couldn’t seem to stop grazing over whatever exposed flesh he could get to and it was making you dizzy.
He cocked his head and smirked that smart ass smile at you, leaning in to whisper against your lips, “Gotta use your words baby, you want us to keep going like we are? Or do you want me to make you mine? You say the word and I’ll make sure every girl in a 100 mile radius knows you own me, but I need to hear you say it.”
“You know I do, I love you, you’re such an asshole but fuck I do, I love you Jake.”
He groaned as he pressed himself to you, kissing you hard as he continued to run his hands all over your body. “Goddamnit Cherry, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me, making me fucking crazy, I ought to take you right here where everyone can see.” His words sent fire through your veins, you cried out and bucked into him at the thought of him fucking you right outside of the main stage, anyone could walk by and you weren’t sure you’d even care. He chuckled against the shell of your ear as he continued to press his palm against your core, he could feel you soaking through the thin fabric of your costume, again he briefly considered following through with his taunting and fucking you right here, but thought better of it because after all you were still at work. He kissed you again and removed his hand from your shorts, watching your pretty doe eyes blink at him in shock, you really had thought he’d do it.
“Oh come on now don’t look at me like that, go change and grab your stuff, first I’m gonna take you out for dinner and then you can be my dessert, whadd’ya say Cherry Pie?” You rolled your eyes but let him scoot you down the hall, and when you walked out with his hand on your ass you made sure the new waitress caught a glimpse of your tongue down his throat. Jake could definitely get used to this side of you, and the private dances just for him every night didn’t hurt either.
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🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia @goldenseresinretriever @bradshawssugarbaby @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby
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sunlightmurdock · 6 months
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Operation Apollo | 2.7 | Jake Seresin x Reader
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Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.
Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, mentions of pregnancy (rumours), tabloids, media, Jake’s feelings, Apollo making bad decisions <3, wc: 5.8k
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Jake has been having weird dreams recently. No, weird isn’t the word. Downright unnerving. The kind of dreams that have you waking up breathless, and drenched in sweat, and alone. He has been here before. Not in this particular hotel room is SoCal, but in this position. Alone, and having weird dreams.
The sheet under him is damp, and he can feel one bead of sweat in particular following the length of his spine. It’s a sick kind of feeling, like waiting for a fever to break. He swallows thickly before he even begins to stir. His throat is sore and dry. His legs ache before he even attempts to stretch them
Without opening his eyes, he knows that his bed is empty.
But, even in this empty bed, filled with that sick kind of feeling, Jake would rather be here. Being awake, left with the sobriety of conscious thought, is a far milder form of torture than letting himself drift off again. Here, awake, you’re alive.
You aren’t in danger, screaming out his name and begging for his help. Even here, even awake, the sound of your voice rings in his ears and his forearms tingle like your fingertips are still digging into them.
He can barely sleep now, not until the exhaustion finally comes for him and he knocks out. Even then, even when he finally manages to sleep, he doesn’t rest. He’s met with the same dreams over and over.
This hotel room in San Diego is far from feeling like home. It doesn’t smell right. It smells like air freshener and laundry. He can hear traffic and voices in the hall. The room feels too still. Jake misses that familiar feeling of your restless sleep, your limbs all over him and your face pressing into the crook of his neck, your heart beating against his skin. He misses the smell of you, the soft perfume of your body wash that always lingers from showering with him the night before.
He parts his dry lips and lets out a long exhale. His fingers twitch at his side before he manages to lift his arm and rub at his eyes.
As much as real rest would probably heal the aches in his body — he’s not in his twenties anymore, nature keeps reminding him of that — Jake won’t let himself stay in bed. An hour after sunrise, he’s jogging along the viewpoint by Ocean Beach. He’s listening to his country running playlist that you make fun of him for.
He thinks of all the mornings he let you coax him into staying in bed. Those mischievous little smiles and your legs stretching out across the fabric, tangling between his, your hands adventuring across his muscles. He has always been an early riser, but he misses those lazy mornings. He hates himself for wasting so many — arguing with you or beating himself up for what he was keeping from you. None of it seems worth it now.
This beautiful day, this soaring sun. Clear sky, ocean air, salt on his skin. He would give it all up in an instant.
He’d give anything to come home and find you sprawled out along the couch, a straw between your lips and another one of those mischievous little smiles toying on them too, asking him, “How was the run, cowboy?”
His feet hit the pavement to the beat playing through his ears, his heartbeat starting to quicken through his chest. Faster than normal. He’s a pretty fit guy, he works out regularly. He hasn’t been sleeping well. Or eating great. Sweat beads along his hairline as he pushes himself harder anyway. A simple 5k hasn’t ever stunted him before, and he won’t let it now.
The shore passes him by in his peripheral, traffic on his other side. He wonders if you’re up yet, if this is hitting you as hard as it’s hitting him. There are a hundred and twelve days left of your father’s term, three-sixty-five after that where you’ll still have a service detail. Jake read those papers from back to front twice. Four hundred more days of this is going to kill him.
Twenty minutes into his 5k, something snaps him out of his pity party. Something to his right, barely there in the corner of his vision. He turns his head, brows drawing together. Harvard. Brigham fucking Lennox, a kid who was brought up to be just as pretentious as the people who named him that had hoped.
The Weapons Systems Officer is leaning out of the driver’s side window of a black Jeep Wrangler. Shirtless and wearing sunglasses, probably on his way to some party on the beach that Jake would have been throwing if things had gone down differently. He’s yelling something.
“What?” Jake pants out, plucking the earbud from his ear, squinting through the sun at the ghost of a friend, leaning out of the driver’s side window. Harvard’s smile practically doubles, stretching ear to ear.
“I said congratulations, Hangman!” Harvard’s East-Coast accent booms across the street. Jake’s brows draw together, his mouth pulling into a contradictory frown.
Just like that, the light turns green and Harvard lifts one of those stupid bear paws he’s got for hands and waves, then the Jeep pulls off down the street. Congratulations, Hangman. Jake stares after the car, catching his breath.
It speeds away from him with the flow of traffic, while Jake himself can’t fathom moving from this spot. There’s a twisting, tightening knot in his stomach that threatens to have him heaving on this sidewalk like a hungover teenager.
Straightening up a little, Jake inhales all the sea salt and humidity that this little patch of earth has to offer. It weighs down throat sick feeling just enough for it to sink back to the pit of his stomach. If there’s one thing that Jake will remember about his career in the Navy, it’s how those guys tick. That Cheshire Cat smile doesn’t ever mean anything good.
He stretches his neck side to side and pushes his right hand into his pocket. Jake has to lift his left hand to shield his eyes as he looks down at his phone and finally turns off the do not disturb feature. He hadn’t wanted to listen to his mother’s pity for the second time in a five year period — he loves her, but he won’t ever let her see him with a broken heart again.
Blinking, he pulls the phone closer to his face. He’s got almost nine hundred notifications pending on his Home Screen. He swipes briefly into them and reads the top text message.
Hey, man, it’s Rooster. Hope you’re doing okay. Just saw the news.
Jake squints. He didn’t even know that Bradshaw still had his phone number. Jake’s mind instantly thinks of the worst. She’s dead. He’s been gone for a week, and now she’s dead. Swallowing, he continues. His thumb pushes the notification away and unlocks the phone all together.
He opens an internet browser and moves to click on the search bar, but he doesn’t have to. It’s right there staring back at him. Headline news, highlighted on the browser. First Daughter’s illicit affair with bodyguard. Your name plastered across the front page. Then, his eyes land on it. Knocked up.
It’s a picture of you with your hand extending backwards towards Jake in a crowd. It was from before anything had even happened with you. He remembers that dress, and the way your palm fit into his. It’s got emojis edited over it, tabloid-style, babies and bottles.
“Sorry, excuse me.” Jake flinches. His head whips around and finds a woman with a stroller staring at him apologetically. It’s double-wide, and there are two twin girls sitting in the pink and white thing, staring at him too. Twins.
His eyes widen. They aren’t very old. One of them is drooling all over their fist and the other is happily making some kind of cookie turn to mush in their hand. They’re watching him intently.
He’s blocking the sidewalk. That’s all it is. That’s why all three of them are staring at him. He’s just standing like an idiot in the middle of the path.
“Yeah. Sorry. Sorry.” Jake mutters, stumbling back out of her way, turning his attention back to the phone and clicking on a link. He’s zoned out again just as quickly, brows furrowed as he studies the webpage.
Insider source. Going on for months. Fired. Cover-up. Uncovered images. He sits on the wall bordering the beach and gawks.
The leaked security feeds had nothing to do with you, even though you had figured it would all come spilling out eventually. Once the media gets a whiff of a scandal, it’s impressive what they can find. Oddly, you’re okay with the evidence that they found. You know that there must be worse out there.
The worst that they’ve got is you and Jake pictured leaving the same bathroom minutes apart in the White House. Couple of kissing pictures. Old photos of Jake guiding you through busy crowds with his fingertips brushing yours are suddenly front page news.
You might be okay with what the internet has discovered — after all, you were prepared for it. Jake, however, suddenly starts to understand why that sick, twisting feeling won’t leave him alone.
He studies these images for longer than he’ll ever admit, all of these photos of the two of you together, grainy and from a bird’s eye angle. All it does is make that feeling in his chest grow. A simmer spilling over into a full blown boil. His ears hot, his throat thick, his fingers trembling. All of these reminders of how many times he got to touch you, and he sits there by the beach not knowing if he’ll ever get to do it again. Not after this.
It’s far too nice of a day for this. Mid-morning down by the San Diego River Bikeway. Blue skies and a soft, salty breeze cutting through the warming day. Everyone carries on around him.
He stares at the image left on his phone now. It’s a picture of you as a kid, standing next to your father and looking up at him with a big smile on your face. Even then, it’s at a campaign event. He isn’t even looking at you. Right next to that, a stark comparison, is a picture of you at the party you had snuck out to in the hills. You’re wearing a cap sleeve mini dress that hugs your body like a second skin, and Jake’s standing right behind you, smiling, pointing to a table of liquor.
That’s the narrative they’re spinning, and Jake is glad.
