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#top gun fic
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Stars Align: Part 8
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Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Mentions of Abuse, Angry Bradley, Swearing, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Soppy and Emotional Scenes.
-- Part 7 Here --
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18+ Only
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Past:
''Would you hurry up? We're never going to get a good spot.'' Bradley groaned as he stood outside the guest bedroom while you got ready for your beach day.
''Okay okay, I'm ready.'' you said as you shuffled out of the bedroom, an oversized t-shirt draping over you like a blanket.
Bradley scrunched up his nose, ''How are you gonna catch any sun with that thing on?''
''I'll take it off when we get there.'' you said as you grabbed your beach bag and made your way down the stairs.
You opted to walk the short distance to the beach as the weather was perfect. Carole had given you one of her big sunhats and Bradley had fished out his dads old aviators. Together the pair of you looked like an old married couple, squabbling about stupid things jokingly as you walked.
Bradley slung his arm over your shoulder as the sound of the sea and happy vacationers became audible, and he sighed.
''One day when we're older and earning money, you're gonna live with me.''
''Why would I want to live with a gross boy?'' you teased.
''Because I'll be like super ripped and you won't be able to keep your hands off of me.'' Bradley winked, and you shoved him away with a groan.
''Yeah you wish.''
Little did you know everything Bradley had said would come true, eventually.
You found a little spot on the beach and put your things down, scanning the water for somewhere to swim.
Bradley bent over to remove his shoes, and as he stood back up you were in the process of taking the huge t-shirt off.
Bradley gulped loudly, your body was incredible. He wasn't sure when you really became a woman, but there was nothing left of that dorky teenager he'd helped years ago.
Your bikini was figure hugging and complimented every curve. Gabby had taught you a thing or two about dressing for confidence, and boy was she right, you felt much less awkward in your own skin suddenly.
You began to walk towards the water, ''You coming, Bradshaw?''
Bradley closed his mouth and nodded, ''Yeah...yup. Coming.''
As he followed you to the sea, he tried to keep his eyes on the water ahead, instead of on his best friend, who was really beginning to give him confused feelings.
He watched as you stepped into the sea, the waves lapping at your soft skin. You gasped as the cold water splashed your chest and hopped around as you adjusted, and Bradley's jaw hit the ground.
He suddenly couldn't hear or see anything but you, and he felt himself losing control over himself.
''Shit.'' he mumbled as he quickly sat down under the cold water.
''Wow that's brave, the waters freezing.'' you said, as the cold waves splashed up against Bradleys lowered form.
''Mhmm.'' he mumbled through gritted teeth. Sure, the water was cold and it wasn't a pleasant feeling being submerged so quickly, but it was doing wonders subduing something else.
He breathed as his erection went down, and waded deeper out into the water, following you as you finally submerged yourself.
You swam around and floated in the water for a while, enjoying the happy sounds of people splashing around, the smell of the sea and sunscreen filling your nostrils.
''It's so nice to be back.'' you sighed happily, looking back at the shore.
''It's nice to have you back. You have no idea how lame it's been without you.'' Bradley chuckled.
''You're so soppy all of a sudden, who even are you?'' you teased, and splashed Bradley in the face.
He looked at you in shock, ''How dare you?'' and splashed you back.
You laughed and lunged at Bradley, gripping his shoulders and trying to push him under the water, but you'd forgotten how tall he was, and he didn't even budge under your weight, instead your body landed against his, and he steadied you with his hands on your hips, your faces inches apart.
You flushed red and pushed away, swimming backwards as you glared at him playfully.
''Alright, I'm cold. Let's go get a tan.'' you instructed as you swam back to shore, your heart racing at how desperately you wanted to prolong the awkward little moment you'd just had.
''Okay, I'll... I'll be out in a minute.'' Bradley mumbled awkwardly, waiting yet again for the water to subdue his excitement.
_____________________________
Present:
You blinked rapidly, desperately hoping you were having a horrible nightmare and you'd wake up in the bungalow tucked safely under Bradleys strong arm.
Nat moved to your side and gripped your arm to steady you. Bradley had told her briefly about a bad ex and Nat was smart enough to recognise trauma when she saw it.
“Is it him?” She mumbled in your ear.
You nodded, as you forced some air into your lungs.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Jacob chuckled, his dazzling smile almost nonchalant as he edged closer. Alice grinned from behind him.
“Hope you don’t mind, Y/N, but a quick scour of your Facebook showed so many happy pictures of you two. I just figured… well, it might be nice to find him and reunite two old flames.” She smirked, a glint of revenge in her blue eyes.
“When I heard you’d left Fall River, it really hurt me…” Jacob stepped forward and took your hand, cupping it in his other.
You still couldn’t speak, for fear the tears would begin to fall and you’d look weak. You tried to put on what you thought was a brave face, but to everyone around you, you looked terrified, like a ghost of bad times past stood before you.
“I really thought that one day, eventually, you’d forgive our squabbles, and you’d come back to me. I mean, I called, I called so many times. And I came to your door but you were never home, but I just thought our love was stronger than all of that and you’d eventually wake up and see that too.” He sighed, his blue eyes crinkled as he grinned down at you, black hair slicked back perfectly as it always had been. Nothing about Jacob had changed in the last few years.
He was still the same devilishly handsome, darkly dangerous man as before.
You had somehow, inexplicably, been able to avoid him for the past few years despite the small size of the town. Jacob had changed schools after the breakup, but it didn’t stop the ferocious slander from the other teachers who sided with him.
You managed to memorise his very particular pattern. He shopped on certain days, at certain times, in certain stores. On Saturdays he went to the library for most of the day, so you knew it was safe to run your errands, and you mostly stuck to shopping in the evening when you were sure he was at home, sipping wine and tucked into a good book.
You felt immense relief when you left town, finally feeling a sense of freedom you hadn’t had in a long time, but suddenly you felt all of the sneaking around and moving was for nothing, and your body began to shake.
“Please leave.” You managed to squeak out.
“Leave? Do you realise how far I’ve come just to see you? The least you could do is have a drink with me, beautiful.” He cupped your cheek and your body locked up. A single tear slid from your eye as your nostrils filled with his musky cologne, all of the bad memories rushing back.
“Jacob I think you need to go, if you know what’s best for you.” Nat stepped forward.
“You called?” Hangman sang as he walked back into the room, Bradley following and both none the wiser.
“Not you, Jake. Him. It’s Birdy’s ex.” Nat scowled at Jacob. Hangman eyed up the newcomer and moseyed forward with his own face plastered in a cocky grin.
Bradley’s eyes finally landing on you and your shaking form, and man with his hands on you, his eyes went dark and his body tensed up.
“Well well well, I’m sorry ‘Jacob’. I’m afraid there’s only room for one Jake in this building… in this city even, and that’s me. I’ll be happy to escort you out.” Hangman drawled, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and flicking it dramatically to the floor.
Jacob let go of you and focused his scowl on Hangman, walking cooly up to him. “This is none of your business, kid. Maybe just stay out of it if you know what’s good for you.”
Suddenly, from just behind Jacob, Bradley cleared his throat. The two men were about the same height, but when Jacob turned to face him, Bradley seemed at least a head taller than him as he stood tall and angry with his fists clenched at his side and his jaw set.
“You’re Jacob?” Bradley ground out.
“That’s me, buddy. My girls been talking about me, I take it?” Jacob smirked over at you. But just as soon as he looked back, Bradley’s hand was wrapping around Jacob’s neck as he pushed him up against the nearest wall.
Jacob struggled as his neat hair came loose from its slicked back hold, huffing against the wall as his eyes scanned the room.
“I’m only going to tell you once to get the fuck out of here, if I catch you anywhere near her again, it will be me and every naval officer in this room you’ll have to contend with. Got it?” Bradley growled, his face red and a scowl etched deep into his features as his huge hand wrapped tighter around Jacobs neck.
The Hard Deck was now silent as everyone, including Penny, stood with bated breaths. Even Alice looked surprised.
Hangman, Bob, Javy, Mickey and Reuben stood in a half circle around Bradley and Jacob, ready to pounce at any sign of struggle. Nat stood at your side, her arm hooked around your waist just in case, as you stood watching in horror.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll go.” Jacob said, his shit eating grin still unfaltering as Bradley reluctantly let go of him.
Jacob smoothed his hair back and straightened his shirt and jacket, and Bradley followed him through the crowd towards the entrance.
The rest of the Daggers followed, and reluctantly your feet began to move too. You had to be sure he was really leaving.
Once out in the parking lot, a crowd beginning to gather at the door, Bradley stood with his huge arms crossed as he watched Jacob walk towards his rental car.
You breathed a shaky sigh of relief as you thought it was all over, but Jacob suddenly stopped, chuckled to himself, and then turned around.
“Actually, I always knew it would end like this. With me kind enough to give my girl another chance, but naturally the little whore has surrounded herself with more men than she can satisfy.” He spat, and it was enough to release Bradley’s rage.
Bradley surged forward across the gravel, “You fucker!” He growled, and his fist connected with Jacobs face.
Jacob stumbled back in surprise, touching his split lip and smirking at the blood on his fingers as Bradley stood over him.
“Stay the fuck away from her. She’s not your girl.” Bradley spat.
“You don’t know who you’ve fucked with. I’ll see you around.” And with that Jacob turned and climbed into his car.
Alice stood in the crowd and crossed her arms. Her plan had seriously backfired. All she wanted was for Jacob to take you away so she’d have another shot with Bradley, she hadn’t realised the full extent of the situation. Before anyone could pick a bone with her, she slunk off into the crowd and disappeared.
Bradley took a moment to breathe, his hands on his hips as he collected himself.
You stood behind him, hands still clasped over your mouth, shaking like a leaf. Bradley turned around and his angry face softened as soon as his eyes landed on you. Wordlessly he pulled you into him and held you, kissing the top of your head.
“Are you okay, Birdy?” He whispered into your hair.
You nodded, wrapping your arms tightly around him, “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m not... It’s nice to know so many people are fighting my corner, especially with you at the centre. I don’t feel so scared anymore.” You said as you looked up at him.
Bradley bent down and kissed you gently, his swollen hand threading through your hair.
You pulled back slightly, “What about the others? They’re gonna know.”
“I don’t care. I want them to know you’re all mine.” He said before his lips connected with yours again.
“I fucking knew it!” Nat chuckled from the entrance.
“Alright alright, let’s give them a moment.” Bob smiled, and everyone filtered back inside.
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Past:
The summer had passed in a blur, and before you knew it, you were spending your final night in the Bradshaw household before you had to fly back the next morning.
The summer had been filled with perfect memories. Long days down at the beach, evening walks around the neighbourhood reminiscing about the good old days, lots of laughter at dinner times and movies in Bradley’s bed before you went to sleep.
Carole didn’t mind you spending time alone in each others rooms, provided you went to sleep in your own beds at night.
On the last night you finished watching The NeverEnding Story for the tenth time, a movie you and Bradley had loved when you were younger, and you said goodnight to him as you left for your bed.
Bradley sat in his bed for a long time after you left, contemplating how to sneak the letter he’d wrote you into your suitcase without you noticing. He’d been thinking about it all summer, and had decided he needed to tell you how he felt.
He wasn’t the best at using his words, so felt it better to write everything down, and hoped you’d be long gone by the time you read it, so that he wouldn’t implode into himself if you read it in front of him.
Once he was sure you must have fallen asleep, Bradley crawled out of bed and grabbed the letter from his desk drawer. His hands shook as he held it in his hands. Letting out a shaky breath, he snuck out of his room and padded quietly down the dark hallway.
He carefully opened your bedroom door, and he could hear your steady breathing. You were asleep. He snuck inside and crept towards your suitcase. He bent down and slowly unzipped the front pouch.
“Bradley?” Your soft voice hummed.
Bradley shot up and threw the letter on the floor, kicking it under the chest of drawers.
“Hey Birdy.” He whispered.
“What are you doing in here?”
He was quiet for a moment, but then he walked over to the bed and climbed in next to you.
“I just wanted sleep next to you one last time.” He whispered.
“Won’t your mom be mad?” You whispered back, turning on your side to face him, close enough to feel his breath on your face.
“She doesn’t need to know.” His heart was thudding against his chest.
“Okay, I’m glad you’re here. I always sleep better when you’re around.” You grinned.
You closed your eyes as Bradley stroked a strand of hair off of your face. You looked so beautiful, it would be so easy just to kiss you. But Bradley was terrified you’d reject him and he’d ruin the entire summer by making one wrong move.
Little did he know you were desperate to tangle your fingers in his hair and have your way with him too.
“Birdy?” Bradley’s hoarse voice mumbled.
“Hmmm?”
“I… uhm…” he trailed off, unsure of how to put what he wanted to say into actual words.
“What is it?” You hummed, your hand gently moving to lay flat against his chest. You could feel his heart thudding and you wiggled closer.
Bradley’s breathing caught in his throat, and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the fear of losing you.
“Nothing.”
“Okay.” You sighed, slowly turning over so your back faced him. You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. You really thought he felt the same for a moment there, but you must have misread the room.
Bradley silently cursed himself. He knew the moment had passed to say anything, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t just enjoy having you there before you left again.
Edging closer, Bradley slipped a hand onto the dip of your waist, and lay his head on your pillow so he could rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Goodnight, Birdy.”
“Goodnight, Roo.”
—————————————
-- Final Part Here --
Note: I dunno about y'all, but this is who I imagine Jacob as:
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kyber-crystal · 4 months
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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promisingyounglady · 25 days
Text
four eyes. | BF x Reader
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PAIRINGS: Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS: asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely.