He’s panicking, he’s sick and his head feels like it’s going to roll right off of his shoulders, but he’s so glad that it isn’t your name being dragged through the mud. Suddenly, his biggest concern is no longer whether you’re awake and missing him. You’re all alone, probably scared out of your mind.
All those mornings with you keeping him in bed, sure, they were the focus a few minutes ago. Now he’s thinking of the evenings he had spent with you wrapped tight in his arms, calming your worries, soothing you to sleep. He hadn’t once dreamt of leaving you alone with those worries ever again, much less of being the cause of them.
The two of you hadn’t exactly been careful. Jake hadn’t touched you much since the two of you had been here together, four or so weeks ago now. Not since he had gotten that phone call in the Hard Deck. But before that — there were points where the two of you had slept together four times in one day.
Jake’s feet stumble as he goes for his first step, almost tripping over himself. He picks at straws in his mind, finally starting to move, wracking his brain for answers. The downstairs bathroom near the garden in the White House — fuck, Jake hopes he didn’t make a baby in that place.
He’s still thinking about it once he’s stepping out of his car and slamming the door shut. Truthfully, he drove this route on autopilot. If Bradley Bradshaw still has Jake’s number, he probably still lives in the same place. That old bird always had a thing for the sentimental.
Speaking of sentimental, Jake’s got a bad taste in his mouth thinking about this whole thing. It’s not like, if you have this kid, it’s ever going to experience a normal life. Family Christmases seem far from possible after your dad just threatened to send Jake to jail.
He swallows softly, walking up the steps and knocking against the glass pane in the door. This place had seemed weird and old back then. A fifties style bungalow with awkward links to the city and far too much peace and quiet; it paled in comparison to Jake’s bachelor pad near base.
Now, it looks the exact same. Nothing has changed but Jake. Now, he looks at the six foot fence around the backyard and the slightly longer driveway so that it’s quiet and off the road, and it all makes sense. It’s practically perfect.
Jake blinks as the door pulls open. There he is again, for the second time in just over a month after four years of no contact. Bradley stares, eyes wide for a second as he processes who is standing in front of him. It takes a moment to register. He stiffens and grips the door handle tighter.
“Jake.” Bradley realizes, frowning slightly as he bumps the door against his shoulder, blocking the entryway with his body. He gives his old friend a quick look up and down. If there’s one person he hadn’t been expecting to see on his porch, shirtless and looking like hell, today it was Jake. “What’s up?”
“Can I use your phone? I need to make a call.”
“They didn’t have one in your… hotel room?” Bradley frowns. He nudges closer and pulls the door with him. Jake’s expression changes. So, Bradley’s got some girl inside. Jake couldn’t care less. There were times when they were deployed that Jake has heard and seen Bradley do things he’d rather not remember.
Now, he’s standing on Bradley’s front porch and ready to name each and every one of them in alphabetical order if the dumb bird doesn’t get a lot more compliant, quickly.
“I was closer to here. Look, I don’t care who you’ve got in there — can I please just make a call from your phone?” Jake rushes. Bradley sinks his teeth into the inside of his cheek and turns his head to glance through into the hallway of his apartment.
Rooster has seen the articles. He knows why Jake’s standing at his front door drenched in sweat right now. He also knows that if he was in Jake’s shoes, he would be going out of his mind right now. Hell, if Rooster was in Jake’s shoes, he’s not sure he would have survived the past four years.
“Yeah. Sure. Come in, I’ll grab my phone.” He decides finally, already feeling that this is a bad idea from the second that Jake’s foot crosses the threshold. Bradley’s back is turned for exactly six paces.
“Babe—“
Jake’s head turns as Bradley picks his phone up from the couch. His brows knit together at the sound of a familiar voice — a masculine voice. They both turn their heads to stare at the man standing in Bradley’s hallway.
Javy swallows. He shifts uncomfortably on his weight and crosses his wrists like that will hide the fact that he’s wearing nothing but a charcoal coloured pair of Calvin Klein briefs.
Jake turns his head again, and this time finds Rooster turning beet red. If he wasn’t freaking out so badly, he might have cracked a joke.
“I mean… Rooster.” Javy corrects.
“Bradshaw, phone.” Jake reminds. Rooster blinks, tossing his phone across to Jake. Jake catches it in one hand and heads back out onto the front porch silently.
These people used to be his best friends. Once upon a time, this news would have been ground breaking to him. Rooster and Coyote. This would have taken him weeks to get over. Today, he doesn’t give a shit. Truthfully, from the deepest part of him, he doesn’t care about those people in the slightest.
All he cares about is you, going through exactly what he’s going through, alone.
He taps the number in to Bradley’s phone and it rings once before it is answered.
“Sir, I told you, she won’t speak to y—“
“Allen.” Jake breathed out and the other man stops speaking instantly. This isn’t allowed. This conversation shouldn’t be happening. No one really tried that hard to prevent it though, not really. Not when it was this easy. “Put her on the phone.”
Allen swallows softly as he turns his head and looks into the living room at the furious girl on the couch. Your father has been calling you all day, and now you’re being grilled by a California press representative. You just won’t talk.
“I can’t, sir. She’s in the middle of something right now.” Allen carries on like he’s still speaking to Mr. Head of State himself.
Jake opens his mouth but then quickly decides that he has to sit down before he can say something like this outside. He stumbles forwards and drops down onto Bradley Bradshaw’s porch step. He threw up here once in his twenties. Bradley didn’t invite him back much after that. “Is she pregnant?”
“I’m not sure. Sir.” Allen answers quietly. He presses his lips together in a tight line. With how fragile you’ve been recently, you’re going to lose it if you find out he spoke with Jake today. Currently, you appear to have taken a vow of silence. You’ve been tapping away at a laptop for hours. The entire staff has tried to put you on the phone with your father several times each. You just won’t talk to him.
Allen knows why you’re doing it. You want that selfish old bastard to panic. He can’t say he blames you.
“What do you mean you don’t fucking know? — She is or she isn’t. Allen, put her on the phone, I need to speak to her.” Jake bites. He rubs at his eyes, his head is pounding.
“I can’t do that. I would if I could.” Allen answers softly. Jake could continue to argue, but he knows this old jerk isn’t going to change his mind. His fist clenches around the chipped wooden step.
His throat strains. “Is — Is she okay?”
“No.” Allen answers calmly, leaning his back slightly against the wall behind him. Shooting a quick look in each direction, he lowers his voice again. “I… I think she might have let this get leaked on purpose.
“What?” Jake gawks. For the second time today, his world is turned on his axis and he has to reevaluate all of the information he has seen before. He rubs his knuckle into the socket of his eye, shaking his head like that will unscramble his train of thought.
“She told someone. I don’t see why she would, unless—“
You’re not pregnant. If you were, you wouldn’t tell a stranger. Unless this is the same girl you told before, about you and him. Fuck, he’s not sure what you would do anymore. He doesn’t have a clue.
“Fuck. Fuck. I need to see her. I know it’s a lot to ask, but—“ Jake pushes his fingers into his head and shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He can’t pretend he hadn’t ever thought of what it would be like to have a family with you. Far in the future, he had hopes for plenty of things.
This wasn’t ever how he dreamed of finding out he was going to be a dad, he’s terrified. He can’t imagine how you’re feeling.
He needs to see your face.
“Jake. Don’t.” Allen whispers angrily, making Manny’s head shoot up. The older man turns on his heel and heads for the back door. This conversation can’t continue here, when Jake’s being this ridiculous. “What phone is this? — The house is full of staff right now, you can’t do this now. I could get her to call you. Later.”
“Yeah. I can keep the phone. Get her to call me back on this number. I swear, Allen, if I don’t hear from her today then I’m going to drive up there.”
“Alright!” Allen hisses into the phone, checking over his shoulder. He could be tanking his thirty year career just by having this conversation, much less by aiding and abetting your little affair. “I’ll figure it out. Just calm down. She’s… in a weird place right now and I don’t need you making it worse. This is going to blow over.”
“Making it— are you fucking kidding?”
The line clicks dead. Jake almost throws the phone across the front yard, but he doesn’t. For two reasons. The first, he needs to speak to you — if he doesn’t hear your voice today, he might actually go insane. The second, he knows that Rooster is watching and would be upset if Jake obliterated his phone.
Jake swallows dryly, then pushes himself to stand. Rooster and Coyote spring into action, trying to make it look like they hadn’t been eavesdropping, as Jake walks back into the living room. Javy is wearing sweatpants now. Jake doesn’t take notice of either one of them, not really.
“I need to keep your phone for today.” Jake says, offering no explanation to accompany the statement. They were listening, he doesn’t need to elaborate.
“Uh… alright. Can l… see something on there first?” Rooster asks, shooting an awkward glance across at Javy. Javy’s eyes widen as he turns to look at the phone in Jake’s hand. Jake passes it over compliantly.
Rooster perches on the arm of the couch and gets to work hiding all of the naked photos of Jake’s best friend in a secret album. Silence falls across the three of them. This is especially rough because anyone who knows Javy, knows that he’s a chatterbox. He loves to talk. He could talk to anyone about everything.
But he doesn’t know how to talk to Jake now.
The feeling isn’t good. Jake is the one who left. The one who couldn’t bare to see their faces, or hear their voices, or even think about the Hard Deck. He shut them out on purpose and most days, after he had first lost Dani, Jake had hoped he wouldn’t ever see a single one of them again.
He guesses now that maybe if he wasn’t seeing them, he could pretend that she wasn’t dead. That she was still sitting in that bar, playing pool with her friends, growing older like she was meant to.
Jake and Javy are thinking of the same thing. Dani. What things would be like if she hadn’t died. If Jake might have stayed — that’s not much of a question; he would have. He loved his life back then. But that’s all an if. Jake hates playing the ‘What If’ game. His counselor told him it isn’t healthy.
He could love his life now, maybe even more than he had back then. He doesn’t like to thing about you in the same vein as Danielle — it doesn’t seem right to compare you when you each were so different, and he was so different when he loved you and her.
He can’t keep thinking about it, it still makes him angry. So, he swallows and crosses his arms over his chest, turning his head towards Coyote. “So… you’re fucking Rooster.”