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
WARNINGS: ahem, SMUT, established relationship, profanity, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, facial, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, begging, slightly sub!reader, praise, aftercare and such sweet affection from bobby, not proofread and mdni!!, reader is a minx, brief mention of term ‘slut’, size kink, awkward sweetheart w a big dick!bob,
A/N: this is the most filthiest shit I’ve ever written and if you like this ur crazy… *reblogs, comments and likes the post*
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“What are you up to?” he drawls, watching carefully as you crawl over his naked midriff and through the sea of bedsheets. Post-sex endorphins were through the roof right now for Bob, a wave of happy tiredness sweeping over the pilot.
You huff, hand outstretched as you reach for Bob's glasses perched on the bedside table.
“I wanna try these on” you say to him, balancing yourself as you try to grab the frames. Bob chuckles, a hand coming to rub your ass lovingly.
You bit your lip to fight the feeling of a grin spreading on your face, the feeling of Bob's soft hands tickling you as you playfully pushed him away, all the while he simply beams at you.
The hand supporting yourself on his hard chest slips, causing you to collapse on top of your boyfriend, your naked breasts brushing over his cock and sending a shiver down his spine.
A firm hand comes to still yourself. “Careful” he says softly, hands warm.
Bob looks over, grabbing the glasses just as you were about to pick them up, and holding them out of your reach. You protest, trying to get ahold of the frames you loved so much. Bob puts them on, allowing himself to properly see his girl.
“You don’t wanna wear these, they don’t look good on anyone. Including me.” he mumbles, adjusting you on top of him.
But you're quick to swipe them off his face, ignoring Bob's laughs when you put the glasses on yourself and straddle his hips. “I like them, they’re cute,” you tell him.
“Well what d’ya know?” Bob utters softly to himself when he sees you, gazing up at his girl wearing the steel rimmed aviators and looking absolutely breathtaking.
“Hi there, four eyes” he chuckles, finding it odd saying a phrase he’s been nicknamed all his childhood. Hell, even Seresin has no problem calling him that to this day.
Bob smiles, strong but soft hands coming to rest on your hips as you sat dangerously close to where his happy trail leads to. Your brows furrowed as you viewed the world through his lenses.
“Jesus, Bob, you really are blind!” You uttered, looking down at the blurry man seated against the bedpost.
Bob’s become busy at the moment, pressing pecks to your hardended nipples. He simply nods, pretending he’s listening.
“You should go to the eye doctor, honey”
Bob peaks through, giving you a look. “That’s where I got them”
“Hm.”
The room is silent, a soft glow of the afternoon sunlight peeking through the white shutters. You feel the corners of Bob’s lips curling into a smile against your skin, a silent worship to your body.
“You’re so soft.” he murmurs.
“Honey,” you call to your boyfriend.
“Hm?” Bob replies absentmindedly, still brushing his face along your chest, hugging you closer.
You tug on his brown locks, pulling his head from your body and looking down at him.
“I wanna try something.” you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes mixed with a bottle of excitement. You quickly press a kiss to his lips.
Bob watches as you pull from his grasp, lips forming a small frown from the loss of contact as you shuffled down the bed so you were now kneeling on the floor by the edge.
Bob looks over at you quizzically, wondering what you were up to before you beckon towards him, ushering him to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Come sit, Robert” you directed, calling him by his birth name to get his attention.
His soft cock limps near his thighs as he adjusts himself, sitting before you in all his naked glory, hair tousled by your hands and a pink blush ghosting his cheeks. His hand comes up to play with your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. You look up in seriousness and confess.
“I want you to cum on these glasses”
Bob stops all motion, hand still tucked behind your ear. The room falls silent.
“What?”
You ignore the bafflement of your crimson cheeked boyfriend, bending down to lick a long stripe up his veiny shaft. A loud moan and harsh tug against your scalp brings you to take him further, almost triggering your gag reflexes. It all happens so fast. Bob mutters incoherently from the sudden gesture, both of you going slightly insane when your nose presses against his pubic bone as tears form near your eyes.
“Baby, hold on a moment, Jesus fuck!”
You’re worried you’re going to make a mess on the floor from the way your slick almost drips from your pussy.
You’ve been thinking of this fantasy for a while if you were to be honest. Bob pulls you back, gasping for air as a proud feeling settles in your chest. It’s not everyday you hear Bob cuss like that.
He’s panting hard, watching as a bit of saliva is smeared on your lips, eyes glossy. Bob sighs in exasperation as you decide to stroke his cock with your hands.
“You gotta let me speak-“
“Please, Bobby” you beg, pressing kisses to the pink tip and relishing in the way you feel him harden in your hand. A loud groan escapes Bob's throat, feeling sensitive despite having had sex the whole afternoon with you.
“I want you to cum while I have your glasses on” you told him, kitten licks getting the best of your boyfriend. “Like in those pornos” you mumble softly, your shy giggles driving Bob insane.
“Nobody says pornos anymore” he mumbles telling you, swallowing hard when you tug on his cock tighter for not responding.
Bob clears his throat. “You, um, want me to give you a facial?” He asks softly, holding onto your hand that's stroking his cock.
You nod eagerly.
“A-Are you sure?” He says, worried that taking him like this is gonna wear you out. In all honesty, the boy can’t help but grow hard at the thought of cumming all over your innocent face, big eyes covered by his glasses milked by his seed.
You nod, excitement and horniness flowing through your body.
“Please, honey, I want you to see me painted” you sighed, thumb brushing over the thick tip, smearing precum over the slit.
Bob thinks he’s gonna cum just from this angle, but he needs you so badly he tries to regain composure. He bends down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips and letting your face be held in his soft touch. “Let me know if it's too much baby” he addresses in concern, the tears on your cheeks worrying him.
You sniffle, nodding your head to assure him. “Want you so bad, Bobby, let me suck you”
Your last few words are incoherent from the way you let Bob’s big cock stuff your throat, making you gag but desperately hold on. Bob lets go, both hands coming to balance himself on the edge, one gripping the bed sheets.
The sensation is fucking marvellous. You feel so full, loving the way the stretch of your mouth and untouched ache of your pussy turn you cockdrunk on Bob Floyd’s dick.
You look up, desperate to see how he's taking you, wanting to see the expression of him getting the daylights sucked out of him.
Lieutenant Bob ruts his hips pathetically, trying so hard not to make a mess of your mouth and hurt you. His head is pulled back, groans falling from his soft lips as he praises you so good.
“That’s it baby, doing so well for me” he sighs, now two large hands coming to push you a little further, a groan falling from his lips as you take him fully now.
“God, I love you!” he cries out loud, an instinctive response coming from your boyfriend as he caresses your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. You smile, aviator lenses reflecting the light as your lips are wrapped securely around his dick.
”So pretty, such a pretty girl” he says under his breath, admiring the way your tits bounce along with every stroke on his cock. You gasp, pulling away as you let your fist do the rest.
“I love you too, Bobby” you gasped, looking up to find Bob staring at you intensely, with such a fierce gaze of love, sensuality, and pure awe.
”H-How,” he begins, starting to feel a familiar feeling settle inside him. “How did I get so lucky with you?” He admits, wanting nothing more but to see his cum painting his glasses you’re wearing. He thinks he might just let you have them. Being able to see is overrated anyways.
“I think I’m gonna cum, baby” he lets out, watching as your eyes get eager, adjusting your sore knees so you can get the perfect angle.
“Please baby, give it to me” you begged, pussy so sensitive you have to make sure you hold yourself up enough so the cold wooden floors don’t brush against your folds.
Watching you rub his dick like that, mouth open and face ready is an image Bob will have ingrained in his mind forever, a hot spurt of milky liquid shooting onto your lips as Bob finally gives you what you wanted.
Incoherent mumbles fill the sweaty bedroom, letting one hand cup his balls as the other makes sure to smear the warm fluid all over your lips, glasses starting to get foggy.
“Fucking hell” Bob cries out, spilling your name from his lips like a sacred mantra.
You hum, a wave of both happiness and satisfaction washing over you as you sit in front of Bob’s glory.
You let the man come down from his high, tasting salt and your boyfriend in your mouth. Before you can even clean yourself up, Bob is ripping off the dirtied glasses framing your face, and grabbing you towards him for a passionate kiss. The action makes you dizzy, your red, sore knees almost buckling under.
It’s only a while after when he pulls away, grabbing for a box of tissues near the nightstand and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry for the mess” he replies shyly, the image of this tall, naked, handsome, and yet totally awkward giant taking care of you making it all worthwhile.
“It’s okay” you reply, voice hoarse. You couldn’t help but feel happy, even if you didn’t cum (Bob would see to it later of course).
You feel him use the tissues to wipe your chin, face, and tits, or really, what was leftover after you sucked it all up like a slut.
“You’re crazy sometimes, you know that?” Bob mumbles, shaking his head as he smiles at you, his soft touch so rewarding.
You laugh, latching your arms around his neck and letting him hoist you up so easily. His semi-hard cock limps against your stomach, both of you standing up and lips pressing together in another soft kiss.
”Thank you for the most mind blowing head of my life.” He jokes.
”Thanks for the facial” you gleam, sucking your fingers with a pop that makes Bob weak, falling back down on the mattress and taking you with him so you’re straddling him again.
Bob reaches for the glasses, getting a tissue so he could wipe them before an idea pops in your head and you stop him.
You put on the glasses again. He looks up.
“Bobby, where’s the Polaroid camera?”
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Text
Three Generations - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Rooster is a Dad; Female Reader with No Name or Physical Description, No Y/N, Third Person POV; OC Bradshaw Kid without Physical Description (minus a reference to his smile being similar to Rooster's)
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission
Master List
Sequel: A Day with Duckie
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Maverick remembered the text that he received from Ice about four years prior to the mission.
The kid’s married.
Three little words that felt like bullets straight to Maverick’s heart. Bradley was married. Married. Maverick shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Bradley was more than old enough for marriage. Especially for a naval officer. But it still hurt, it still stung that he wasn’t there to see it.
Ice gave him Rooster’s wife’s name but he couldn’t find many photos of the two of them together. Rooster’s wife’s profiles were all set to private, but Maverick did find some photos posted by one of the bridesmaids. He printed them out and hung them up in his hangar, next to his old photos of Rooster. Even if he cried like a baby while he did it.
It wasn’t until after the mission, when they were sitting alone in their hospital room together, that Maverick had a chance to ask Rooster about his wife.
“You got married?” Maverick asked Rooster quietly.
Maverick gestured to his own left ring finger, which made Rooster fiddle with his gold band. Staring down at his wedding ring for a moment, Rooster tried to figure out how to respond properly to Maverick’s question. Nodding slowly, Rooster turned back to Maverick.
“Yeah, I did,” Rooster answered quietly.
“Congratulations,” Maverick replied softly.
“Thank you,” Rooster returned, fiddling with his ring again.
“How did you meet?”
“She was in the Navy. She worked in intelligence, though. We met through mutual friends and I asked her out. We went on a date to a karaoke bar and never looked back,” Rooster explained, smiling at the memories. “I asked her to marry me about two years after that.”
“And you’re happy?”
“Extremely,” Rooster replied without missing a beat. “Her and Kai, they’re my whole life.”
“Kai?” Maverick asked curiously.
Rooster, seemingly realizing his slip, shrunk a bit into himself. He looked nervous. Incredibly nervous. Fiddling with his wedding band again, Rooster slowly turned back to Maverick.
“Kai is my son.”
“You’re a dad?” Maverick asked, unable to stop the emotion from dripping into his tone.
Not only had Maverick missed Rooster’s wedding, but he also missed the birth of Rooster’s child, and all of the little milestones along the way. And that ache in his chest quietly intensified, though Maverick tried to not let it show.
“Yeah, I am.”
Rooster reached for his phone, pulled up a photo, and passed his phone over to Maverick. He grabbed Rooster’s phone and stared down at the photo. And Maverick would have been lying if he said that he didn’t get a little choked up at the sight of it.
Rooster and a woman that Maverick knew was Rooster’s wife were standing together with a little baby boy sandwiched between them. A little boy that had his father’s smile—albeit one with a few missing teeth—and a matching Hawaiian shirt. Rooster’s wife smiled widely at the camera with her cheek smushed against the top of her son’s head.
And Rooster looked happier in that photo than Maverick had seen him since before Carole passed, even though Rooster wasn’t looking in the direction of the camera. No, Rooster was far too busy smiling at his little family.
“Are they coming to see you?” Maverick asked, handing the phone back to Rooster.
“Yeah, uh, their flight lands tomorrow morning. Phoenix said that she would pick them up from the airport and bring them here,” Rooster explained, placing his phone aside. Rooster paused before turning back to Maverick. “And . . . can you . . . can you not mention the part about me defying a direct order and everything that happened afterwards?”
“I won’t,” Maverick promised, earning a thankful nod from Rooster. “But, at some point, Brad, I think that you should be honest with her about it. As much as you can, given the sensitive information, anyways. Not that I’m in any position to give anyone marriage advice but . . . you should be honest with your wife.”
“I will,” Rooster returned quietly. “It’s just that she gets really stressed when I’m in the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“Are you scared about her reaction?”
“A little bit,” Rooster admitted honestly.
Maverick chuckled, reminiscing about how Goose always looked when he was worried about telling Carole about whatever shenanigans they got into back in the day.
“I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”
~~~~~
Maverick and Rooster were discharged from the hospital the next day.
Phoenix, along with Rooster’s wife and Kai, were supposed to pick them up. Rooster spotted Phoenix’s car and walked after it. The passenger door flew open and Rooster’s wife. She walked around the car to see that Phoenix was helping Kai out of the back seat.
Kai slid out of Phoenix’s car and immediately perked up when he spotted his dad quickly making his way over. But knowing her son, Rooster’s wife snatched him by the back of his shirt before he could run out into the parking lot.