“Actually, I’m the one—“ Bradley stops talking as Jake and Javy turn to look at him together. He just smiles sheepishly, then turns his attention back to the phone.
“Actually, we’ve been dating for four months.” Javy explains, his lips tugging at a smile. He won’t quite let himself give into it. They’re both pretending that he isn’t standing there barely dressed.
Jake raises his brows. “Wow. Dating… you didn’t say anything when I was here last.”
“You didn’t tell us that you were sleeping with the President’s daughter.” Javy retaliates, this time giving into the amusement and letting a smirk plaster itself across his angled features.
Rooster looks up quickly and shoots a stern look across at his boyfriend. When they had discussed what they would say to Jake if they saw him during all of this, they had specifically agreed not to come at him head on.
Jake makes himself smile. “Dating. I guess. More than fucking, anyway.”
Doesn’t feel right to say that he might have found the love of his life, not when they all thought he had found it before.
Javy smiles back at him, arms folded across his bare chest. He gives a small nod. “So… are you really going to be a dad?”
Rooster looks up again, this time handing the phone back to Jake. Both of them stare at him now. The Hangman they knew back then would be taking this news a lot worse.
“I don’t know. I hope not.” The hope isn’t that there’s no baby because he doesn’t want one with you. That’s clear. He just can’t let you go through that without him right by your side. He wants more for you right now. He wants independence, and privacy. He wants whatever you want, and you’ve never once signaled to him that that would be a baby.
“Well… we were just going to watch the game later. If you wanted to hang out here, take your mind off things.” Bradley offers, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. Jake glances over towards Javy, then back. Then, down at the phone in his hand. It’s probably not cool to steal Rooster’s phone.
“Yeah, okay.” Jake decides quietly.
There’re a small clock in the corner of the TV screen. Jake sinks into Bradley’s couch, his arms crossed over his chest, and watches the minutes tick by. Bradley and Javy sit either side of him trying to prompt the conversation onward.
If this was a couple of years ago, Jake would be cracking jokes and this would feel as natural as breathing. Now, even breathing doesn’t feel all that natural. Each inhale feels like winding clock hands into place. Every exhale feels like he’s in flight school feeling that G-Force nausea again for the first time.
He wishes he hadn’t let it get this bad. That he hadn’t let these guys become strangers. He wishes he would have been there when Rooster and Coyote started dating, so he could figure it out before everyone else and bet Phoenix out of twenty dollars. He wonders if she knows yet.
“So, is my phone number gonna get put on a CIA watch list or something?” Rooster asks, one arm tucked behind his head and a beer in his hand. Jake almost scoffs at the idea, then stops to consider it. Maybe, actually. He turns his head to look at Rooster.
“Worried they’re going to hear all those voicemails Mav leaves you reminding you to water your plants?” Javy taunts from the other side of Jake. Jake snorts, looking between the two of them.
“You’re a farmer now, too, huh?” Jake chimes in.
“Oh yeah. Chillies, herbs, tomatoes, zucchini. He’s even got little gloves he wears when he gardens.” Javy spills, making Jake laugh for the first time. This next inhale feels softer, a little more natural. Making fun of Rooster will always feel natural.
Four hours away, your vow of silence still hasn’t let up. For the first time all day, you’ve moved from the couch. Allen had watched you stand up, slamming the laptop lid shut and tucking the thing under your arm. It hasn’t left your side in a day and a half.
If he’s right, and you’ve orchestrated this entire thing so far, he knows that it doesn’t stop with a scandal. No, you’re going right for the jugular with this thing. He trails behind you, footsteps quiet on the rug. And yet, you hear him anyway.
He stumbles as you round on him, doing his best to slow down and not completely mow you over in his stride. Those crows feet and sun-aged freckles aren’t fooling you, that stern-looking old man hasn’t ever been able to stop you doing anything.
“Why are you following me, Allen?”
He narrows those grey eyes at you and leans closer, “What the hell are you up to? — Don’t lie to me.”
Briefly, he’s met with silence. As much silence as is possible in your life. Downstairs is still buzzing with life, with phone calls. The entire house is trying to clean up the mess you made, all at once. Just like you wanted them to. Now, they’re all busy.
“I’m keeping a promise that I made to my dad.” You shrug. It’s the truth, in simple terms. You promised him you were going to ruin him, and that man raised you not to quit.
Allen looks heavenward, resting his hands on his hips. He remembers the day he met you, and how angry you were back then. Far too often since that day, he has found himself thinking of what he would say to you if you were one of his daughters. He sniffs, then exhales, dropping his neck and studying the carpet.
“I spoke to Jake today. He saw the news and he called me.” This time, when he lifts his gaze and looks at you, his jaw sets and his brows knit together. You might not be one of his daughters, but he knows you like you are. “I’m gonna let you speak to him, and you’re going to promise me something, kid.”
For the first time all day, that indifferent, angry look drops from your face and Allen sees you for what you are. Devastated. You nod your head furiously, blinking at him. “Anything.”
His expression dullens, eyes growing stormy. “You’ll drop this. Whatever you’re planning, whatever you’re doing — you’ll let it go.”
Your face blanks in front of him, then calms. You’re poker-facing him, he knows that look. He has known how to recognise it since you were young. Still, he waits for your answer.
“Okay.” You tell him, straightening out your mouth, giving him a curt nod.
Swiftly, he takes one step forwards and invades your space. He has let you get away with too much for too long. He acknowledges now, after he had retired, you would probably be dead if it wasn’t for Jake. He won’t make the same mistake twice.
“No. I’m serious. Swear to me that you won’t do anything stupid.”
If his definition of anything stupid is even remotely similar to Jake’s, you’re confident that you will have already disappointed the both of them. They would never approve. It’s not safe. But you’re not made of glass, and the things you have found could change everything.
It’s scary, really, the way you’re able to relax your face so solemnly. Allen’s been looking at that face almost every day for the last seven years, and you still manage to fool him.
“I swear. I swear that I’ll leave it alone, if you let me speak to him.”
Jake gets the call just after seven. He practically throws Coyote out of the way heading for the door. He staggers out onto the back porch and rests his hand against the stair railing, bracing his weight.
“Jake?”
For the past four nights straight, Jake’s subconscious has subjected him to nothing but your voice, strained in terror and pain, calling out for help. To hear it now, soft and calm — it feels like Jake’s lungs untwist and he can inhale deeper.
“Fuck, honey, I missed you.” He breathes out all at once, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Faintly, he can hear the soft whimper you make on the other end. The slight sniffle. He can’t see you, and he doesn’t ask to confirm, but he knows that you’re laying in his bed. It’s not just wishful thinking. He just knows that if he got in his car and drove there now, that’s where he would find you.
He likes the idea. If he has to wake up alone, at least he knows you’re still waking up in his bed somehow.
“I miss you so much.” You tell him quietly, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, his comforter hugged to your chest. With your eyes closed, it’s easier to pretend that he’s here with you.
“I have to ask. You’re not… — You aren’t—?”
“No, shit. I’m sorry. No.” You remember, giving a quick shake of your head. “I’m not. I’m not.”
Jake exhales and takes two steps down from the porch, shuffling down, settling onto his back on the grass. “I’ve been thinking all day about it. We haven’t talked about kids.”
“No, but it’s fine. I only said—“
“I want that,” Jake tells the sky, the phone pressed so close to his ear that he can listen to you breathing. “One day, I want to hear that news and I want us to be happy. And I want it to be our news, just ours. At least for a while.”
You press your face into the cold fabric of his pillow, letting it soak up the tears on your cheeks. He listens to you breathe a little while longer. It’s not what he’s used to. If you were really here, you’d be closer. Each of your exhales would fan out across his chest.
“I…” You almost tell him that you want that too, and it’s ridiculous but in that split-second, it just sounds too daunting. After all you’ve been through. All that the two of you have faced together. You’re just too scared to tell him. “I’m so sick of living like this.”
“I know, sweet girl, I know.” Jake murmurs. He’s so close to the phone that your mind fills in that blanks and you swear you feel the rumble in his chest that you only hear when you’re laying on him.
If you ever want any semblance of the life that Jake wants to give you, something has to give. You’ve got to be brave about it. It was never going to be easy.
“I really love you.” You tell him quietly, pulling his pillow close against your body. Jake blinks up at the sky and just for a moment wishes he was back home. At least there, the sky’s dark enough for him to pick out constellations. There, he would have something to focus on other than how empty he feels without you.
“I love you too, so much. I - I can’t stop thinking about you. Tell me you’re okay. Tell me what you’ve been doing.” He’s rambling a little. Salty tears spill onto your lips as they twist into a sad smile. If he wants to hear that you’re okay, that’s what you’ll tell him. The lie comes just as easily to Jake as it had in the promise you had made to Allen.
If you’re brave now, you’ve got the chance to make things right.
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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months
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It Can’t Be That Bad - Part 2
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➪the one where bradley fixes his mistake.
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, once again a pain kink, arguments, fighting, descriptions of injuries, jake and bradley brawl for quick a minute, bradley being whipped for you, age gap, oral (f receiving), body worship, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 9.6k | Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The Bronco was barely in park before Bradley was pulling out the keys and swinging the door open. He stuffs them into his pocket, along with his phone and wallet, as he enters the Hard Deck, his free hand fumbling to take off his aviators. His eyes scan the busy bar, looking for any glimpse of you.
After a full sweep of the room, he spots you over by the bar, phone in hand and a smile on your face that was so clearly forced, Bradley felt his heart clench at the sight of it. He stopped short of reaching you when he clued in to the person next to you, the man being the same one who introduced you to him in the first place. “Fucking Hangman,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the way Jake inched closer to you.
You were sitting on a stool while Jake loomed over you, both of you holding a beer in your hands. From Bradley’s point of view, you and Jake looked like a couple who were having a hard time trying not to jump each other’s bones right here and now, and an ugly feeling began creeping up his throat. 
Bradley supposed that was what you and he looked like when you ventured out to the bar together, back before he fucked up and stupidly let you go. 
That was the nice way of putting it. 
He rejected you. You gave him your heart and he threw it back at you without a second thought. He pushed you away without thinking about how it would make you feel, despite him feeling the exact same way, perhaps even stronger. 