“You have to hold Mommy’s hand when you’re in the parking lot,” she reminded her son.
She looked up and down the road before leading Kai across it. But once Kai safely stepped up onto the sidewalk, she released his hand and let Kai run to Rooster.
“Daddy!” Kai yelled happily, running into Rooster’s waiting arms.
Bradley bent down and scooped Kai up. Holding Kai to his chest, Rooster pressed a kiss to Kai’s hair as he rocked his son back and forth in his arms. Almost like Rooster was trying to soothe himself with his son’s presence.
“I missed you so much, Kai.”
Rooster pressed another kiss to Kai’s head before turning to his wife. She looked like she was trying to hold it together and just barely managing it. But when she caught Rooster’s gaze, she let some more emotion show. Wordlessly, Rooster held out an arm to her and she immediately ran into his embrace, officially reuniting the family of three.
“I’m alright,” Rooster assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m okay.”
As Rooster reassured his wife and son that he was fine, Maverick walked around them to stand beside Phoenix. After his wife and Kai were soothed, Rooster turned to introduce them to Maverick.
“Guys, this is Maverick. Mav, this is my wife,” Rooster stated, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist.
“The man who pulled your papers?” Rooster’s wife asked sharply. Maverick winced at her tone.
“We got past that,” Rooster assured his wife, which caused her to immediately relax.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you then,” she replied with a much warmer tone. Rooster’s wife walked over to give Maverick a proper hug that Maverick was happy to return. “And to put a face to the name after all the stories.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Maverick replied, releasing Rooster’s wife.
“And this is my son, Kai,” Rooster added, bouncing his son lightly on his arm. Smiling at his son with complete and utter adoration, Rooster nudged him in the side. “Kai, this is Maverick.”
“Hi,” Maverick greeted Kai softly.
“Hi,” Kai returned shyly, resting his head on Rooster’s shoulder.
“Mav’s a pilot like me,” Rooster explained to his son, causing Kai to pick his head up again. “And he used to fly around with your Grandpa Goose.”
“Really?” Kai asked his dad, earning a nod from Rooster.
Kai stared over at Maverick with newfound curiosity and Maverick tried to not choke up at the clear similarities between Kai and Rooster. Kai wasn’t so much his dad’s twin, but he had that same expression and look in his eye that Maverick saw all the time on a younger Bradley. Offering a small encouraging smile to Kai, Maverick decided to approach.
“Yeah, your Grandpa Goose used to sit in my back seat,” Maverick replied, nodding along. “And he was the best at what he did.” Trying to not burst out into tears at the fact that he was talking about Goose while Baby Goose was holding Grandbaby Goose, Maverick managed a small smile. “Your grandpa’s callsign was Goose. Your dad’s is Rooster. What bird do you want as your callsign, Kai?”
“Mommy calls me ‘Duckie’,” Kai informed Maverick, ending his sentence with a giggle.
“Yes, because he’s impossible to pull out of the water once he’s in,” Rooster explained, shaking his head playfully at his son. “And he pretends that he can’t hear us.”
“No,” Kai giggled, clearly lying.
“He’s also a great liar,” Rooster quipped, tickling Kai’s stomach.
Kai squealed and pushed his dad’s hand away, but he couldn’t stop giggling. And Maverick tried to not burst out into tears again. Baby Goose had a baby. The little baby that he used to babysit and take for extra ice cream had a little baby of his own now.
God, Maverick was getting old.
~~~~~
After spending the day with the rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick and the Bradshaw family of three retired to Maverick’s quaint residence in town. Rooster grew up in the house after Carole’s death and his old bedroom was perfectly preserved from that time.
It was only about a half an hour before Kai’s bedtime when Rooster approached Maverick in the kitchen.
“Can you watch Kai for a second?”
“Yeah, of course,” Maverick agreed, nodding along immediately. “But why? Where are you going?”
“I just thought that I should tell her,” Rooster explained, keeping his voice low. “There were too many close calls as it was with the rest of the Dagger Squad, so I need to tell her. About the mission and . . . my little stunt.”
“The couch is very comfortable,” Maverick joked, earning a tired sigh from Rooster. “You’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Rooster replied, straightening up.
Rooster thanked Maverick before the two rejoined Kai and Rooster’s wife out in the living room. Rooster managed to find an old Connect 4 game in the cabinet and his wife tried to teach Kai how to play. They were sitting around the coffee table with Kai studying the layout closely.
“Can I play with you, Kai?” Maverick asked, moving to sit down beside Kai.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, not taking his eye off of the board.
Maverick saw Rooster lean down to whisper something in his wife’s ear before she nodded. Turning to Kai, Rooster’s wife leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Kai to look up.
“Behave for Maverick, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Rooster and his wife got up and headed out of the room to talk. Kai turned to Maverick once his parents were out of sight.
“Why did they leave?”
“They just needed to talk about some things. Adult things. Nothing fun,” Maverick stated, causing Kai to nod with a slight pout. Maverick moved to take the seat that Rooster’s wife was sitting in and picked up a yellow piece. “Did you take a plane to get over here, Kai?”
“Yeah,” Kai stated, smiling up at Maverick.
“Do you like flying?”
“Yeah.”
“Has your dad ever taken you flying before?” Kai shook his head dramatically, causing Maverick to nod along. “You just fly with your mom then?”
“Yeah. Daddy gets scared,” Kai informed Maverick, leaning on the coffee table.
“Well, it’s a little scary when you’re a pilot and someone else is flying the plane,” Maverick replied, very well acquainted with the control freak tendencies that popped up when a naval aviator flew commercial. “And your daddy just wants to make sure that you and everyone else is safe.”
“Mommy tells him to relax,” Kai replied, emphasizing the word with a wave of his hand.
Kai must have seen his mom do that exact routine at least a thousand times because he seemed to know the part by heart. He had the expression, the wave of his hand, and the tone down perfectly. Maverick couldn’t help but laugh.
“Does he listen to her?” Maverick quipped, failing at hiding his amusement.
“Sometimes,” Kai answered with a giggle.
“Like you?”
“Yeah.”
Maverick was about to ask Kai another question when Rooster’s wife’s voice echoed around the house. The door to Rooster’s old bedroom did little to muffle the shock and sheer incredulousness of Rooster’s wife’s question.
“You did what!?”
“Have you ever seen the moon, Kai?” Maverick asked the toddler, quickly getting up to his feet.
“Yeah,” Kai replied as Maverick scooped him up into his arms.
“Well, looking again wouldn’t hurt,” Maverick reasoned, setting Kai on his hip. “And maybe we’ll even see a few stars too.”
“Oh-kay,” Kai agreed with a sigh, laying his head on Maverick’s shoulder.
“And where was your brain during all of this!?” Rooster’s wife snapped loudly.
“Yeah, let’s go look at the stars, Kai,” Maverick stated quickly, hurrying out the back door.
“Was that Mommy?” Kai asked, staring back at the house.
“No, I don’t think it was her.”
Sequel: A Day with Duckie
3K notes · View notes
leascorner · 3 months
Text
b.b. | Emergency contact
Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
Pairing:  Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food
Word Count: 4.7k
Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!
Masterlist
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Maverick saw her first.
Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…
Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.
Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.
“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”
Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”
He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.
She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.
“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.
Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.
“He can stay, he is family.”
The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.
“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.
“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”
After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.
“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.
This was just a tragic story.
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Bradley saw her first.
He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.
Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...
He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.
He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.
Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.
He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.
Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.
“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.
“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.
Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.
“How is your knee?”
“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”
“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.
“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
Some more silence.
Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.
“I very am sorry.”
Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.
Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.
“I know.”
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It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.
He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.
While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.
“Y/N?”
Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.
“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”
As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.
“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.
“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”
She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”
“It’s okay.”
Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.
“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…
If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.
“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”
Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.
“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.
And even after all those years, she still trusted him.
“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.
When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.
“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”
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“Bradley!”
Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.
Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.
And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.
“Hey buddy!”
Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.
On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”
Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.
After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.
Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.
Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.
“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”
Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.
Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.
Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.
“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.
“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”
For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.
“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”
“I am trying my best.”
“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”
Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.
“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.
“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:
“Thanks!”
While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.
And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.
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“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”
“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.
Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.
“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.
He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Bradley?”
Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.
His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.
“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.
He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.
Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.
“I’ve been cleared.”
Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”
Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.
“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”
If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.
If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.
All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.
“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.
He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.
Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”
Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.
She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.
Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.
They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.
Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.
“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”
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purelyfiction · 1 month
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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader
Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.
Word Count: 5,334 words
Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd
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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring. 
The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them. 
Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this. 
Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.
“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.   
“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you. 
Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.
"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."
But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh. 
"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me. 
“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair. 
“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”
God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed. 
The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point. 
“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.
“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.” 
“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.
“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony. 
It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah. 
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Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd. 
Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost. 
“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out. 
“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor. 
“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?” 
“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.
“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours. 
“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you. 
“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring. 
You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good. 
“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”
Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’? 
“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs. 
“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction. 
“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps. 
“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.” 
“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”
“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man. 
“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath. 
“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”
“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”
Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out. 
“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”
“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.” 
Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him. 
The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him. 
“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine. 
“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again. 
“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.” 
Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you. 
“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you. 
You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.
“What’s there to lose?”
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You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds. 
Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments. 
Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨
RunTao: phony photos
Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!
H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right
It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them. 
The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting. 
Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗
Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies. 
You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-
The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink. 
You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”
“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it. 
“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar. 
“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful. 
“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.
“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff. 
“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead 
“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand. 
You’re here for Jake anyways. 
“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs. 
“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”  
True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile. 
“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up. 
“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you. 
“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin. 
“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back. 
“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?” 
“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you. 
“You were practically eye-fucking him.” 
“Was not.” 
“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time. 
“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.” 
Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down. 
“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.” 
The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink. 
“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this. 
You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less. 
It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums. 
Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones. 
Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater. 
With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you. 
“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins. 
“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet. 
It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character. 
How many women had actually made it past the outside?
The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket. 
“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head. 
“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building. 
The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night. 
“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically. 
“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head. 
“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.” 
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Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand. 
“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin. 
“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing. 
“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up. 
“I am not eating your taco!”
“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction.  One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught. 
“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos. 
“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.” 
With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal. 
The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car. 
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Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod. 
The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway. 
It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks. 
“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. 
“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.
A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation. 
“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you. 
“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind. 
“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs. 
“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things. 
“Jake, I’m-”
“You’re staying with me.”
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warnersister · 2 months
Text
Stay in your lane
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader
Inspired by the song ‘Stay In Your Lane’ by Bronson Diamond and Greta Stanley
Summary: Jake finally realises it’s time to settle down when this mission could become fatal, especially when he sets eyes on the woman he knows is destined to be his future wife - but with his ‘Hangman womaniser’ reputation floating around Top Gun, it won’t be that easy.
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Jake had seen you at the bar for a few weekends running now. And each weekend he had drunk enough Dutch courage yet never actually managed to speak to you. He’d first seen you the evening he was first reinstated at Top Gun for the uranium-plant ‘suicide mission’ and with this evening being the penultimate one before Maverick would construct his final flight crew; he’d decided now was a better time than ever. He’d die a happy man knowing he’d at least taken the jump with you.
He was enamoured; whipped the moment he’d first laid eyes on you. The moment all his ‘fuck-boy’ antics and aspirations melted before him and some homeliness grew. He’d always been teased for his charming bed-side manner: before sneaking out the morning after, not forgetting to delete his number from the poor girl’s phone then dashing out the door with another mark to his name and a victorious smirk on his lips.
But recently he’d been sick of the reputation he’d grown to be so proud of, almost embarrassed by his own name and face - he wasn’t blind to the two strands of grey hair that appeared behind his left ear, he wasn’t getting any younger. He didn’t want to be the unmarried sailor who had too much fun as a bachelor in his earlier years and never settled down. Jake didn’t like the idea of dying alone.
Especially not now this mission was looming ever closer.
You’d walked into the bar just before Rooster began serenading the piano, when Hangman was teasing the ‘old timer’, soon to be instructor and throwing him out of the bar for being unable to pay for the tab the aviators and civilians had accumulated for him as a consequence of his phone being on the table top. Jake had turned and winked at you when he’d ordered another beer on Maverick, one for you too for which you just rolled your eyes, unimpressed. Needless the say for once that actually bruised Hangman’s indestructible ego. Normally he wouldn’t have batted an eye when being rejected by a girl at a bar; simply moving onto his next endeavour to take some gullible girl home by the end of the night.
But you didn’t seem like that kind of girl: you seemed like a lady - a woman. And your rejection wounded him more than any bullet or stab any could.
And now you were here for the third weekend running and he was ready to finally try ask you out, especially before he got too drunk too - already racking up his eighth beer and fifth whiskey, even chancing some of the sailor’s rum sitting in the glass cabinet with all the expensive liquor. “Man, just go.” Javy said, elbowing Hangman deep enough to wind him slightly. “What if she rejects me?” Javy laughed. “Jake ‘womaniser’ Seresin is worried about being rejected?” But his chortle died down when he saw the serious conflicting expression on his fellow aviator’s face. Javy thought for a moment before walking over to Rooster and concocting a plan with him. “Hangman won’t talk to lady?” The sunglasses-clad man laughed. “Funny.” Javy shook his head. “No man I’m serious. Look at him.” They both looked across the bar to the man looking helplessly at the newly familiar girl chatting with Penny with a comfortable grin on her face.
“Damn if Hangman doesn’t want her I’ll have her.” Rooster commented, pulling his sunglasses to the end of his nose to look at you properly and whistling lowly. Javy slapped his chest, having a lightbulb moment “I’ve got it. You go and tell him that.” Rooster raised a brow waiting for him to elaborate. “Go over there, tell him you’re gonna go chat her up and watch how fast he moves.” Rooster smirked, loving the fact he was being offered the opportunity to wind up Hangman. “Next rounds on you.” He told Javy, hitting him on the back as he strutted over to the lovesick man by the pool table.
Rooster mirrored his actions from a few moments prior, eyeing you like a tall glass of water after days stranded in the heat-infested desert. He whistled, gaining Hangman’s attention, forcing him to drag his attention away from you. “Who’s the honey at the bar? She is mighty fine.” Rooster commented, biting his lip slightly. “Found my mission for tonight, wish me lucky.” He patted Hangman’s shoulder, who was getting progressively more aggravated by Rooster’s comments - not even noticing how tight his grip was on his beer before it was slammed on the table and he raced past Rooster. “Back off, porn-tash.” He grumbled and the tanned man smirked, his job was done.
Jake marched straight over to you and leant against the bar beside you, ordering another beer off of Penny and requesting she get you another of whatever you were drinking, turning to smirk at you gently. You looked at him, unimpressed but with a small smile on your lips. “Evening darlin’” Jake nodded at you, trying to make his charms work one last time. “Evening.” You replied, thanking Penny for your new drink, and him too. “Thanks for the drink, but I can pay for myself.” You say, not trusting the khaki uniforms regardless of what the face wearing them told you.
“And I don’t doubt that, allow me to apologise for treating the gorgeous lady at the bar.” He says jokingly, taking a seat beside you. “What’s your name darlin’” you laugh slightly and tell him. “And what’s yours?” You retort. “Jake. But my coworkers call me Hangman.” He told you, trying to woo you with his Naval charm. “Hangman? What, did you lose a game? Not enough consonants?” He laughed at you. Normally now he’d made a joke about him being ‘hung’ in more ways than one but he stopped himself, wanting to impress you/ not seduce you.
He continued to attempt make small talk with you throughout the evening, you hardly entertaining his antics. “Look, Hangman” you say straight, after your third drink, compliment of him of course. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if your goal is to get me in your bed by the end of the night, you’ve got another think coming. You have a reputation around this base and I don’t intend on becoming another one of your one-nighters.” You throw back the rest of your drink. “So thank you for the drinks, but this ends here.” You say, about to stand up before a rough yet gentle touch reached out to keep you sat, prompting a frustrating and challenging look in return.
“I’ve been shot and I’ve been stabbed but I’ve never been so madly in love as I am with you.” He said all of a sudden, causing you to sit right back down in your seat; shock overcoming you. “Excuse me?” You say, almost thinking you hadn’t heard this infamous aviator you’d only known for the past two hours admitting his adoration for you. “Look I that my reputation proceeds me, but seeing you for the first time three weeks ago made me realise somethin’, darlin” he licked his lips in nerves, gathering his thoughts: prepared to admit to you. You cocked your head to one side, almost unable to speak “I know we just met, but if I had to bet I´d say you feel the same way too”
“Cause I’ve realised that when I first looked at you, in that gorgeous dress with that bright smile, self-sufficient and head strong I knew I’d have to drop my ridiculous play-boy persona sometime soon. Especially if I wanna settle down with a mighty-fine gal such as yourself.” He admits, looking down nervously and swallowing - adam’s apple bobbing as you question his intentions and think that he may be more gentle than his reputation had told you.
Suddenly The Righteous Brothers’ infamous song amongst Miramar pilots began playing; You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ and Hangman smirks and an idea develops within his mind. He stands and offers a hand to you “dance with me, please?” You give a small smile, allowing your heart to lead instead of your preemptive mind familiar with his kind and laced your hand in his, standing and smoothing your dress which he found incredible endearing.
He began swaying back and forth, talking so loud you could barely hear the band. As he sung along to the sound, keeping his hands respectively on your hips and eyes never straying away from your own. When the song had finished he necked the rest of his beer, drinkin´so fast you were surprised he could even stand. Even trying to be endearing; making a fool of himself dancing just to hear you laugh, dancin´ like a crab running over the stinkin´ hot sand.
Eventually you both moved to the cracked-open door adjacent to the beach, sitting on the deck as he eyed the hand closest to him, but you were still hesitant - the infamous ‘Hangman’ reputation weighing heavy in your mind. His pinky inching towards your own and you chuckle gently, shaking your head “and I was hopin’-” you cut him off “you were dreamin´ if you thought you were gonna be holdin´ my hand” you inform him.
“Later Hangman!” You both hear and turn to see the rest of the dagger squad making their way out of the bar, Nat winking at you unbeknownst to Jake and you requite her gesture. “Later!” He waves them off. He stands and struts to the bar, taking you with him to jot his details on a napkin “here is my number, call me when you get home” he slides it to you, to which you reverse his action, pushing it back to him “that number ain’t no good to me, ´cus I don’t own a telephone” you shrug, but he knew it was in your jacket pocket.
“Well then,” he scribbles again “here is my address, write to me if you could” he suggests and you shrug “well, I never finished school, my writin´ just ain’t no good” he grits his jaw slightly “the way you carry yourself tells me otherwise, ma’am.” he says and you smirk, leaning closer to whisper in his ear “that’s doctor to you, Jake.” He shivers at the way you say the name he’s been used to hearing since birth. But hearing you say it was so raw: so true. So right.
He raises a brow “Doctor? News to me” “y’never asked.” You say gently. “Final call! Another round or get your asses safely home ladies and gents!” Penny announces in a holler from her position behind the bar, to the final few stragglers at the Hard Deck; including yourself and Jake.
He opens the door for you; winking as you feign flattery and naming him a gentleman, you both thanking Penny for the evening and leaving to your respected vehicles. “Now the bar’s are closin´, and we’re leavin´ at the same time” he comments, entwining your hand with his which you begrudgingly feel absentmindedly closing around his, also. You shake your head and look up to him “So stay in your lane, boy and I’ll stay in mine” you say and his eyes sadden slightly, reaching your car and you lean against it, welcoming him trapping you against the driver’s-side door “Ive been shot and I’ve been stabbed, but I’ve never been so sad knowing I’ll never see you again” he says, pulling your hand up to kiss each knuckle, not allowing himself to disrupt eye-contact; fearing that as quick as you came into his sights, you’d be gone.
You smile, using your free hand to caress his cheek slightly; him leaning into your soft touch. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’m at this bar every damn weekend” you say matter-of-factly, leaning to kiss his cheek before pulling away and climbing into your car. “Goodnight, Hangman.” And you reverse away, a pang in his heart until he felt for his phone in the back pocket of his summer whites, a small strip of paper falling out alongside it. He picks the unknown scribe from the gravel and inspect it - your phone number written in a neat hand and he grins - maybe his bedside manner was improving.
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And that mission crept up on the daggers quicker than they’d ever hoped and Hangman found himself antsy in his cockpit, about to take off to go save his instructor and career-long buddy: not that either of them would ever admit their comradeship. He closed his eyes and pictured your tired face that gleamed back at him at the twilight hour he’d last saw you, knowing you were the reason he’d return from this final task - listening to the air traffic control counting down until his take-off.
Before he’d realised, he’d acquired another air-to-air confirmed kill under his belt of a fifth-generation fighter and was headed back to base to celebrate. “Well done aviators, helicopter paramedics Reaper and Sunny are waiting on deck to check you all over.” The voice instructs over comms. “Reaper? Why’d they call ‘em that?” Hangman asks with a chuckle and the voice was dormant for a few seconds. “We usually send her when we think there’s gonna be dead needing reviving.” And soon the callsign wasn’t a joke and they realised the higher-ups were more prepared for this suicide mission than the pilots were.
Hangman climbed out of his aircraft and shook hands with Rooster, all just happy to be safe back on deck after a successful mission. “Lieutenant Seresin!” One of the engineers called “you’ve been instructed to go be checked over by Reaper.” Jake nods and walks through the crowd giving him pats on the back, to the helicopter. “Reaper? I’ve been told to be assessed.” The paramedic pivoted to face him and his facade dropped, as you stood before him in your pilot get-up and medical equipment strung onto your shoulder.
You sighed heavily “thank god you’re okay” you say and he wordlessly approaches you and dips you in a long-awaited kiss “please give me a chance, don’t make me stay in my lane, princess”
“Wouldn’t think of it, cowboy”
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allbark-no-bite · 5 months
Text
cowboy up.
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jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)
summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick
warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex
authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter
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"Well hello, mi cowboy."
It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.
El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.
"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.
You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."
Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.
But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.
When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."
"Really, Pen, I—"
Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.
Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.
He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.
"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.
What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.
"Jake?"
"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.
Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"
He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.
Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.
The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.
Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.
His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.
"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."
You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.
"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.
His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."
You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.
"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."
If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.
Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.
"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.
"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.
His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"
The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.
"Jesus. Get a room, you two."
Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.
Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.
"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."
Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.
"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.
Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."
The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"
You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.
Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.
"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.
Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."
You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.
You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.
"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.
Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."
Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face. 
"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes. 
Jake grins. "Damn straight."
"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.
You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth. 
You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest. 
Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”
Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”
The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.
Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”
Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.
Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.
You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”
Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.
You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”
“Yeah, I don’t think they—”
“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.
Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.”
Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”
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justabigassnerd · 3 months
Text
Patience Worn Thin
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Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader
Word Count - 2,300
Warnings - harassment, violence, injuries, alcohol, drinking, angst, fluff
Summary - after seeing someone bother Bradley one too many times, you take matters into your own hands
A/N - hey y'all I'm back with another anon request and I hope I did it justice! I am the most unconfrontational person on the planet so this was a little out of my depth but it's always good to try new things. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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“Hey babe, me and the Daggers are heading to the Hard Deck for a couple of drinks. Want to come?” Bradley says in his usual soft tone as he sweeps you up into a hug, holding you close as if he hadn’t seen you in years when in reality he had simply gone upstairs for a few minutes and just returned downstairs.
“If they’re okay with me tagging along.” You say, curling your arms around Bradley and resting your head just above his heart and listening to the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.
“They’re always okay with you coming. If they weren’t, they’d have to deal with me and Mav.” Bradley says, his soft chuckle rumbling against your ear before you lift your head off his chest, laughing to yourself as you visualise your boyfriend and your dad teaming up against all the Daggers. While you were Maverick’s daughter, you weren’t an aviator, instead, you had opted to work in nursing and found yourself working in a hospital local to where your dad and boyfriend worked.
“Guess we’re going to the Hard Deck then.” You say with a soft smile as you look up at Bradley as he looks down at you, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. When you both pull away, Bradley’s phone buzzes and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling it from his pocket and inspecting the text displayed.
“We better get a move on. Apparently, I owe Jake a darts match and I fear that if I don’t show up soon my callsign might change from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Chicken’.” Bradley says with a laugh as you move out of his embrace, laughing as you imagine him being called ‘Chicken’ day in and day out at work.
“Let’s get you down to the Hard Deck then. Can’t have my boyfriend being seen as someone afraid of a darts match against Jake of all people.” You say, patting Bradley’s chest before moving past him to get yourself ready to head to the bar.
When you are ready, you head out of the house with Bradley and get into the passenger seat of his Bronco, smiling as Bradley instinctively rests his free hand on your thigh as he drives, singing along to the radio under his breath as he goes. Eventually, he parks outside the Hard Deck and the two of you get out and head into the bar together.
“Want me to grab you a drink? I’ll be designated driver if you want?” You say, turning to face Bradley almost the moment the two of you entered the bar.
“Are you sure?” Bradley asks, soft enough for the moment to be just between the two of you but loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar.
“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with me driving the Bronco of course.” You say with a small smile as Bradley rests a hand on your waist, the other digging in his pocket and holding the Bronco keys between the two of you.
“There’s no one else I’d trust to drive her.” He says, grinning as you take the keys before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.
“Bradshaw! Get your ass over here!” You pull away with a giggle at Jake’s voice ringing clearly over the noise of the busy bar and Bradley rolls his eyes.
“He really knows how to pick a time, huh?” Bradley mutters, winding an arm around your waist and guiding you over to the Dagger's usual spot near the pool tables and dart board.
“Hey, you brought y/n!” Jake greets you enthusiastically as the two of you approach, instantly approaching you, arms outstretched for a hug that you’re more than happy to give him, pulling away and greeting the other Daggers with hugs before returning to Bradley’s side.
“Okay, I’m going to grab you a drink now. Beer?” You say to Bradley as he nods.
“That would be great, thank you.” Bradley says gratefully, kissing the top of your head before letting you cross the bar to talk to Penny.
“y/n! How lovely to see you.” Penny greets you happily, smiling as she leans up against the bar to talk to you.
“It’s good to see you too, Penny.” You say, smiling at Penny.
“Beers for you and Bradley?” Penny asks, instinctively reaching down to the fridge that contains the beers you and Bradley like to drink.
“Just one for Bradley. I’ll take a soda.” You say, pulling out your card and handing it to Penny to start a tab just in case you and Bradley wanted more drinks throughout the evening. Penny soon hands you your two drinks and you thank her with a smile before turning and heading back over to Bradley who was standing with Jake near the dart board.
“Here you go.” You say, holding Bradley’s beer out towards him as he takes it gratefully, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips in thanks.
“Get a room you two.” Jake grumbles, plucking the darts from the board and handing some of them to Bradley.
“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend. Then me and Bradley will be saying it to you.” You say with a laugh as Jake rolls his eyes. You then make your way over to Natasha and Bob, sitting with them and making conversation with them as Bradley and Jake play their darts match.
An hour or so later, after Jake and Bradley are finally done with their final match, you get up, excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave the group to their own devices for a few minutes. However, when you return, you can’t say you were impressed with the scene before you.