Just the sight of you had all the air leaving his lungs. You are so beautiful and so caring and genuine to those around you. How could he ever let you believe you weren’t good enough for him? 
The last six weeks were ones he never wanted to experience ever again. He hated having no one to come home to, and he hated how it could’ve easily been you waiting on that dock for him, had he returned your feelings. The next time he was deployed, he desperately wanted you to be there for him when he got back. He wanted to come home to you. 
Without really having a plan in mind, Bradley made his way over to the bar, the crowded space making it a bit tough. He was a big guy, though, and used it to his advantage on the rare occasions when he felt he needed to. Like right now. 
He pushed past Bob, who had moved to greet him, but Bradley just gave him a quick pat on the back as he passed him. When he was a few feet away, he met Jake’s eyes and watched as he leaned down towards you.
Before Jake could give you the warning that he was right behind you, Bradley closed the distance and moved to stand on the other side of you. “Y/n,” he said, nearly breathless at being near you again after six weeks without you. 
You stiffen and glance over at him before turning to Jake and glaring at him. “Thanks for the warning,” you mutter and Jake just held his hands up in defense, making no move to walk away and give you some alone time with Bradley, like he so desperately wanted. 
“Hey, I tried,” he defended himself, reaching over and grabbing his bottle of beer. “Rooster’s fast when he needs to be, I guess.”
“Y/n,” Bradley said again and ignored Jake as he brought your attention back to him, refraining from placing his hand on the small of your back like he always did when you were beside him at the bar. “Can we talk, please?”
You looked up at him with a near-blank expression before sighing, running the tip of your index finger around the rim of the bottle in front of you. “I don’t think we need to, Bradley,” you answered and he furrowed his brows.
“Why not?” He asked, shaking his head slightly when you began to stand up. “You said we’d-”
“I didn’t,” you cut him off as you stepped backwards and towards Jake, who just placed his hand on your hip, surely knowing it would make Bradley see red. “I said I’d see you tonight, not that I would talk to you. I didn’t come here with you, Bradley, so there’s no reason I need to talk to you.”
Your words felt like a punch directly to his heart, and he just stared at you when Jake guided you away from the bar and towards the pool tables. He stayed still, his eyes burning a hole in the back of Jake’s head as the man showed off just how good he was at the game.
“Hey, Rooster,” Penny’s kind voice said from beside him. “Want your usual?”
But Bradley just shook his head, never tearing his eyes away from the scene in front of him. Fucking. Hangman. “Not tonight,” he answered as Jake pulled you into his side, mirroring the way Bradley did just six weeks prior. “Give me something stronger.”
Six shots and two beers later, and Bradley was just now starting to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system. He wasn’t planning on drinking much tonight, not when he was so sure he’d actually get the chance to explain himself. But you had been glued to Jake all night, similar to the way you used to be before he introduced you to Bradley and you then became attached to his hip, instead. 
And Bradley just watched. He felt like just another guy at the bar who was jealous of someone else’s relationship. Is this how the other men who frequented the Hard Deck felt when they saw you and Bradley all over each other? 
Was he seriously just another guy?
That’s exactly what he felt like as he sipped on his beer, glaring at the way Jake’s hand slowly but surely inched further down your back. He bit back a disapproving grunt, knowing Jake had to be doing this just to rile him up.
He introduced you as his friend, and now that you weren’t associated with Bradley anymore, Jake was suddenly all over you? 
He felt a sick feeling creeping up his throat as he thought about all the times Jake had taken you to the Hard Deck and acted like how he currently is now with you while Bradley was deployed. 
He assumed it had been more than once at this point, because no one seemed too fazed by the pair of you and seemed to have forgotten that it had been Bradley with you for nearly six months straight. 
He knew he didn’t have the right to be jealous, but he was. 
He hated the fact that you could’ve so easily been with him right now since you had made it clear that you were willing to wait for him because you were falling for him.
God, he had never felt this pathetic in all his years of life. He was a mere few weeks away from turning thirty five and he had shut down the one girl he could actually picture himself settling down with, and now he was drinking alone at a bar, staring at said girl as if he didn’t already have his chance with her. 
Nat had shown up at some point and tried to get him to talk to her, but he just gave her short answers and didn’t hold any conversations. She grew even more frustrated with him and ended up leaving her spot next to him so she could throw darts with Fanboy. 
Bradley had just finished off his third beer when he saw Jake lean down to press his lips to the spot behind your ear, making you laugh quietly as you as you playfully pushed him away.
Yeah, he’s seen enough. 
Bradley threw a few twenties on the bar before standing up from the stool, his body swaying at the sudden movement. He stumbled his way over to you, ignoring the flash of dread that covered your face as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist. “We need to talk,” he said sternly, keeping his eyes on you and pulling you away from Jake. 
“Why? Are you looking for another night of just fun?” You asked as you pulled your arm from his grip once you were standing on the deck outside. “That’s all it was, right?”
“That’s not all it was,” he muttered, the cool air not doing much to calm him down like he hoped it would.  
You narrow your eyes at him. “But you said-”
“I know what I said!” He cut you off, instantly regretting his inability to keep calm during a moment like this when he saw the way you flinched back slightly. He breathed out heavily, gently taking your hand in his as he continued, “I know, okay? Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last six weeks.”
He thought since you hadn’t pulled your hand away from his yet, that maybe you were actually willing to give him a chance to explain himself, but your next words proved him wrong, “Wow, really? Me too,” you said sarcastically. “Do you know how humiliating it was for me to explain to Jake that I had told you how I felt, just to have you throw it back at me as if you didn’t care at all? It was mortifying, Bradley, to tell you that I was falling for you and have you act as if it was the worst thing you had ever heard.”
You pulled your hand away from him and he swayed slightly at the fast movement. “I never wanted you to feel that way, Y/n/n,” he tried, but you just placed your hand flat against his chest.
“And you’re drunk,” you give him a firm push, successfully putting a decent amount of space between the two of you. “You won’t even remember this tomorrow, so why do I even bother?”
“Please, Y/n,” he begged, trying to step towards you but you just shook your head. “I missed you so much. I really, really want to talk things through with you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” was all you muttered as you walked towards the stairs. “If Jake asks where I am, tell him I went home. I don’t need him worrying about me more than he already is.”
Bradley wanted to spit something out in spite, but held back as he watched your retreating form head off in the direction of your car. With a heavy sigh and another urge to down the first drink he saw, he headed back into the bar. 
As he made his way towards Nat, Jake stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Rooster,” he said over the music. “Where did Y/n go? Don’t tell me she’s outside waiting for you after believing whatever bullshit story you told her.”
Bradley muttered something under his breath as he turned to face the man. “She went home,” he replied, shoving Jake’s hand off his shoulder with more force than he needed to. 
“Hey, man, don’t get mad at me,” Jake said with an eye roll. “I’m the one who looked after her while you were away. I’m the one who made her smile again when she came back from dropping you off in tears.”
Bradley felt his skin heating up, not wanting to talk to the man anymore, and especially not about you. “Jake,” he warned. “Don’t.”
But Jake only laughed. “Don’t what, Rooster? What?” He asked with a certain hostility to his voice. “Do you know how it makes me feel to know I practically pushed her into your arms and had to watch as she got her heart broken? You might not be her friend, Bradshaw, but I am. And you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here tonight and asking to speak with her.”
Taking another deep breath, Bradley tried to ignore all the eyes that were beginning to stare at him as the two aviators glared at each other. “I’m serious, Hangman, lay off,” 
You were right, he was drunk and not in the right state of mind to think rationally at this point. He needed to leave now before he did something he regretted. Before he did something that would further fuel your distaste for him.
“I don’t think I will,” Jake continued to push him. “See, you can be an dick to me all you want, but being a dick to Y/n is where I have a problem. She might want to forget it ever happened, but I won’t let you forget just how nice of a girl you let slip away. Truthfully, you never deserved her, and I’m mad at myself for introducing her to you, seeing how it worked out so well.”
“Enough,” Bradley nearly yelled, noticing that someone had stopped the music and that most of the patrons had gathered around at this point, including Nat, who gave him a look of warning. “Back off, Seresin, I mean it.”
He went to turn away, but Jake had other plans. “Or what? You gonna publicly humiliate me, too? Or is that just something you like to do to Y/n-” Bradley didn’t hear the rest as he quickly turned back around and punched Jake square in the nose. 
Jake stumbled back while Nat rushed forward to pull on Bradley’s arm. “Jesus, Bradley, are you crazy?!” She asked as she turned him to face her, but as soon as he took his eyes off Jake, the blond swung back and knocked him back a few feet.
Nat’s grip on Bradley loosened as he stumbled back, his hand reaching up to grip the side of his face as his head began to spin. 
Fanboy and Coyote held Jake back while Nat grabbed Bradley again. Penny rushed in and stood between the men with angry eyes and a bite to her tone. “Both of you, out. Now,” she said in a voice that left no room for arguments. 
Jake just glared at Bradley as he left the Hard Deck, Fanboy following quickly after him. 
Nat wrapped her arm around her best friend’s middle as she guided him out to the parking lot. “You’re wasted, Bradley,” she scolded as she led him over to her car. 
He narrowed his eyes, still holding his face with one hand while his other gripped her shoulder. “Where are we going? I didn’t park over here,” he mumbled and heard her scoff in response. 
“You didn’t think I was going to let you drive home after all this, did you?”
Bradley stopped, making her stop as well as he turned to give her an annoyed look. “I am not leaving my Bronco here overnight,” he stated and she rolled her eyes, holding out her free hand. 
“Fine,” she grunted. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”
Bradley did as he was told, placing the keys in her hand as he asked, “What about your car?”
“I’ll just crash at your place tonight and you can drive me home in the morning before work so I can change. I’ll pick up my car later,” she mumbled, pulling the passenger door open for him but leaving him to get himself in the car as she made her way to the driver’s side. 
After he hoisted himself into the car, Bradley rested his head against the window, the cool glass soothing the burn he felt on the right side of his face.
As Nat started the Bronco and set off in the direction of his house, she let the tense atmosphere grow thicker and thicker until she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “What were you thinking? Going off on Hangman like that? You know how protective he is over her, there was no way you were winning that one,”
Bradley just shrugged, his eyes feeling heavy as he stared out the dark window. “I miss her, Nat,” he murmured. “I’m in love with her.”
Nat looked over at him in surprise. She knew he felt strongly about you, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he loved you, but to witness him finally admit it to himself was a bit shocking. “Have you told her that?” She asked, lowering her voice as she realized he was letting himself be vulnerable with her. 
“I wanted to, as soon as I got there,” he lifted his head and sat up a bit straighter, despite his body begging him to let it rest. “I was going to, but she was with Jake. She looked happy. She didn’t want to talk to me.”
Nat sighed heavily. “So make her talk to you,”
“I tried,” he rasped, his throat dry and his face sore. He made a mental note to never take the first swing at Jake Seresin ever again. “I tried to explain myself, but she just wanted to leave at that point.”
“Well, obviously,” Nat muttered, pulling onto his street. “You got drunk and couldn’t keep your eyes off her all night. She probably thought you just wanted to sleep with her again.”
When she pulled into his driveway, she turned off the car and moved so she was facing him. He looked back at her with tired eyes and a red cheek. “I want to be with her, Nat. I want us to be together,”
Her eyes stared into his for a few seconds before she sighed and pulled out the keys. “So tell her that. Sober, this time. Tell her everything, and don’t let her leave without her knowing how you really feel. I bet she still feels the same way,”
Bradley scoffed as he blindly reached for the handle. “Right,” he mumbled as he got out of the car. “I’m sure she’s still in love with the guy who walked away after she gave him her heart, and then that same guy gave her every mixed signal in return.”
Nat rolled her eyes as she got out of the car as well and helped him into the house. She led him down the hall to his room, where she pushed him down onto his covers and lifted his legs so he was laying down. “You need to tell her, Bradley,” she said quietly as she pulled his boots off and dropped them to the floor. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, alright? Everyone has. If you could just admit your feelings to one another, you could be great together.”
Bradley looked at his best friend with hooded eyes, completely vulnerable as he wore his heart on his sleeve. “What if she doesn’t want me back?” He asked in defeat, not wanting to think about the possibility that he had truly blown his one shot with you. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”
Nat stared down at him as she sat next to him, trying to think of what to say that would make him feel even a little bit better. “Then at least you’ll know,” she offered, watching the way his shoulders dropped in dread. “And I’ll be right here, scolding you for letting her get away, but also applauding you for not going down without a fight.”
She leaned forward and kissed the mark on his face from Jake’s fist. 
“Literally,”
Bradley huffed out a laugh as he watched her stand up and turn off the lights before disappearing down the hall towards the guest room. 
She was right, like always. 
He needed to tell you how he felt, he needed to tell you what he should’ve told you that day on the dock.
But most of all, he just needed you. 
-
Bradley was met with a bruised cheek when he was finally able to pull himself out of bed the next morning. His head was pounding and his throat was dry, making him think back to his college days where he would drink into the early hours of the morning and wake up with countless hangovers. 
He felt awful, similar to how he felt back when he was a twenty year old frat boy who had no idea what to do with his life. 
Waking up in his own bed without you felt foreign. He had gotten so used to falling asleep with you in his arms and waking up with you, he didn’t know what to do with himself. 
For what felt like the millionth time, Bradley wished his parents were here. He wanted to be able to confide in his mom, and be chewed out by his dad, then watch his mom chew out his dad for chewing him out. 
He knew that if they were still here, he wouldn’t be in this situation because both his mom and his dad would’ve called him out for stringing you along like he did, way before he even realized his true feelings for you.
Since he had fallen asleep on top of the covers, he didn’t need to worry about making the bed. He left it the way you had neatly made it up the day you drove him to the carrier ship, numbly pulling on his work clothing before grabbing his phone. Nat had thankfully put it on charge, so he had a full battery to go into work with. 
When he made his way to the kitchen, he found his best friend sitting at the island, a coffee mug in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. She gave him a quick wave as she slowly slid the second coffee mug across the counter. “Drink up, Roozie,” she said as she finished her toast, gathering up all the crumbs in her palm before brushing them off in the sink. 
Bradley grunted as he sipped on the coffee, his head still pounding. “Think I’m going to need more than one of these to get me through today,” he muttered, eyeing Nat as she wandered around his house in the clothing she wore last night. “I have some clothes you could wear, if you want.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. Save that offer for when you win Y/n back and she raids your closet again,” she winked, making him groan quietly at the image of you wearing his clothes. “I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, here, but when she wore your shirt at the Hard Deck the day before your deployment? I can’t believe you didn’t make things official right then and there.”
Bradley finished his coffee, setting the mug down in the crumb-littered sink as he turned to face her. “Don’t remind me,” 
She held her hands up. “Right, sorry,” she said before grabbing her phone from off the counter. “Anyway, we should get going. The sooner you’re done with work, the sooner you can work on getting your girlfriend back.”
She was testing him, but he just shook his head, not bothering to correct her as he grabbed his keys from where she threw them onto the table beside the door last night. 
At work, Bradley laid low for a while, only talking to those who talked to him, and avoiding Jake like the plague. He was doing a pretty decent job, until he ran into him in the cafeteria. 
Jake was sporting a bruised nose, and Bradley wished he could find joy in the fact that he did that, but he knew that when you saw it, you’d be even more pissed with him than you already are. 
Bradley also knew he looked worse, but that was only because he had thrown the first punch. Just another thing that was entirely his fault. 
He didn’t say anything to Jake as he walked past him and ended up leaving the cafeteria altogether, pulling his phone out on his way to the tarmac. He clicked on your contact and brought the phone up to his ear before he could talk himself out of it. 
Really, he was embarrassed about how he acted last night, but he also wanted to forget about it all and get you back. If that meant owning up to his dumb actions from the previous evening, then so be it. 
He braced himself against the side of the building by placing his palm flat against the wall, his grip on his phone tightening the longer he was met with the obnoxious ringing sound.
Just as he was about to hang up and call again, you answered with a sharp, “What?” 
Though your voice wasn’t super friendly at the moment, Bradley couldn’t help but let a feeling of hope wash over him because you had actually picked up. Sure, you took your sweet time doing it, but you still answered his call. “Hey, Y/n/n,” he said in a much softer tone than he used last night. “I can’t talk for long because I’m at work, but I just needed to say something.”
You waited a heartbeat or two before replying with a cautious, “Okay? What?” 
He huffed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before he opened his mouth in an apology, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I was an asshole last night, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk to me. You were right, I was drunk and had no business trying to get you to talk with me when I was like that,” he said in one go, stumbling over a few of his words, but continuing nonetheless, “And I’m sorry for what I said to you back on the dock. I didn’t realize it then, but you told me everything I wanted to hear, I just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
It was silent on your end for a bit, and he could picture you chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say to him. A few more seconds pass before you finally break the silence. “Well, thanks for apologizing,” your voice was much quieter than before, and you sounded much more willing to actually talk to him. 
And he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to keep you talking to him. “Like I said, I’m at work…but I really want to see you later, explain why I said what I did and how much of a fucking idiot I’ve been, if you’ll let me,” he nearly whispered the last part. “Come over later? Please? I promise, it’s not just me wanting to have fun with you, because that was never all it was for me. I can’t believe I even said that.”
You sighed and he prepared himself for the rejection he knew he deserved, but you surprised him as you asked, “Six, right? That’s when you’re off?”
Bradley pushed himself off the wall and looked around at the empty tarmac before answering, “Yeah, yes,” he quickly spoke. “Six.”
“Okay,” you murmured, your next words making a grin break out on his face. “I’ll be there for seven, maybe seven thirty if I begin to have second thoughts.”
And then you hung up, and Bradley was left standing by himself, smiling like he had just won the lottery, when in reality, he had just won something so much better. 
-
After quickly dropping Nat off at the Hard Deck so she could get her car, Bradley was speeding home in a way that was similar to when he floored it when you informed him you’d see him there yesterday. 
He quickly unlocked the door and stripped on his way to his bathroom for a shower, not wanting the way he had started to sweat after you confirmed that you’d come over later be the first thing you were met with when you arrived. 
He switched his shirt probably around four times before settling on a simple black tee and dark jeans. He paced the length of his living room for nearly twenty minutes before stopping abruptly and pulling out his phone to check the time. 
It was nearing seventy thirty, and Bradley began to think you really were having second thoughts, but he wasn’t able to dwell on it for long before he heard the sounds of knocking coming from his front door. 
He pocketed his phone and made his way to the door within three strides, pulling it open to reveal you in a cute oversized tee that was tucked into your jean shorts. It was similar to the way you looked when he took you to the Hard Deck, and while he knew you thought it was just a casual outfit, Bradley thought you never looked better. 
But then again, he found you hot in any kind of clothing, so he was a bit biased. 
“Hi,” he said when he opened the door, trying not to let his eyes wander too much. 
“Hi,” you said back, hesitantly meeting his eye with a forced smile that faltered when you caught sight of the bruise on his cheek. If you wanted to say anything about it, you held back and he could appreciate your ability to bite your tongue when you needed to. “Sorry, I really didn’t know if I was coming tonight.” You add when he stepped aside and allowed you to enter his house. 
He closed the door behind you, following you into the living room as he shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re here,”
You slowly sat down on the couch, awkwardly gazing up at him as if you had no business being there. As if he hadn’t fucked you into the very cushions you were sat on more times than he could count on one hand. As if he hadn’t blown off plans with his friends so he could hold you on this couch while you watched movie after movie instead. 
You bit your lip as you thought of what to say, and Bradley had to look away quickly before you really began to think he just wanted you here so you could get him off. “So….how was your day?”
Had things really become that bad? To the point where that was the only thing you could think of asking him?
“It was fine,” he answered as he moved to sit down next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your thigh and his. You didn’t look uncomfortable yet, so he safely assumed you had no problem with him slightly invading your personal space. “How was yours?”
Oh, yeah. This was bad.
“It was fine,” you repeated his answer, and you quickly realized that as you added, “Yeah, it was good.”
“Good,” someone kill him now. This was not how he wanted to start this night off with you. 