When you leave the bathroom, shaking the remnants of water off your hands, you see a woman almost draping herself over Bradley who doesn’t look entirely comfortable with her proximity. You could tell he was saying something to her, but you didn’t know what it was. You soon crossed the bar and sidled up alongside Bradley, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Hey babe. Who’s your friend?” You ask innocently, turning to look at the woman who had at least had the decency to take a step back.
“I’m Mia.” She says, barely giving Bradley a chance to respond, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
“Well, nice to meet you, Mia. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my boyfriend. It's our first time seeing each other in months. You can understand that, right?” The lie comes quickly and easily to you. You weren’t the biggest fan of sounding possessive over Bradley but after seeing how uncomfortable he had looked you didn’t want this person ever coming near him again. With a huff, Mia rolled her eyes and stalked off. The moment she was out of sight you turned to Bradley.
“I didn’t mean to speak for you. I could tell you weren’t comfortable.” You apologise quickly, stopping only when Bradley kisses you, words catching in your throat.
“Don’t apologise.” Bradley whispers after pulling away enough to speak, lips brushing against yours with every word spoken. You nod your head slightly at his words before pulling away, determined to spend the rest of the evening with your friends and forget about the incident that had happened as you hoped it was a one-time event.
Oh how wrong you were.
Bradley had gone to the Hard Deck a couple of times while you stayed home or had work and each time had come back complaining that Mia had been there and had been completely disregarding his obvious boundaries and ignoring that he had a girlfriend, having been convinced it was a ploy to keep her away, he had told you. Bradley had told you that all of the Daggers had tried to help him keep her away, but she was a lot more persistent than they expected. All you did at the moment was hug Bradley tight, feeling awful that he was going through that without you to help him before you spoke up.
“Next time you go to the Hard Deck, I’m coming with you.”
True to your word, the next time Bradley and the Daggers organised a time to go to the Hard Deck, you made sure you were free to accompany Bradley. The two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, walking in hand in hand as your eyes immediately scoured the bar looking for Mia, letting out a small, satisfied sigh when you couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gotten the hint after all, so you allowed yourself to relax as you crossed to the Daggers, greeting them all with a smile.
The evening progressed pleasantly, everyone laughing, playing pool, or gossiping about the new Top Gun recruits. Then the all-familiar bell rang signalling that someone would be paying for a round for everyone in the bar.
“I’m going to grab us all a drink.” You say, instantly excusing yourself to grab a drink for yourself and all your friends.
When you returned to the group, Mia was there. She had apparently escaped your skimmed searches of the bar and snuck in the moment you moved away from Bradley. You approached the table Mickey and Javy were sitting at and placed the tray down, immediately turning around and approaching her.
“Excuse me, I was very polite the first time that we met but I don’t appreciate that you keep trying to force yourself on my boyfriend and make him uncomfortable. Please leave him alone.” You say, firmness sneaking into your voice as you position yourself next to Bradley, noticing how all the Daggers immediately have their attention on you, ready to step in if needed.
“You’re clearly lying to yourself if you think that he could ever be your boyfriend. He’s way out of your league and much better suited to be dating someone like me. Besides it’s not like he was saying no.” Mia says with a snarky tone as she folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she looks you up and down.
“He wasn’t saying anything! Isn’t that enough of a hint for you?!” You cry out, growing more enraged when Mia just shrugs.
“I can tell when men like what I’m doing. Besides, men never say no. I know it can be hard to accept but sometimes men prefer people like me over people like you.” Mia’s chosen words enraged you so much that you did something you never thought you’d be capable of doing.
You punched her.
You would’ve regretted it had Mia not attacked you back. She practically pushed you to the floor and you were quick to drag her down with you, pinning her to the floor and just giving her hell. You couldn’t even recall what you were doing, you were just so blinded by your rage and this woman’s audacity. You kept throwing punches and slaps, as did Mia, a fair few coming into contact with you until you felt two muscular arms wrap around your middle and drag you off Mia and the moment you were clear, you were vaguely aware of Jake and Reuben stepping in between you and Mia as a barrier.
“y/n, honey, you need to calm down.” Bradley’s soothing, gentle voice whispers in your ear as he hauls you away from the chaos and holds you carefully in place, his eyes shining with worry as Natasha appears alongside him while Bob rushes to fill Penny in on what happened. Bradley guides you to the bar, sitting you on one of the stools while Natasha follows Penny to get you an ice pack. The second Natasha returns, Bradley takes the ice pack and holds it near your eye where he could tell a bruise was already beginning to form. You could hear Penny calling for Mia to be escorted out and given a ban from the Hard Deck and all you could think about was how grateful you were that she wouldn’t be around to bother Bradley anymore.
“I appreciate you defending me, y/n but you didn’t need to do this. You’re hurt.” Bradley mutters, eyes scanning you for any more injuries while he holds the ice pack in place.
“I couldn’t let her treat you like that. I just snapped.” You admit, looking up and making eye contact with the man you love.
“It happens to the best of us. I bet Mav’s done something like that before, it’ll be where you got that from.” Bradley says, smiling lightly as he changes the subject to bring a smile to your face which he was successful in doing.
“There’s no way dad hasn’t punched someone in the defence of someone he loves.” You giggle, wincing lightly when Bradley applies a little bit more pressure accidentally to the tender area, which of course makes him apologise instantly.
“I have to admit. It was really attractive seeing you defend me like that.” Bradley muses, moving the ice pack away from your eye and setting it on the countertop.
“Really?” You ask, feeling your face heat up at his words.
“Really. No one’s ever defended me like that before. It just means a lot more because it’s you.” Bradley says softly, cupping your face softly and leaning in until his lips meet yours, the kiss alone conveying everything Bradley needed to say. You both pull away when you hear the Daggers calling for both you and Bradley and you laugh as you glance from them to Bradley who lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.
“I think we should head over so you can talk to your fans, huh?”
617 notes · View notes
sparklypinkflightsuit · 19 hours
Text
Stars Align: Part 9 - Final
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Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Mentions of Abuse, Stalking, Sexual Themes, Trauma, Alcohol, Swearing, Home Intrusions, Attacks.
-- Part 8 Here --
________________________
18+ Only - Smutty Chapter + Possible Triggers
________________________
Present:
You walked into the bungalow, sufficiently shaken, and Bradley instructed you to sit down while he drew you a bath.
By the time he got back from the bathroom, he found you fast asleep, curled up on the sofa.
He smiled down at you as he gently stroked your hair from your face, you stirred and hummed, a sound that reached right inside Bradley and tugged at his heart strings.
“I love you, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered, and then scooped you up in his arms and carried you carefully to bed.
Once he’d removed your dress and tucked you in, ensuring you were asleep again, he left the room and checked the door and windows.
He thought Jacob's threat was just that, an empty threat, but he had to be sure you were safe.
Once he was truly satisfied everything was locked and there was no one lurking in the bushes outside, he finally allowed himself to reel in the whole night. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, sitting at the kitchen island while he drank it and his heart rate began to calm, the pain in his knuckles slowly subsiding.
In the bedroom, you stirred and felt around for Bradley. When you realised he wasn’t there, you got out of bed and walked out into the living room, the cool air on your almost bare skin making you shiver.
You suddenly heard a sniffling noise coming from the kitchen.
You stopped in the doorway as you found Bradley wiping his eyes as he sat, a half finished beer on the island in front of him.
“Bradley?”
He spun around, surprised to find you there, and quickly hid his face as he wiped the tears that slid down his cheeks.
You quickly crossed over to him, forcing him to turn around in his stool.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” You cooed, cupping his face in your hands. His hands fell naturally on your hips, rubbing the bare skin not covered by your underwear with his thumbs.
“Nothing, I’m fine. I didn’t see you there.” He hiccuped.
“Please talk to me, there’s obviously something wrong.” You pleaded.
Bradley lowered his head to rest on your chest and he sighed, “I’ve… I’ve never ever felt rage like that before. I’ve been in so many shitty situations before but nothing has ever made me see red like that. I thought I was going to kill him, Birdy.” He looked up at you and his eyes were filled with pain.
“I’m so sorry Roo, I never meant to put you in a situation like that.” You whispered.
His hands tightened on your hips as he shook his head, “No you don’t understand, I’m emotional because no one’s ever meant this much to me, to make me lose it like that. I know I’ve told you I love you already, but I think it’s finally hit me just how much. I don’t think there’s a word for it Birdy.”
“You don’t need to find a word for it, I know, Brad, I know. I can feel it. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” You slotted yourself in between his legs, threading your fingers through his golden curls. He moaned softly at your touch and his eyes closed.
“I’m scared to lose you.” He breathed.
“You’re not gonna lose me.” You kissed him softly, and Bradley’s arms circled around your waist. One more tear rolled down his cheek as he deepened the kiss, standing slowly from his seat.
He pressed you up against the kitchen island, as his kisses grew passionate and hungry. He bent down and picked you up by the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the island.
He slotted in between your legs and cupped your jaw, soft moans escaping both of you as you began to grow hot and desperate for one another.
“I want you.” Bradley growled against your lips, and you smirked as you reached back and unclasped your bra. He leaned back as he watched it fall and his hands briefly moved to caress your breasts.
“So beautiful.” He whispered, and then he was pulling his vest over his head.
You loved his bare skin, he was golden and toned and his huge muscles made you feel so small and fragile.
Your hands trailed down his chest to his v-line, and Bradley shivered as you unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down. Bradley was rock hard underneath his underwear, and you ran your hand over him. Bradley twitched and bit his lip as he watched your small hand run delicately along his length, but he had something entirely different in mind.
Pushing you gently back against the island, Bradley hooked his fingers into your underwear and slowly slid them down your thighs and discarded them to the floor.
He lifted one of your feet and began to kiss up from your ankle to your inner thigh, where he stopped teasingly.
His beautiful brown eyes, now black with lust, flitted up to look into yours as he slid two fingers into his mouth and then through your folds.
You gasped as you lay against the cold counter and threw your head back. Bradley growled as your back arched, and he slid a finger inside you, pumping twice before the second finger joined in your warmth. You whimpered as he pumped slowly, curling inside you, but when you felt his lips gently press against your clit, you bucked into him.
You felt him grin against you and then his tongue darted out and swiped through your folds. He continued to pump and curl his fingers slowly as his lips sucked around your bundle of nerves, his tongue taking turns circling and flattening against you, a pattern that quickly had you panting.
“That’s my good girl, cum for me.” He hummed against you, speeding up his movements, his nose teasingly bumping your clit and his moustache prickling your sensitive skin. Wet sounds spurred you on as your legs began to shake and tighten around Bradley’s head, and you felt yourself coming undone, clenching around Bradley’s fingers with a loud, shaky moan.
Bradley felt himself throbbing painfully as he enjoyed the show from his front row seat, but neither of you were aware of the third pair of eyes that also watched from just outside the kitchen window.
————————————
Past:
The months passed and you and Bradley maintained contact, calling one another regularly, which turned gradually to text.
When Bradley went off to college, the texting and calls grew less and less, with the time difference and classes getting in the way. Truth be told Bradley had begun enjoying partying, and that took up a lot of his spare time.
You went off to college not long after and it was then that your schedules really clashed, and your almost hourly texting became weekly, if that, and calls came to a halt.
It’s not that you didn’t think about Bradley, in fact he plagued your thoughts and clouded your mind almost constantly, at first. But then when you’d started your new job, and met Jacob, you finally had something more tangible to focus your energy on, and you didn’t have the time to think about your feelings for Bradley as much.
Bradley also dove into partying and meaningless relationships to drown out his desperate need for you, and the intense feeling of missing you at every moment of the day. But as you began to text less, his pride stopped him from following up with you, and then the texting stopped altogether.
When Carole passed away, Bradley only wanted you there to comfort him, but he was too grief stricken to even pick up the phone. He knew he should tell you, but he couldn’t face breaking your heart the way his had been.
When Bradley found out he’d finally been accepted into the Naval Academy, the first person he thought about was you. He decided that enough time had passed, and he should break the bad and good news to you. He picked up the phone and dialled your number, but the line just beeped and the call ended. He tried to text you but the messages didn’t go through, and his heart shattered. Had you changed your number and forgotten to tell him?
A few months later, Bradley was in the process of moving, packing up his and his mothers things when he came across the forgotten love letter under the chest of drawers, dusty and lonely on the floor.
Bradley suddenly realised what he needed to do, as he dusted off the letter and his heart began to thud.
The plane journey was agonisingly long because he was so desperate to just see you, hold you and finally tell you how he felt. He’d left it far too long, and he knew it was finally time.
The rental car seemingly wouldn’t drive fast enough, and Bradley cursed loudly as the heavy traffic slowed him even more, as if the universe was trying to stop him for some reason.
Finally he pulled up outside your apartment, his heart ready to explode out of his chest, a beaming smile taking over his handsome face, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the love letter in the other. It was time, finally.
He crossed over the small lawn and looked up at the big bay windows of the apartment block, and he stopped dead in his tracks.
There in one of the windows, totally unaware of his presence, stood the love of his life in the arms of another man.
You giggled as the man kissed your neck, and then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you off somewhere deep inside the apartment.
Bradley’s heart shattered into a million pieces, as he dropped the bouquet onto the ground. He’d waited too long, and now it was too late. A thick lump formed in Bradleys throat as he nodded to himself. He scrunched up the love letter in his clenched fist and skulked back to the car.
That was the last time Bradley would see you, until that night in a New York bar, when stars finally aligned.
———————————————
Present:
A few weeks later, you started to feel tired all the time, more emotional, sensitive and nauseas.
You knew you and Bradley had been less than careful, so you told him you were just popping out for a few things and would be back soon.
Bradley kissed you goodbye and you walked the short distance to the local store.
You felt sheepish and awkward as you paid for the pregnancy test and slid the box in your handbag. As you walked back to the bungalow you considered what a baby could do to your relationship. You hadn’t discussed it so you had no idea if Bradley even wanted children.
You were suddenly overcome with nerves, and very very nauseas.
When you walked through the door, Bradley asked you if you wanted a glass of wine out in the garden while he fired up the grill, you refused and said you were going to take a shower.
Bradley thought it was very unlike you, but he knew you were feeling under the weather, so told you to call him if you needed anything.
You disappeared into the bathroom, breathing a shaky breath as you pulled out the box.
You took the test and you waited, waited with bated breaths. After a few minutes you gained the courage to pick up the stick, and you let out a sob.
Bradley whistled as he started the grill, the sun baking against his broad back. He had never been happier in life and things were perfect.
He had a deployment coming up but that was still a few weeks away, so he wouldn’t worry about that until it was closer to the time, for now he just wanted to enjoy the perfect life he had somehow fallen into.
“Bradley.” You said in a small voice behind him. Bradley spun around and smiled at you.
“Hey beautiful.” He smiled, “Are you okay?” He chuckled.
You were smiling at him but you looked like you were about to burst into tears.
“Yeah, I’m more than okay. But…” and then it started, the waterworks, you couldn’t turn them off and you sobbed.
Bradley quickly crossed over to you and pulled you into him. “Woah woah, what’s wrong? I thought you said you were okay?” He chuckled sympathetically.
“I am.” You sobbed into his bare chest. Bradley pulled back so he could look at your face, worry etched on his now.
“Then why are you crying, sweetheart?”
You sniffled up at him and let out a wet laugh. You reached into your back pocket and handed the stick to Bradley.
He pulled in a sharp breath as he realised what he was holding, and slowly flipped it over.
He let out a short chuckle, a hand moving to his head as he stared at the stick.
His eyes grew watery as he looked at you in awe.
“You’re...?”
You nodded, shaking with adrenaline.
“Oh my god, that means I’m…” his voice was shaky.
“Yeah, you’re gonna be a dad.” You said in a small voice.
A smile took over Bradley’s face as he scooped you up and spun you around until you stopped him for fear of throwing up. He put you down as you both chuckled through the tears, he cupped your face and kissed you for a long time.
“Oh my god, oh my god…” he mumbled, “I’m gonna be a dad.”
“Are you happy?”
“Are you kidding? I thought life was perfect a minute ago, I was wrong, it’s perfect now. It can’t believe this.” He looked at you seriously, nodding. “Wait, are you happy?”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Happiest I’ve ever been, Roo.”
Bradley kissed you deeply, and when he pulled away his grin grew even bigger.
“I want to celebrate, tonight. If you’re not up for going out for dinner, how about I make us something nice, get some non alcoholic champagne, run a bubble bath, give you a massage, what do you think?” He purred.
“Mmmm, that sounds nice.” You grinned up at him.
Bradley went inside and drew you a bubble bath, little candles scattered all around the bathroom to help you relax.
You made a mental note to call Gabby afterwards to break the news to her too, and then you climbed into the bath and sighed as you relaxed in the hot water.
Bradley promised to be right back, he was just going shopping to grab the drinks and something for dinner, while you soaked.
You heard the front door close and sighed as you felt the lingering nausea begin to pass. You rested your hand on your stomach and breathed out a soft laugh, you still couldn’t believe it, but in all honesty you really shouldn’t have been surprised.
Bradley would be the best dad, you could just feel it.
You heard the front door open and close, and you grinned. “You forget your wallet again?” You called out.
You heard no response, so you sank under the bubbles and floated for a while, enjoying the silent echoes that being under water provided. It reminded you of all the times you’d gone swimming in the sea, a sense of peace and tranquillity that relaxed your muscles.
You didn’t hear when the bathroom door opened, or the dull thud of heavy shoes crossing slowly over to the tub.
The only thing you noticed, was a shadow passing across the candle light behind your eyelids, and your eyes flew open as a pair of hands closed around your neck.
———————————
Still Present:
Bradley whistled as he parked his bronco, hopping out and crossing the parking lot to the supermarket. He had a spring in his step as he picked out two bottles of non alcohol champagne, then scanning the isles for dinner inspiration.
He had steak in mind, but wasn’t sure if that would be too heavy for you while you weren’t feeling 100%, so opted for Fettuccine Alfredo instead with a light side salad. As he browsed for ingredients, he felt a shiver creep up his spine, and his heart began to thud. He took a deep breath and pushed the feeling to the back of his mind as he shopped.
He walked past the baby isle, and had to stop himself from letting out a whoop. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick little browse while we was here, he knew it was still very early, but he wanted to buy something that he could use to break the news to his squad with before he left for his deployment.
The thought of leaving you now was almost unbearable, so he distracted himself as he walked past onesies, baby booties and toys of all shapes and sizes.
He chuckled as he came across a teddy bear with Aviators, and knew he had to have it.
________________________
Still Present:
You struggled under the water as the strong hands tightened around your neck. Your nails dug into your attackers arms as you tried with all your might to pry their hands off of you, quickly running out of air the longer you were held under.
Suddenly you were pulled out of the tub and dropped on the cold tile floor with a heavy, wet thud, and you gasped for the air you so desperately needed.
Your eyes were blurry from tears and soapy bath water, and you blinked rapidly trying to clear them, although you already knew who was in the room with you. You could smell him, his musky cologne one that was etched into the very fibre of every nightmare you'd had in the last few years.
''Jake-'' you spluttered, coughing as the words burned your throat, ''Jacob, what are you doing?''
Before you could even sit up, or try to cover your naked body, his hands were around your throat again and he dragged you across the floor towards the bedroom.
You tried to scream, you tried so hard, but it was proving impossible.
With one hand around your neck, his other grabbed your hair and you were suddenly being hoisted onto the bed and thrown into the headboard.
You began to sob as you quickly covered yourself with the duvet, cowering as far away from him as you could possibly get.
''I heard the good news. Congrats.'' he spat, walking around the bed towards you.
''Why are you doing this? Bradley will be home any minute.'' you sobbed.
''Not likely, plus I may have put the chain lock on the door.'' he grinned, kneeling on the bed in front of you. You couldn't move, your body was frozen, plus you knew if you did, he was too fast and too strong and it would likely make things worse for you.
''Don't cry sweetheart, you know I hate it when you cry.'' He swiped your cheek and you flinched away from him. Big mistake.
His grin turned into a scowl within a split second, and suddenly your head was hitting the headboard with a loud crack. You cried out and again your head hit the headboard.
You felt dizzy and Jacob turned blurry again as you touched your head, warmth covering your fingertips.
He let go of you and crossed to the foot of the bed, bending over and grabbing your ankles roughly, dragging you down the bed. You didn't fight it, you couldn't, your body felt limp.
''Anyway, like I was saying at the bar before we were so rudely interrupted... When you left it really hurt me, it was a stab in the back I really didn't expect, you know?'' he chuckled psychotically. ''You could have at least given me the courtesy to say goodbye, or something.''
You groaned, trying to force yourself up and out of his vice grip.
He pulled your legs again, harder this time and you fell back down.
''We were so good together, Y/N. We could have gotten married, had kids by now, if you'd just fucking behaved yourself.''
You whimpered, ''Help! Please, somebody!''
You felt a sharp slap across your upper thigh.
''Bad girl, I'm still talking.'' he tutted, hardly worried about your cries for help, they were so week and quiet, he was sure no one would hear.
You sobbed, your head was throbbing. ''Why are you here? What do you want?''
''Well, that should be my baby. You should be my wife. This should be my life. He stole you from me, so now I'm going to ruin you for him.''
''Fuck you.'' you ground out as you kicked with all of your force at his face.
Most of it missed, but your heel did catch his jaw and he stumbled back in surprise. You crawled to the end of the bed as he lunged for you.
His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked again with your free foot, managing to just slip out of his grip.
You fell to the floor with a thump and forced yourself to your feet. You could hear him climbing off of the bed and walking around to you, but you didn't dare look back.
Running as fast as you could to the bedroom door, you actually thought you were going to make it, but suddenly a hand was in your hair and a strong arm was wrapping around your waist, tugging you back into the room.
_____________________________
Still Present:
Bradley pulled up the drive, parked the bronco and fished the bag of groceries from the back seat.
He whistled as he walked up to the front door and turned the handle. The door didn't budge, so he figured he must have locked it on his way out after all. He dug in his pockets for his house keys and tried again to open the door. The door opened a few inches and stopped.
Bradley cocked an eyebrow in confusion and put the shopping bag down on the ground. He slid his hand up the crack in the door, and his heart stopped as he felt the cold metal of the chain lock in place.
''Birdy? Did you lock the door baby girl?'' he called.
The house was silent, so he tried again. ''Babe? Can you unlock the door, please?''
Nothing. Bradley began to panic. You had never locked the door with the chain lock before, and even if you had, why weren't you responding.
Without further hesitation, Bradley took a step back and launched himself at the door.
It didn't give way, so he walked further back and ran at the door, throwing his entire weight against it. With a loud crack the chain snapped and the door flew open, hitting the bungalow wall with a deafening bang.
And then he heard your muffled scream, desperate and hoarse.
Bradley ran for the bathroom, but found nothing but a pool of water on the floor and candle wax strewn across the tiles.
''Birdy?!'' he called, and a softer, muffled cry slipped through the bedroom door.
Bradley was on auto pilot as he burst through the bedroom door to find Jacob straddling your naked body on the bed, he was still fully clothed, but he had you pinned to the bed, both of your hands in one of his above your head and his other hand covering your mouth.
There was blood on the white sheets and Bradley couldn't see where it was coming from. His body went numb as he surged towards the bed and tackled Jacob off of you and to the ground.
The two men landed with a heavy thump and immediately Bradleys fist lifted in the air and then swung down, connecting with Jacobs jaw. Again the fist rose in the air and went hurtling down onto your attackers face, and you forced yourself off of the bed, grabbing your robe and quickly covering yourself.
You felt sullied, dirty even, having had Jacob see you in your most vulnerable form, even if he had already done so in the past, you were no longer his to see like that.
You forced yourself onto wobbly legs and stumbled dizzily over to where Bradley continued to beat Jacob.
As you rounded the bed, a glint of something shiny caught your eye, but it was too late, the knife was already in the air and plunging into Bradleys torso before you could even utter a warning.
You screamed as Bradley stopped, a shaky hand moving to touch the knife wedged between his ribs. He pulled the knife out and threw it to the floor, gasping. With one last furious glance at the bloodied Jacob, Bradley's fist connected once more with his face, and Jacob was knocked out.
Bradley collapsed onto his side, gasping for air. You fell down next to him to assess his wound, yours suddenly seeming so trivial, and you wanted to scream as the blood pulsed out of him.
''I- I'm going to call an ambulance, keep your hand there.'' you wept, and ran to the livingroom.
The phone rang for what felt like forever, but finally connected, and then everything went black.
__________________________
Bradley woke up in the hospital bed a week later. The doctors said he'd lost a lot of blood and punctured a lung, he was very lucky to be alive. The first thing he asked for was you, but the nurse said you'd been called down to the police station for another statement, and you'd be back soon.
When you did get back, you cried and held Bradley for what felt like forever. You didn't remember much, but apparently you'd just managed to mutter the address to the 911 operator before you passed out, and by the time they'd arrived, Jacob was coming to.
The scene was a complete mess, with two unconscious and one just barely able to speak or move.
They'd called your emergency contact, who just so happened to be Gabby, and explained the situation. They described the two men you were with, and as soon as they did, she went numb. She told them about Jacob and to not let him out of their sight, and that you'd confirm everything when you woke up.
Gabby got on the next flight to California, and was by your bedside when you woke up.
You told the police what happened and when you were ready they started questioning.
Jacob was now safely behind bars, for the time being at least.
Bradley was terrified to ask, but even more terrified not knowing.
''Is...is the baby okay?''
You stroked his face and kissed his forehead. ''Yeah, they're fine.''
''They?'' Bradley wasn't sure he heard you correctly, and he must still be woozy.
''Yeah, they. There's sort of... two of them.''
Bradley chuckled in happy disbelief, and looked at you like he had never seen anything more beautiful, anything more amazing than you in that moment.
He cupped your face and his eyes locked on yours, ''I love you, Birdy...'' Bradley breathed. ''I've loved you since what feels like the beginning of time, and I'll love you until the end of it. I would have really liked to have done this somewhere less... sterile, and without a hole in my lung-'' he tried to chuckle but winced in pain, ''but I don't think any other moment would be better than this...''
He took a deep breath and grinned, ''Marry me?''
___________________________
The End.
Hope you enjoyed this series and this part wasn't too heavy!
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38 notes · View notes
mothdruid · 1 year
Text
Concerned Neighbor
pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader
summary: Bradley and you are neighbors, sharing a duplex owned by Mav. But Bradley never realized how paper thin the walls really were until one night. He learned the difference between your moans, from true pleasure and fake pleasure. He makes it a point to show you true pleasure when with someone.
wc: 4.5k
warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, protected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (male and female), vaginal fingering, jealousy, listening through the walls, possessive!Bradley, degradation and praise kinks
a/n: this idea was brought to you by @emerald-chaos and it's also unbeta'd, so don't mind my mistakes pls. and yes, I'm using the same Bradley gif I use for all my Bradley fics.
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When Mav first brought up renting out the other half of the duplex, Bradley was hesitant. He had been reminded that it was Mav’s decision and to 'play nice' with the other tenant. And how could Bradley not 'play nice' when you were the person he was sharing a wall with. He would never forget the first time he met you, your smile bright as you awkwardly tried to open your door while carrying a box. That's where Bradley came in, offering to help carry the box. And that was where your friendship began.