Before he could mentally call himself out on how dumb he was acting, you asked him, “Can I ask what happened to your face?” Your tone held a sliver of humor, a teasing smile on your lips that quickly had the awkward tension begin to dissolve. 
He laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, it happened last night,”
You nodded, raising a brow when he didn’t continue. “What, did you run face first into a door or something?”
“No, Jake punched me,” he said and watched the way your small grin dropped and how your eyes widened. You open your mouth in concern, but he quickly added, “After I punched him.” 
Your concerned expression drops even quicker as you break eye contact with him and run your tongue along the underside of your teeth. “Uh,” you refrain from completely losing your cool before you heard what exactly went down. “Why, exactly, did you punch him?”
When you didn’t turn to look at him again, Bradley shrugged. “Because you came with him and not me,” 
That had you turning to look over at him. “What?” You asked in disbelief. “Seriously? You were jealous?”
He sat up a bit straighter as he began to feel like he was being interrogated. “Yeah, I was,” he answered, cutting you off before you could even say anything, “He kept making very valid points to me about how I fucked things up and how I never deserved you in the first place, and he was making too much sense so I punched him.” 
You squinted at him but then suddenly laughed when you realized he was being serious. “Oh, my God, Bradley,” you scolded. “You can’t just go around punching people because they were making too much sense, especially Jake.”
“I was drunk,” he weakly defended himself, but sighed right alongside you when you gave him an unimpressed look. “I know that’s not an excuse.” 
“You’re right,” you agreed, fighting back a dumb grin at the fact that you had actually managed to make him jealous without even trying to. “It’s not.”
Bradley shook his head as he, too, fought off an embarrassed smile. “I was just so unbelievably jealous when I walked in and saw you under his arm, because I knew that could’ve been me had I not turned you down,”
You look away quickly as the memory of that day comes spiraling back. “So…why did you?” You asked quietly as you placed with the silver ring you wore on your right index finger. “Turn me down? Was it really because I’m too young for you? Because I read too much into things?”
“No,” he quickly answered, turning his body towards yours. “God, no, that wasn’t it at all. I was just…an idiot, to put it simply. I was too afraid to give in and admit to myself that I felt the exact same way that you did.”
“But why?” You asked and lifted your gaze to meet his. “Why were you afraid? It’s just me.”
“I know,” he held back on referring to you with one of the many pet names he had given you during the last six months. “And it wasn’t you, I promise. This is all on me and my stupid trust issues and my inability to realize just how good I had it until it was gone…until you were gone.”
You press your lips into a thin line as you process his words. “You could’ve just told me that, instead of making me feel like I was just one big mistake to you,” 
Bradley felt his heart crack at that, a heat pooling in his bones as he realized just how much his words truly affected you. “You are not a mistake,” he said, sounding more serious than he had ever sounded before. “You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and Jake was right, I never deserved to have you in the way I did.”
“Bradley-”
“No, it’s true. We were so fucking good together, and it felt so right with you, and all it took for me to fuck it up was you admiting what we both already knew; that it was so much more than just us hooking up,” he was surprised how easy it was for him to open up to you, seeing as the only other person he could be vulnerable with was Nat, but he knew you wouldn’t make him feel bad for showing you this side of him. “There was something there between us, and there still is for me, and I’m so sorry I let you believe that there wasn’t.”
Your eyes flickered all over his face and you thought back to how differently he looked at you six weeks ago. Back then he looked so cold and came off as arrogant, but now he looked genuine, like he truly meant every word he told you. Maybe that was why you felt yourself beginning to break down the walls you had put up the second he had broken your heart. “So, what do you feel between us now? How do you feel about me?”
When Bradley met your eyes, he saw that same vulnerability you had when you confessed your feelings for him. You were giving him the second chance he had wanted for weeks now, and he would not let you get away again. 
He took your hand in his as his knee brushed yours. “I feel that, given the chance to prove myself to you, we could be just as good together as we were before. No, we could be even better,” he emphasized the last word and watched as the last bit of reluctance faded from your eyes. “And as for how I feel about you? I don’t think I’m falling for you.”
When he felt your grip on his hand loosen, and saw the way your eyes pricked with unshed tears, he quickly moved closer to you. 
“I know I’m in love with you,” he added, “And I have been for half a year now.”
A second or two passes before a big grin spreads across your face, and you reach up with your free hand to grip the side of his face, letting your thumb brush against his scars. “You’re in love with me?” You asked, desperate to know he wasn’t just messing with you in hopes to get you back to how things were before. “You’re really in love with me?”
Bradley just nodded, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand as he said the thing he should’ve a month and a half ago, “I love you,” 
You smile again and refrain from jumping on him right then and there. 
“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he adds, looking down at your joined hands and missing the way your brows furrowed in disbelief. “I can wait, I just needed to tell you that-”
You cut him off by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his in a kiss that leaves you both feeling dizzy. “Are you kidding me?” You against his mouth, removing your hand from his in order to grip the back of his neck. “Of course I love you. I have for months.”
Bradley was barely able to grin back at you before your mouth was covering his once again, and his hands were gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “I missed you so much,” he murmured in between kisses. “I regretted what I said the second I saw you crying and I was too far away to do anything about it. It felt like I had left my heart back on that dock with you.”
You push him so he’s sitting back against the couch, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him as you straddle his lap. “So,” you pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, laughing afterwards when he quickly guided you into another one as you pulled away. “You don’t think I’m too young and immature for you?” 
Bradley closed his eyes when he felt your lips latch onto his neck, groaning as you began to suck a mark onto his skin. “Fuck no,” he answered, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your shorts and pulling your hips forward to create the smallest bit of friction. “You’re more mature than most of the people I work with.”
You hum in approval, running your tongue over the fresh mark he would proudly wear at work tomorrow. “And you’re okay with us being in two different places in our lives?”
“I don’t care where we are,” he confirmed, guiding your lips back to his in a bruising kiss. “Just as long as I’m with you.”
“Good answer,” you kiss him again as your fingers begin to work on the zipper of his jeans. 
“Wait,” he reluctantly pulls away from your mouth, his hold on your hips making you halt your mission on his zipper. 
“What’s wrong?” You quickly ask, worried you’d overstepped a boundary without realizing it.
But Bradley just playfully scoffed at you, lifting you up and turning so you were laying against the couch and he was hovering over you. He unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs, a deep groan leaving the back of his throat when he caught sight of the black lace that covered your core from him. “You just told me you love me and gave me a second chance,” he stated as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your inner thigh. “Nothing could be wrong after that.”
You stifle a quiet laugh, a moan slipping out instead when he placed a kiss to your clothed clit.
His fingers pulled down the lace and dropped the fabric to the floor next to your shorts as he muttered, “It’s been way too long since I tasted you,” before he began to devour you like a starved man. 
He supposed he was as he missed the sweet taste that only belonged to you so much. 
Your head leaned back against the decorative pillow on the armrest of the couch, your hand instinctively going straight to his hair. Bradley groaned against you at the subtle tug he received, growing harder in his jeans as he pulled your legs so they’re resting over his shoulders. 
The vibration had you clenching around nothing, a low whine escaping your parted lips. “Bradley,” you gasped quietly when he nudged your folds apart with his nose before licking a flat strip up the center of you. 
“Say my name again,” he softly demanded, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you even closer to his awaiting tongue. “Who’s making you feel good right now?”
“You,” it came out as a breath when he wrapped his lips around your clit, and you clenched tightly around nothing. “It’s you, Bradley. Fuck.”
“That’s right, baby,” he praised and the name had your eyes squeezing shut. “You’re so good for me, taste so fucking good.” 
Butterflies erupted in your body at his sweet but absolutely filthy words. “Bradley,” you nearly whispered, tugging a bit harder on his hair as you knew it would drive him crazy. “I missed you.”
Like you expected he would, a deep growl once again sent vibrations up your body and once again had you clenching around nothing. “I missed you, too, sweet girl, fuck, did I ever,” he muttered against your throbbing clit, the soft graze of his teeth making your breath hitch in your throat. “I missed you for six weeks straight, missed you when I got home and saw that you had taken out all your things you had in here. I want you to put it all back and never take them out again.”
You whimpered at his words and the possessiveness that laced them. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were asking me to move in with you,” you tried to make your voice sound teasing, but you were completely at his mercy right now and not even close to being in control.   
“Good idea,” he replied and your heart skipped a beat at what he was insinuating. You didn’t have time to dwell on what he meant by that before he was continuing, “Move in with me, please?”
Bradley knew he was moving too fast, but he felt as if he had already wasted so much time being away from you the last six weeks, he didn’t want to waste anymore. He needed you in his life, wanted to pick up on your habits and come home to a house full of yours and his things. 
He wanted to share his life with you in all the ways he didn’t before. He wouldn’t fuck this up again, and he wanted you to know just how serious he is about you and how serious he is about starting an official relationship with you.
You could hardly focus on what he was asking you to do. His tongue had slid back down your folds and penetrated you just slightly, your wetness coating the muscle as he lapped at you. 
He knew it wasn’t fair to ask you that while he was currently tongue fucking you, but in all fairness, you were the one who technically brought it up. “Please,” he begged against your heat. “Say you’ll move in with me, spend every night with me in our own bed, in our own house.”
His offer only sounded better and better, almost as good as his mouth felt against your throbbing clit. “Bradley,” 
“We’d be together everyday,” he rasped and you practically came from just his promises. When his mouth was back on you a second later, he grinned at the extra wetness he felt and took pride in the way he got you off at the idea of moving in together. He licked you clean before moving back up your body and hovering over you. “It could be like this every night.”
You moan quietly when he presses a soft kiss to your mouth. 
He ended it all too quickly as he slowly licked his lips that still tasted like you before asking, “So, what do you say?”
“Yes,” you were finally able to properly answer him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him closer to you. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”
You share a couple more heated kisses before you pull away and gaze up at him with an unreadable emotion swimming in your eyes. Bradley caught on to the sudden change, and he reached his hand up to caress the side of your face. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking your head, you huff quietly and gently bump your nose against his. “Nothing,” you answer. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…This is all I’ve ever wanted for months. It’s hard to believe it’s actually happening.”
Bradley physically felt his heart skip a beat as he thought about all the pain he had put you through, and not even as recent as six weeks ago. He had unknowingly strung you along, played with your heart and allowed you to think this whole thing was purely sexual. 
He needed to assure you that this is real, that his feelings for you are real and genuine. “Baby,” he murmured, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he slowly ground his hips against yours, the cool metal of his zipper rubbing against your pulsing core making you see stars behind your closed eyelids. “It’s happening. You and me, us. I love you and I’m so sorry for fucking things up so badly between us.”
You tug at the fabric of his shirt and give him a small smile, brushing your lips against his. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “We have each other now, right?”
“Right,” he confirmed and that was all you needed to hear before your shaking hands were pulling the black fabric off his upper body. 
The sight of his toned chest and abs on full display had you holding back a moan, your lip getting caught between your teeth as your eyes raked over his damn near flawless body. 
Bradley’s hand that was on your face moved so his thumb was slipping past your lips, and he watched with a slack jaw as you sucked it in deeper, your tongue running along the underside of it. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he really didn’t understand how a guy like him ended up with a girl like you, but he was done questioning it as you clearly felt the exact same way about him. You love him, and that’s all he needed to know.
“I think you’re talking about yourself,” you say as you press your lips to the skin of his neck. “You’re so attractive, Bradley, you could get me off with just a look.” Then you were sucking his skin, similar to the way you were sucking his thumb just a few seconds earlier. 
He grunted at the stinging sensation of the hickey you left on his neck, right next to the other one from earlier in the night. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he praised as he lifted your shirt over your head, your bra being pulled from your body quickly after. “Mark me up, show everyone that I belong to you.”
You gasp out in need, pulling his mouth back to yours as your hands frantically push down his jeans and boxer briefs. “Mine,” you whimper against his lips, feeling him hum in confirmation. 
“Yours, baby,” he replied, wrapping your legs around his waist as he teased your soaking entrance. “All yours.”
Then he was pushing into you. Your walls stretched around him and took him in perfectly, making his head fall against your shoulder as he got used to the feeling of you around him again after so long. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out only halfway before burying himself deep within you once again. “God, baby, you feel so good.”
His words release more butterflies all over your body and you clench around him, your greedy walls sucking him in even deeper. “Go slow,” you request in a quiet voice, making him lift his head to meet your eyes. 
Really, he was fine with fucking you into the cushion with enough force to break the springs, and he was also fine with loving your body with his own. “You want me to go slow?” He asked as he pulled out all the way then sunk right back in. “Fuck you nice and slow, like this?”
When he repeated the movement a couple times, you nod quickly and reach your hands up so they’re in his hair. “Yeah,” you breathe out, connecting your lips in a barely-there kiss before saying, “Just like that. I want to feel every inch of you in me.”
Bradley’s hips stuttered at that, breaking the slow pace for a quick second as he placed his forearm against the cushion next to your head. “Fuck, baby, you can’t say things like that and expect me to not fuck you hard into this couch.” 
You laughed quietly, and the sound only spurred him on as he set the slow pace once again. “You need to gain some self control, Bradley,” you purred into his ear and he was once again refraining from absolutely destroying your core. 
“I can’t,” he said as he began to place kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. “Not when I have you wrapped around me, not when you’re taking me so well. Fuck, look at you.”
You give him a teasing smile that fades quickly when he sucks the skin of your throat. After half a year with him, you’ve noticed he seems to have a favorite spot on your neck where he likes to kiss you and leave physical proof of his mouth being there. 
The last time you felt his lips on that spot was when he got you off so good before taking you to the Hard Deck, where you showed off the hickey he left on you. 
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he muttered, mostly to himself as he gazed down at your saliva coated skin. “After everything, after I fucked things up, you’re still mine.”
You hum, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing him closer to you, making him reach even deeper within you. “I always was yours,” you confessed and felt the way his grip tightened on you. 
“But,” he grunted as his hips rocked into yours in a slow rhythm, that sick feeling of jealousy creeping back into him, despite him being very aware of his current position of being buried within you. “You were with Jake last night-”
“But my heart was always with you,” you cut him off and noticed the way he seemed to relax at your words. “My heart was still yours, even after you broke it.” You give him a teasing grin in hopes he wouldn’t take it too hard, but this was Bradley, and he was a pretty emotional guy when it came down to certain things.
While you had given him all the reassurance he needed, he was still feeling so awful for how he treated you, and he wanted to make it up to you. He wanted you to forget about it, forget that dumb side of him who didn’t understand what he was saying. 
“I’m not going to do that ever again,” he promised, jerking his hips a bit roughly but not picking up the pace. “I’m going to treat you so well, be so good to you all the time. You’re going to grow so fucking sick of me, I swear.”
You would’ve laughed, but the sharp snaps of his thrusts had you getting lost in the feeling of him. “‘S all I’ve wanted,” you whimpered when he reached one hand down to rub circles on your still sensitive clit. 
It throbbed against the pad of his middle finger in time with the way your walls pulsed around him. He was driving into you so slowly, you felt every single inch of him as he invaded your warm and inviting core. 
You were so used to the rough, fast paced sex with him in the past, but this was different. Back then, he was just trying to get you off in the ways he knew you liked, and desperately tried to ignore the unspoken words between the two of you.
He tried to fuck away his true feelings for you, hoping that the way his heart would flip at your sweet sounds and how his whole body fit so perfectly against your own was just him getting caught up in the moment. 
He was so glad he was wrong and finally allowed himself to face reality. 
“You’re all I want, too,” he struggled to say as you clenched tightly around him. “I don’t know why I even bothered trying to deny it…fuck, you’re so tight.”
You smirk to yourself at his struggle to keep control of the slow drag of his hips. “Only for you,” you fed into his possessiveness over you, and raked your nails down his back.
“Fuck,” he hissed at the sting, the light scratches on his skin feeling better than he ever thought was possible. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, sweet girl. I won’t fuck this up again.”
You press your lips to his as you feel the coil in your abdomen begin to unravel. “‘M gonna come again,” you informed him against his mouth, fueling him to pick the pace up just slightly as he continued with his sharp thrusts. 
“I want you to so badly,” a deep grunt left his lip as he felt the beginning of your orgasm start to coat him. “Just like that, baby. Come for me, I want to feel it all over me. I want it to be messy.”
Your mouth breaks away from his in order for you to be able to let out a loud moan, followed by a call of his name as your release surged through you. With a gentle hand pressed to his face, your thumb brushing against the bruise he received last night, you came hard around him.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he rasped next to your ear, using your willing core to get himself there, as well. “You look so fucking hot when you come for me.”
Whimpering at the sensitivity, you push him closer with your heel against his back. “Wanna feel you, too,” you mumbled, helplessly taking each thrust he gave as you wouldn’t be fully satisfied until he, too, got off. “I want it in me.”
Bradley’s jaw locked at that, his neck straining as he gave two more quick thrusts before stilling. You were rewarded with a deep, throaty groan as he spilled his seed into you, and you took every single drop.
Your walls, seemingly desperate to feel him breed them once again, gripped him tightly when he lazily started to rock his hips into yours again. The both of you were far too sensitive to go for round two right now, so he was just riding your highs for as long as he could. 
You gently massaged his scalp, his head undoubtedly sore from your relentless tugs on his hair. Bradley was actually excited to deal with the brief headache that would come from it. He was even more excited to see the scratches on his back tomorrow morning, and he was excited to take you to the Hard Deck on Friday night and officially make it known to everyone there that you are his and he is yours. 
Granted, most of the people there already assumed that, but it would still feel great to finally go public with you. 
Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and got into a more comfortable position with you on the couch. He placed a few kisses to the top of your head as you basked in the afterglow, finally feeling truly happy for the first time in over a month. “I love you,” he had somehow managed to win you back, and he would make damn sure he keeps his promise of never breaking your heart again. “Every single part of you.”
You lean up and press a kiss to the mark on his cheek, making a mental note to give Jake a hard time about using his fists instead of walking away. You were still grateful that he was so protective over you, though, so you wouldn’t be too serious about it. “I love you, too, Bradley,” you say back. “I always have.”
-
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kadzu3 · 2 months
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About to do a little announcement with some merch I was working!
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tongue-like-a-razor · 11 months
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 3
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Fluff and banter
WC: 2000+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist
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“Seresin!” you scream at the top of your lungs, slamming the front door with enough force to knock down the welcome sign hanging in the hall. You groan as all the keys that were hanging off its hooks clatter to the floor, together with the sign. But this incident only makes you more enraged. You stomp down the corridor with your shoes still on, bellowing, “Your bucket of bolts is blocking me in, and I need to leave right now!”
You storm into the living room just as Jake starts stretching on the couch; you see one of his arms extend upward over the upholstery.
“Seresin!” you continue to yell, rounding the corner to get a better look at him. “If you don’t move your clunker, I will kill you I swear to” – but you stop short when you witness the scene before you.
Jake Seresin slowly sits up on your couch, shirtless – most likely butt-naked but his bottom half is obscured by the Frozen-themed fleece blanket your brother got you last year for Christmas – and beside him, a sleeping woman is starting to stir. Jake blinks up at you groggily. “You told me to go on a date,” he croaks when he registers the shock on your face.
You narrow your eyes at him irritably. “I said go, not come and date in my living room!”
“I did go,” he says, starting to rise from the couch. “But then I came back.” Halfway into a standing position, Jake seems to realize that, if he continues rising, his friend will end up in the nude, so he sits back down and glances at you sheepishly. “Do you mind passing me that pillow?” he asks, pointing to the tasselled throw pillow on the second couch.
You grimace. “Please don’t tell me you had sex under my blanket,” you say with disgust as you reach for a pillow and then fling it right at Jake’s face.
Jake catches it swiftly, demonstrating impressive reflexes for someone who’s been awake for less than two minutes. “We didn’t,” he says, leaving the blanket over the woman while using the pillow to cover himself as he collects his clothes from the floor.
“Then why are you naked?” you hiss.