Bradley did admit it was nice having you there. You watched his cat while he went on leave, making you its mother practically. Him mowing your side of the lawn, you collecting his mail while he was gone. It created this odd relationship, which created your now bi-weekly dinner date the two of you had. Sharing your company for a little while every so often made him not feel as lonely. Reminding him he still had the proper skills to interact with more than just fellow aviators.
Everything was just going swimmingly until he heard it one night. That's when he started to curse the fact your bedroom was next to his. Only a thin wall separating the two rooms. Bradley assumed that his room lined yours, but this was a confirmation. At first he wasn’t sure if it was all just in his head. He hadn’t been physical with anyone for a long time, so maybe it was his brains way of saying he needed to get a fuck in. But then he heard it again. And again.
It was the sound of you, moaning in pleasure. Bradley wasn't quite sure when his hand had drifted down to his grey sweatpants, palming his growing erection. He hadn't realized how paper thin the walls were, your breathing was almost audible to him. Hearing every moan and gasp you had to offer.
The thought of you touching yourself, vibrator on your clit, or maybe even a dildo inside of you had Bradley biting back groans. It wasn't like he never thought of you as attractive, cause God you were to him. The image of you laid out for him, touching yourself or eagerly taking his cock had him fisting his dick. Your mouth would be hanging open, those moans he was hearing falling past your lips.
It was obvious when you crept closer to your orgasm, moans getting louder and more frequent. So he timed it perfectly, thrusting into his hand and groaning when eventually he heard you hit your climax. He followed suit shortly afterwards, hot spurts of cum covering his stomach. Bradley laid there staring at the ceiling with his hand still wrapped around his cock, wondering how he would ever face you again.
A few days passed and he didn't see you, not really leaving the house in all honesty. Even though he wasn't seeing you, he was still hearing you. Every night he would hear your moans. Bradley couldn't help but take advantage of them every night, fucking his hand and wishing it was you instead. Then one day, he was greeted by a new car in your driveway. He assumed it was a friend, until later that night.
It was almost like a schedule. He would get in bed at 8pm every night, wait about ten minutes, then hear your moans, signaling it was time for him to shuck off his sweatpants. But tonight wasn't like that. He didn't hear anything from your side of the wall until about 8:40pm. He knows because he checked his phone. And the noises he heard tonight weren't the same.
The sounds he heard tonight were a different pitch, not sounding like you. They sounded forced, fake. Bradley even got out of bed to check the driveway, still seeing that unfamiliar car in your driveway. He honestly couldn't bear the thought of it. You fucking someone was fine, but not being pleased and full of pleasure? Hell no, you deserved more than subpar sex. He hadn't even heard the usual climax ending you had every night.
Bradley didn't know how to approach the situation though. It's not like he could just bring it up to you, explaining that he could hear you through the walls. You would definitely move out after that confession he figured. So, Bradley decided not to ignore you anymore. He would come over daily and ask how you were and if you needed my help around the house. Hell, he even mowed your half of the yard. But it got him nowhere.
Bradley was yearning for your bi-weekly dinner, only a week away. He wanted something to happen that night, hoping you'd give him some form of opening. He saw that same unfamiliar car five days before your dinner, making him irritated. Bradley knew he wouldn't be able to take another night of your fake moans, so he left and went to the local bar for a few hours.
When he came home the car was gone and the lights on your side of the duplex were still on. Bradley slipped into his own side, finding his way into bed quickly. He laid there for a few moments, ruminating on the idea of you getting fucked by some random man that didn't even know how to please you properly. After a few more moments he heard it though. Heard you.
It was those soft and pleasure filled moans he loved to hear. They immediately went to his cock. His hand palmed at the front of his boxers, as he listened. Every moan was something angelic yet sinful. Bradley craved to hear them without the barrier of the wall so bad. His hand pumped his cock as he heard your moans pick up.
A heat was rising in his chest and cheeks, his mind thinking about how good you would look splayed out. Legs spread wide, one set of fingers working your clit, while your other hand pumped a dildo in and out of your greedy hole. Bradley bit back a groan, thinking about what it'd feel like to be inside of you. Bradley paced himself with your moans, waiting until the last moment to follow you over the edge. As he laid there on his bed with his spent cock resting against his abdomen, he wondered how he was going to face you at dinner.
The bi-weekly dinner came faster than what Bradley expected. Five days passed in the blink of an eye. But he had heard you every night, and that car never showed back up. He hoped that the car would never show back up again. He wanted you to be taken care of, hoping he would be the one to do it.
You were currently on his living room floor, twirling a stick with ribbons attached to it across the floor for his cat. His cat, Twix, aggressively chased the blue curled up ribbons back and forth on the floor. Twix was a stray that Bradley had found, the short haired tabby keeping him company and not completely lonely. Bradley watched the two of you play as he continued with dinner. He wasn't sure when you noticed him watching, but he couldn't help but smile when he caught your gaze.
God, you were going to be the death of him.
Bradley got out a can of cat food, distracting Twix from the toy you had. After Bradley plated Twix's canned food, he made up both of your plates and took them to the table. There was just small talk through the entire dinner, Bradley not wanting to ruin it with the main topic on his mind.
"You okay, B?" Bradley nodded with a small smile.
"Yeah, I think so." You tilted your head.
"Think so?" You shot him a questioning look. "You know you can tell me." Both of your plates were empty, signaling to Bradley he could finally bring up the subject.
"Who did you have over this week?" Bradley didn't mean for it to come out so demanding. But it did, and there was no way of taking it back.
"What do you mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him.
"There was a car in the driveway."
"Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't matter."
"I can see who I want to see."
"I know you ju-"
"Sorry, I'm not like you." Bradley's eyebrows knitted together, his hazel eyes staring at you intensely.
"I'm sorry, what?" You knew you ticked a nerve.
"Bradley, you know what I mean."
"No, not sure I do. Explain. Now." The tone in his voice sent a chill down your spine. You straighten your posture, interlacing your fingers and placing your hands on the table.
"Well you just. All because you don't bring anyone home doesn't mean I don't have to." You thought it'd be awkward, but it wasn't. Something in his stare had changed, it wasn't intimidating anymore. It was something more playful. A smirk pulled at one side of his mouth.
"Even if he can't get you off." Your eyes grew wide.
"Wha-"
"You think I don't hear you?" You stared at him. A heat started to rise in your cheeks, as well as between your thighs. Bradley had been listening to you? The thought of him fisting his cock while listening to you fuck someone else plagued your mind. "Hear your little moans every night?" That's when it dawned on you. Your room shared a wall with Bradley's.
Bradley took notice of the way your face changed. It wasn’t shocking, more akin to something else. He watched as you took your lower lip between your teeth, gaze looking away from him for a moment. You took your hands from the table, placing them in your lap. Your thighs squeezed tightly as you felt his eyes crawl over you. You had always found Bradley attractive, but never considered the possibility of him coming on to you. The thought of him jerking off to your sounds plagued your mind, showing you just how desperate he actually was for you. Your eyes flicked up to meet his blazing hazel orbs. A surge of courage ran through your veins.
“How many times did you hear me?”
“All of them.” A heat blazed through your body like a forest fire. “You should fuck someone who actually makes you feel good.” Bradley leaned across the table, playful smirk on his lips. “Someone that has you moaning like when you finger fuck yourself.” Your insides clenched at his words, thighs squeezing together once more.
“Is that what you want?” A tension was swirling between the two of you now. The both of you knew exactly what each other wanted.
“Just a concerned neighbor is all.”
“If you’re so concerned about this problem, then fix it.” You emphasized the T at the end of the sentence. Bradley quirked an eyebrow. The two of you stared at each other for a while, only the small bell on Twix’s collar filling the silence.
“You sure you want that?” Bradley asked. “Want me to ruin you for anyone else? Make you come crawling back?” Bradley stood up, taking a few steps until he was standing next to you. You turned and looked up at him, eyes unwavering as you answered him.
“Show me what a ‘concerned neighbor’ can do.” Bradley’s hand moved to your chin, taking it between his thumb and pointer finger. A smirk adorned his face, eyes scanning your face.
“God, you’re so fucking pretty.” Bradley’s fingers started pulling on your chin, hinting at you to stand up. You made your way to your feet, a fire surging underneath your skin. His fingers drifted down your jaw, hand moving to cup the back of your neck. Bradley leaned down, lips barely touching your earlobe. “I can’t wait to hear those pretty moans. The ones you make while you touch yourself.”
Teeth and lips clashed together, neither of you sure who kissed the other first. Bradley’s fingers tightened around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer towards him. His hand grabbed at your hip, kneading the flesh underneath your t-shirt. One of your hands threaded into his honey locks, tugging lightly. They were softer than you had ever imagined.
“Fuck.” Bradley whispered, his hot lips traveling down your jawline to your neck. The hand on the back of your neck disappeared, ghosting down your side to your hips. Rough hands grappled with your waist, kneading at the flesh under your shirt. The tiny hairs of his mustache prodded at your skin, urging you to keep up with him. It was as if Bradley wanted to consume you, know everything your body had to offer.
Bradley needed to know the exact things that made you moan. One of his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you flush against him. A hardness pressed against your abdomen and pelvis, letting you know Bradley was enjoying this. Your hips rocked against his, the hand on your ass trailing to the small of your back. He kept you pressed against him like that as he backed you up towards the wall.
A hand was now pressing on your core, rubbing you over your pants. Bradley pulled back to watch you, listening to your gasps and moans while he provided you with minimal pleasure.
“Must have thought about this for a while, with the way you’re moaning.” Bradley sneered. It wasn’t a lie, ever since you had moved in he plagued your mind. He was your main source of masturbation material, the idea of him being more than just your neighbor.
“What if I have? Thought about this before.” The words were like honey to Bradley, sweet and just what he wanted. Both of his hands went to the front of your body, one moving to work at the button of your pants while the other kneaded your breast.
“Is that what you thought about when you fucked yourself? Wishing it was me deep inside of you?” His hand slipped down the front of your pants and panties, fingers slipping between your folds. A groan tore through Bradley’s throat. “Fuck, how are you this wet already? This wet and we still have our clothes on.”
“It’s been a serious problem.” He covers your neck with hot and wet kisses, fingers circling your clit. They were tight and quick circles, ones that made your abdomen tense up. You knew you would last long, especially at this pace. It’s like Bradley already had a map of your body, with each sensitive spot marked with an ‘x’.
“Should have let me fix it sooner. Not have those useless dudes try to fix it.” Bradley’s tone had your insides melting. All you could do was stare at him, lips parted while moans fell from them. Without warning he removed his hand from your pants, turning you around and pressing you against the wall. His hands hooked into your pants and panties and pushed them down to your knees. His hand returned, this time his fingers tracing your entrance.
“God, this hole is so needy for me.” Bradley pressed two fingers into you, filling you up just the way you needed. He draped his body over yours, pressing your chest to the wall. His mouth nursed at your neck, nipping at the tender spot below your earlobe.
“Only for you, Bradley.” A soft growl came from him, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, stretching you open. A wave of pleasure ran over you as his fingers brushed that special spot inside of you. “Fuck! Ri-right there.”
Bradley added another finger at your words, zeroing in on that one spot inside of you. He could feel your walls clenching, tightening around his digits. He knew you were close and so did you. The tightness in your abdomen was almost unbearable, waiting for the tension to snap. A mix of swears and his name were pouring out of your mouth.
“You sound so fucking good moaning my name.” Bradley’s cock twitched every time you moaned his name. He never realized how much of an effect it would have on him. “Only my name, nobody else's. Nobody can make you feel like this, only me.” Bradley whispered in your ear.
“Only you, Br-Bradley!” You stuttered at his name as you came. The tension in your abdomen finally snapped. Your walls tightened around his digits and he helped you ride out your high. A groan came from him, his forehead pressing tightly to your shoulder as he just felt and listened to you.
A shaky breath passed your lips when he removed his fingers from you. Bradley’s hands found your pants and panties that were still around your knees, pushing them down and helping you fully remove them. He pressed kisses all the way up the back of your legs, biting at the meat of your ass eventually. As your legs regained consciousness, he gestured for the two of you to go to his bedroom.
“If I’m fucking you right, I’m fucking you in my bed.” You nodded, still a little blissed out from your first orgasm. You took the hand he had held out and followed him.
You immediately climbed onto his bed, not waiting for him to direct you. He shucked his shirt off once reaching the bedroom, just in time to watch you. Bradley stood at the foot of the bed, watching you put on a show for him. The skin of your back slowly became more exposed and you dragged your shirt up your body. His eyes scanned your skin, taking it all in as territory that he finally was able to claim. He couldn't help his hand drifting towards his pants, rubbing at the strained fabric covering his cock. He saw the bubblegum pink bralette, making him wonder if your panties were matching. He didn’t pay much attention to them when he took them off you. Your hand trailed up your sides, grabbing at the band of your bralette and tossing it to his floor.
Bradley bit his lower lip, coming around the side of the bed to see you. You turned to him, letting him see you completely bare. Bradley started to kneel at the edge of the bed, his hands moving out to grab your legs. He pulled you closer to the edge, pushing your legs apart and putting your cunt on full view for him.
“Look at you.” Bradley said as he dove between your thighs. He drug his tongue up and down your slit, flicking it against your clit. He brought a hand around your thigh, using his fingers to open your folds even more. You propped yourself up on your elbows, moaning and whining as he feasted on your cunt.
It was as if he was a mad man and this was his only purpose. His mustache rubbed against your clit as he licked lower, your hips stuttering at the sensation. Your back arched when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance again, pushing inside of you while his tongue worked over your clit. Shivers ran through you as the tension in your abdomen returned. Bradley groaned against you, the vibrations making your legs shake. You brought a hand to his locks, threading your fingers through them.