Jake straightens his back and gives you a rueful look. “We didn’t have sex under your blanket,” he clarifies. “We just used it after, because we were cold.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I don’t care!” you snap, even though you absolutely do care and seeing Jake with a random naked chick feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to your gut. “Just get dressed and move your damn car, I have to be in class in less than ten minutes!” You glance down at your watch and let out an anxious whine.
Within seconds, Jake has his jeans on and is pulling a t-shirt over his magnificent six-pack. You try your best not to stare and instead find yourself studying the woman who has miraculously been able to sleep through your entire conversation. “Let’s go,” Jake says, walking past you toward the front door.
You release a heavy sigh and start after him. In the foyer, Jake eyes the fallen welcome sign with all the keys still strewn on the floor and then lifts his gaze to look at you pointedly. You make a face at him, and he gives you a small smile before bending down to pick up his car keys.
“It’s a fifteen-minute drive,” he states, slipping on his shoes.
You give him an aggravated look. “You think I don’t know that?”
He opens the door for you, but you shove him through it instead and then jog down to the driveway. When you look back, you see that Jake is still on the porch, his back turned to you as he fiddles with the doorknob.
“Seresin, are you kidding me?” you shout. “If you don’t move this trash heap in the next minute, I will drive through it!”
Jake whistles patronizingly as he skips down the steps toward you. “Simmer down, cupcake,” he says. “I was locking the door.”
You seethe at the nickname as he approaches you with a wide grin. “I will slap you,” you warn.
Jake chuckles, sticking his key into the passenger door to unlock it. “What if I like it?”
You smack him on the shoulder as he opens the door for you. “What are you doing?” you shriek, looking at his dilapidated vehicle in disgust. “Can you please just move this rust bucket so that I can get to class and hand in my paper?”
“Get in!” Jake urges, pressing a hand into your shoulder to force you into the seat. “I’m driving you.”
“I don’t need you to drive me!” you retort, rising back to your feet. “I just need you to get this piece of junk off my driveway” –
“I’m not letting you drive like this,” he says resolutely.
“Like what?” you ask in outrage.
Jake lifts his hands to indicate at your current state and gives you a look. “You’re very stressed out,” he remarks.
You glare at him in disbelief. “Because you are stressing me out!” you scream.
“Be that as it may,” he says calmly, “it’s a fifteen-minute drive, sweet cheeks.” He meets your gaze defiantly and pushes you back down into the seat. “And you need to be there in five.”
You blink up at him crossly but stay put this time.
“Now, you can’t get there in five minutes,” he continues, yanking on the seat belt behind your head and putting into your hand. “But I can.” And, with these words, he slams your door and heads around the front of the car. When he gets in and turns over the engine, he glances at you with a grin. “So, out of curiosity,” he says, “how many nicknames do you have for my car?”
You give him a steely look as he backs out of the driveway. “How many nicknames do you have for me?”
Jake chuckles, releasing the clutch and shifting into second gear, but he doesn’t respond.
You watch him navigate expertly through traffic to get you to your destination, deciding not to press him on the bizarre moment the two of you shared yesterday evening before he finally left you alone. The one that ended with him telling you that he wishes he were your idiot with absolutely no elaboration. Of course, seeing him this morning with a brand-new companion has made you feel like the ultimate idiot in this scenario.
Jake pulls right up to one of the side doors of the building and you unbuckle your seatbelt with lightning speed. “Thanks, Seresin,” you say, climbing out of the car.
“Anytime, peach,” he says, leaning forward to wink up at you before you shut your door.
You roll your eyes. “I’m telling Bradley you had sex on our couch,” you say and then slam the door in his face.
You can see him throw his arms up in protest and reach over to roll down the passenger side window. “Who do you think told me to stay over after insisting I do shots with him?” he yells after you.
You shake your head as you lean into the revolving door of the building. “I’m unimpressed,” you call back.
Jake grins. “So, pretty normal, then?”
Your class ends in two hours and you realize that, since you didn’t drive, you’d have to take the bus home. Except, when you walk out of the lecture hall, you see Jake sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a pillar, waiting for you.
“What are you still doing here?” you ask, approaching him cautiously.
Jake rises to his feet and holds his hand out for your bookbag. When you don’t readily give it to him, he slides it off your shoulder and pulls it over his. “You need a ride home, don’t you?”
You stare at him in disbelief. “I could’ve taken the bus, Jake. You didn’t have to come all the way back.”
“I didn’t,” he says. “I never left.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “You’ve been sitting here for two hours?”
Jake shrugs. “Took a walk around campus.”
“What about your friend whom you left naked in my house?”
Jake’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” he says.
Your jaw drops as you continue to gape at him. “Are you serious?”
Jake cringes. “I’m an idiot.”
“Oh my god, Seresin,” you say, rubbing your forehead in shock. “I have no words.”
Jake nods, then shrugs again. “Maybe she left,” he says hopefully.
You look up at him as the two of you start walking. “It was a memorable night, then,” you comment sarcastically.
Jake chuckles. “Uh, kind of,” he says. “Not that part, though.”
You glance at him questioningly. “Why, what else happened?”
Jake eyes you hesitantly then promptly looks away. “Never mind.”
You stop walking and Jake, who takes another couple of steps before doubling back, blinks at you expectantly. Your eyes meet as the two of stand in the middle of the busy hallway and you feel your heartbeat quicken. You’re wondering, of course, if he’s referring to the incident that you’ve since decided to dismiss as a slip of the tongue.
Jake sighs impatiently. “We should get back,” he says, his eyes still sweeping over your face.
You swallow uncomfortably and give him a tight smile; clearly he isn’t planning on sharing the part of the evening that was memorable for him. You start to walk again, but Jake takes you by the wrist before you reach the door. You glance back at him as he pulls you toward himself. He isn’t looking at you, however. He nods at something behind you, and you turn to see an AV equipment cart barrelling your way, the person pushing the cart effectively hidden behind a stack of projectors. Jake curls his arm around your stomach, pinning your back to his chest as the cart zooms by.
Meanwhile, your knees nearly give out from the heat of his touch. You look down at the arm still wrapped tightly around your abdomen, holding your breath lest you start hyperventilating. “You alright there, darlin’?” he asks casually as his hand slips away from your waist.
“That was a close call,” you manage to say, turning to face him dazedly.
“Good thing I was here,” he says with a smirk.
You give him a stern look, his smugness having brought you out of your temporary trance. “If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t be distracted.”
Jake grins cheekily. “Am I distracting you again?”
You roll your eyes, recognizing that he’s referencing yesterday’s conversation. “You’re insufferable,” you say.
Jake raises his eyebrows. “I might actually prefer it when you insult me rather than my car,” he says as the two of you make your way outside.
“Don’t you worry,” you respond. “I have plenty of insults for the both of you.”
Jake puts his arm around your shoulders when you shiver slightly in your tank top. You try to keep your cool as you walk together toward the parking lot, sinking slightly into his side when the wind picks up as you’re crossing the field. Jake runs his hand up and down your arm to warm you and, in response, a tornado of butterflies, materializing out of nowhere, suddenly swells so violently inside of you that it feels like their collective flying power might lift you right off the ground as you walk.
It’s nice when Jake takes care of you, even though you know he’s only doing it because you’re his best friend’s little sister and he feels some sort of weird obligation to protect you. You wonder if perhaps that’s why you’ve always liked him – because he’s always been there for you, despite being supremely annoying most of the time. His broad shoulders don’t hurt either.
When you reach the car, Jake pulls open your door for you and motions for you to get inside.
“I can get my own door, you know?” you tell him, even though you kind of like it when he does it for you.
Jake gives you an offended look. “Never in my life have I not opened a door for a lady,” he says.
You climb into the vehicle, wondering if you should be pleased to be grouped together with all the ladies in Jake’s life, or discouraged that he’s such a ladies’ man. “Ever the gentleman,” you comment. “Don’t forget the part where you sleep with them and then desert them for hours to fend for themselves at a stranger’s house.”
Jake leans down to peer at you as you buckle your seatbelt. He puts a hand over his chest and frowns playfully. “That hurt,” he says.
You smile at him cheerily. “Suck it up, buttercup.”
Jake grins. “Buttercup,” he says, straightening his back and tapping the hood of the car a couple of times. “I like it.” Then, he shuts your door.
Read Part 4
A/N: Thanks for reading, you guys! These two are so fun to write about, let me know if you want more of them :D Also, if you have prompts for these two in particular, send them my way!
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themissingmango · 2 months
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Stick with me… Tom Kazanksy as an incredibly prestigious film direction and Pete Mitchell as the industries most beloved action star. But when will they ever work together?! 👀
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of-many-aus · 2 months
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Ice Ice, Baby
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
“Ow-“
“Stop moving.”
“But it hurts-“
“Maybe it would stop hurting if you weren’t moving.”
Jake hissed as you pressed the ice pack to his skin once more, craning his neck to try and see what you were doing, eyes narrowing in an almost accusatory fashion, “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you were there.”
You slowly looked up at him, a singular eyebrow raised, “Me being there wouldn’t have changed the fact that the guy took a cheap shot and chucked the ball at your turned back.”
“Nuh-uh.” He argued childishly, “You wouldn’t have let it happen if you had been at the game.”
A roll of your eyes was what he was met with, “It would’ve still happened-“
“You’re my guardian Angel.” He reminded you, as if you would forget when he called you that every other sentence, “When does anything ever go wrong when you’re watching my games?”
“Last game.” You were remembering when poor Bradley was practicing his swing before being up at bat, the man was all hopped up on caffeine, and had gotten too excited and swung the bat so hard and quick it came around and he hit himself right in the face.
“Nothing ever happens to me.” Jake amended, shaking his head slightly at the memory of his sometimes idiotic teammate.
Jake was holding his shirt, partially rolled up as he sat on the kitchen table chair, you in your own chair right next to him, holding an ice pack against the spot on his lower back that already had begun to bloom with a nasty bruise, the spot being too low for him to reach himself.
“Me being there wouldn’t change anything.” You rolled your eyes as you repeated yourself once more.
The man craned his neck once more and threw a playful wink your way, “He would’ve known not to mess with me while my guardian Angel was present.”
This time, you had to tilt your head down and desperately try to bite back a smile, hoping your roommate didn’t notice the way your cheeks warmed slightly.
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