“You taste so fucking good.” Bradley groaned as you tugged at his hair. The tension in your abdomen was tight, threatening to snap at any moment. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking just enough to push you over the edge. His tongue never left your clit, flicking as your body shook with pleasure.
“Bradley! Fuck!” Your legs went to squeeze shut, the sensation becoming too much. But Bradley stopped them, grabbing the inside of your thighs and forcing them open. Your entire body was tight, your orgasm feeling like it was never going to end. “It’s too much! Bradley, please!”
Bradley pulled back after you begged him to stop, letting you finally catch your breath. You laid on the bed, chest heaving from each breath. This was the first time you had ever felt like this, this blissed out from a man. You had enough trouble getting off once during sex with most men, let alone twice. But here was your neighbor, easily pulling to orgasms out of you because he was jealous. That’s when you heard the sound of a zipper, pulling you back from your post-orgasmic thoughts.
Bradley was standing up now, jeans low and open on his hips. His hand was pushed down past his waistband, working his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Steadily you sat up, legs draping down off the side of the bed. You reached out, pulling at the waistband of his jeans. You pushed them down his legs, him kicking them off to the side. Next your fingers trailed around the waistband of his boxer briefs.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.” Bradley joked as he watched your fingers slip into the waistband. You flicked him a glare as you pushed them down his legs. His cock was red and angry, standing at full attention. You had always assumed he was big, but this just confirmed your suspicions. You wrapped a hand around the base stroking lightly. Bradley watched with his mouth agape, tongue running over his lips.
You pressed your lips to the tip, licking softly before taking the tip into your mouth. Bradley let out a deep groan as he watched your lips part, taking him into your mouth. He let his head fall back, trying to focus on the feeling of your hot mouth wrapped around his cock. This was a moment he had dreamed of since hearing your moans. But he didn’t know if it was enough. He wanted to be in you, fucking you until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“I can’t.” You gave him a curious look, pulling off of him. Before you could ask him he spoke, “I need to be in you now.”
Bradley pushed you up the bed, draping his body over yours. He reached over into his bedside table, grabbing for a condom. You watched as he tore the wrapper with his teeth, tossing the wrapper to the floor. He rolled the condom down his cock, running his cock between your folds. Every time his head rubbed your clit you quaked, shocks of pleasure rolling through you.
“God, you’re gonna look so good taking me. Letting me ruin you for everyone else, making sure you only want me.” Bradley settled between your legs and lined up, pressing the head of his cock in your entrance.
A moan fell from you as he pushed in you, stretching you with only the head of his cock. Inch by inch he eased into you, rocking his hips slowly. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, kissing at your clavicle. When he was fully seated inside of you he paused, listening to your breaths. He pulled back to look at you, a look asking for permission on his face.
“Fuck me, Bradley. Make me yours.” Bradley groaned. His hips pulled back, slamming back into you in an instant. He set a brutal pace, heavy deep thrusts as he filled you. He kissed down your neck and chest, kissing at your breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth.
“You’re so fucking dirty, fucking other men while wishing they were me.” His words were intoxicating, speaking truth that you didn’t know he knew. You clenched around him at his words, letting him know he was right. “What a fucking slut. But that’s okay, I have you now. Gonna fuck you so good.” Bradley continued to babble on, talking about how you were made for him and that he was made for you.
“Bradley, you- fuck!” Bradley adjusted, changing the position slightly. He sat back on his heels, grabbing the underneath of your knees and holding your legs out. He thrusted inside of you, immediately hitting that spot inside of you. Your back arched hard, walls clenching around him. Bradley didn’t like to be a two minute man, but the way you were squeezing around his cock was making it hard.
“You feel so fucking good! Fuck! It’s like you’re sucking me in.” Bradley pushed your legs together, leaning over you. He practically had you folded in half as he pounded into you. “Say it, please say my name.” It was almost like a plea when he asked.
“Bradley! Please!” Bradley knew you were close, he could feel how close you were. He was close too, had been close for awhile but was trying to hold out for you. It was all becoming too much for you. You were on the edge of your third orgasm, the spot inside of you being hit over and over again. Bradley let your legs fall apart, finding your clit with his fingers and rubbing it. That was it.
His name was all you said as you came, clenching his cock impossibly tight. Bradley held out for a bit longer, helping you ride out your orgasm. He leaned down and captured your lips with his, a small taste of you still noticeable. You moaned as he pounded into you a little bit more, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.
A groan ripped through him as he came, his thrusts stuttered as he unloaded into the condom. He rested his head on your chest, the both of you trying to catch your own breath. You started tracing small circles on the expanse of his back. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you for a moment. Bradley was the one to break it as he shifted, pulling out of you.
“So, problem fixed?” He asked. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your side.
“I think so.” You responded while yawning. “But I would like to keep it fixed.” Bradley smiled as he stood up, taking the condom off and tying it. He leaned over, placing a kiss on your temple.
“Good, cause I don’t think I can give you up now. Plus, I think Twix would be mad if you stopped coming around.” He helped you stand, the both of you making your way to the bathroom. You sat on the toilet as he cleaned himself with a wet washcloth, leaving it sitting in the sink when he was finished. Twix mingled in between your feet, meowing at the both of you. You gave him a small scratch on the head before leaving the bathroom. You went back to Bradley’s bedroom, crawling into the bed and under the covers. Bradley followed shortly afterwards, cuddling you from behind.
The next thing you knew you were waking up, a heavy weight on your chest. You looked up to find a cat on you, Twix specifically. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you and Bradley must have. Which made you look over, seeing your neighbor in bed next to you. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open as he slept. A warmth spread in you, knowing that all your problems were fixed.
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thebirdandthebee · 1 year
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Aw Honey Honey (18+)
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A Jake “Hangman” Seresin one-shot based on the above prompt + “Does he not know that we’re together?” This is unedited and a little corny, but I think it turned out cute! Smut and fluff ahead! 18+ only. If you enjoyed it, please don't keep it to yourself :)
Title: Aw Honey Honey Jake Seresin isn’t sharing his Sugar. WC: 3085
To some people you were the cute girl who worked in the corporate office of community engagement on base at Miramar. To others, you were Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin’s very serious, long-term girlfriend.
While you weren’t enlisted, you felt spoiled that you had an office on base, but weren’t tethered to quite the same rules and restrictions that your boyfriend, or his group of friends were obligated to abide by. Sure, you didn’t have free reign, but you often used your office as a hideout for your friends and colleagues during the day when they needed a place to relax for a few minutes.
Of course, there was work to do as well. You were in the thick of scheduling sailors and aviators alike to visit classrooms at elementary schools next week for Read Across America Day. Everyone got a class to visit from kindergarten through fifth grade, would read a Dr. Seuss book out loud, and then left a copy for each child to take home. It was one of your favorite days of the year.
“Knock, knock,” looking up from your computer, you saw Dean ‘Hooper’ Lennox, one of the newest aviators to join the elite fighter weapons school – or Top Gun.
“Hi Dean,” you smiled warmly, gesturing to the open seat across from you desk. “How ya doin’?”
“I’m good, how are you?” He asked, forgoing the chair and leaning against your desk.
“Happy it’s Friday,” you replied, leaning back in your chair and crossing one leg over the other, missing the way he glanced at your bare legs.
“Big plans this weekend?” he asked, reaching over flicking this finger across the top of your pen cup.
“I think some friends and I will hit The Hard Deck tonight,” you replied, opening up a desk drawer to pull out a Milky Way, breaking it in half and handing the other over to him. He grinned as he dropped it into his mouth as you enjoyed your treat as well.
“I’m sure we’ll end up there, too,” he added, eyes zeroing in on a thread of caramel on the corner of your mouth. “Maybe I can buy you a drink,” he reached down, running his thumb over your soft skin. You blushed with embarrassment; you must have looked ridiculous with candy on your face.
“Never say no to a free drink,” you laughed.
“Hey there,” you looked around Dean’s body to see Natasha’s head in your doorway.
“Hi Phee,” you grinned, “we’re having a candy break,” you explained.
“Love some sugar, huh Hooper?” Phoenix asked, “I think Rooster’s looking for you,” she added.
“See ya tonight,” Dean smiled, giving you a wink before disappearing from your office. Phoenix dropped into the chair opposite your desk.
“Milky Way or 100 Grand?” You asked, opening up your drawer.
“You know I want the Milky Way,” Phoenix replied with a flat look, opening her hand palm-up. You tossed one her way and she easily caught it, tearing it open. “Hooper visit you often?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah once and a while,” you shrugged.
“He always get right in your space like that?” She followed up.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged.
“I miss candy hour?” Jake asked, standing in the open door way.
“Hi babe,” you greeted, “candy hour is just starting,” you insisted, opening your drawer once again and fishing out a Baby Ruth bar.
“Thanks Sugar,” Jake said, walking over and kissing your cheek gently as he took the treat from you.
“You just missed Hooper,” Phoenix announced, giving her teammate a pointed look.
“Big loss,” Jake commented, not having a particular taste for the newbie.
“Yeah, he was getting some sugar from your Sugar,” Natasha added. You rolled your eyes with a laugh. Jake whipped around to look back at you, taking a bite out of his candy bar.
“Does he not know that we’re together?” He asked, his green eyes looking rather focused.
“Well it’s not like I introduce myself as Jake Seresin’s girlfriend,” you laughed, flipping your laptop back open.
“Well you could,” Jake said as if it was the obvious thing in the world.
“Phee, back me up here,” you said, looking for some female solidarity. Phoenix shrugged, planting her feet back on the ground and standing up.
“I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you,” Phoenix said, “but I’ve got reports to file, so that’s my cue – see you all tonight.”
“Bye Phee,” you sighed, looking back up at Jake whose gaze had really focused back on you.
“Why does Phoenix think Hooper wants to fuck you?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Baby, he came in here to get some candy and asked me if I had any weekend plans,” you said plainly, standing up from your desk, “Phoenix is being ridiculous – besides, what do I care what Dean thinks?” You wound your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest. “I’ve got you,” You smiled, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
Jake gave in, draping his arms down over your shoulders and hugging you against him.
“Is it the weekend yet?” He asked, lacing his hand up into your hair, giving it a gentle tug.
“Tonight will be fun,” you insisted. “But for now, back to work, Hangman,” you laughed, landing an open palm on his ass.
“I’m reporting you,” Jake frowned, leaning down to press a hot kiss to your mouth, “see you at home.” He gave your hair one more little tug before disappearing. Dropping back down to your desk, you glanced at the clock. The workday couldn’t end soon enough.
You beat Jake home that afternoon, immediately changing out of your work clothes and into a pair of Jake’s shorts and a tank top. You were throwing together a cheese quesadilla in the kitchen when you heard the front door open again.
“Sugar?” He called out, “where ya hidin’ baby?” he wandered into the kitchen, already unbuttoning his khaki shirt.
“Hi handsome,” you grinned, greeting him with a kiss. “Want a lil snack?” you asked, brandishing your spatula in the air.
“I got a lil snack right here,” he said, chasing your lips with a kiss.
“What time are we meeting everyone?” You asked, “do we have time for a quick shower?”
“Sugar, you know we always have time for a shower,” Jake grinned.
“Split this with me,” you commanded, transferring the quesadilla to a plate, the cheese gooey and hot. Carefully cutting it in half, Jake gladly let you feed him bite by bite.
“How about we go away next weekend?” Jake said, gladly chowing down on the snack you made.
“Where do you want to go, babe?” You reached up, swiping at the corner of Jake’s mouth with a napkin.
“Go up the coast, stay in Malibu for a couple days,” he said, “get a little tan.”
“I’m in,” you nodded. “Love seeing you in those little euro swim trunks,” you winked. Jake scoffed with a shake of his head, tossing his plate in the sink and taking your last bite.
“You have ten seconds to strip and get in the shower,” he pointed to the bathroom down the hall. When Jake meant business, he meant business, so you skedaddled through the house, losing your shorts and top along the way. He’d grab them anyway, Jake Seresin was an unbearable clean freak.
You’d just stepped into the stream of water when you felt Jake’s hands on your waist, shortly followed by his breath in our ear.
“Hi Sugar,” he whispered, holding back the shower curtain as he stepped in.
“Hi Jake,” you grinned, turning to face him, the hot water beating down on your back.
“You been a good girl today?” He asked, pushing your hair back from your face.
“Always are,” you insisted, giving him those big doe eyes he always loved.
“Don’t like you being sweet to Hooper,” He said, walking you back to press you against the shower wall. The tile was cold and he welcomed your arched gasp, pressing your body against his hips-first.
“Can’t help being nice, babe, it’s my nature,” you reminded, “seem to recall when you enjoyed me being so sweet to you.” You’d met Jake two years ago around this time, when he came barreling into your office about a community event, asking a favor for support, when he stuck around for some homemade caramels.
“Your sugar is just for me,” he said, fingers trailing down your stomach to your sex, swiping two fingers through your wet folds before bringing them up to his mouth. “My favorite,” he complimented. “Let’s see if you’re sweet everywhere.”
Your hands found purchase in his blonde hair as his lips traveled from your lips to your jaw to your neck. Sucking gently, you gasped as his teeth grazed your delicate skin.
It was all you could do to run your hands up and down his sculpted back, water cascascading across his muscles as he traveled around your neck and collarbone.
“Jake,” you whined gently, impatience thick in your throat.
“Come on, honey girl,” he hoisted you up, hands planted firmly on your ass as he forced your legs around his waist. When he slid his cock home, you sighed with relief. “There you are,” he huffed into your ear, “there’s my sweet girl,” he could feel his lungs expand in his chest.
“I gotta shampoo,” you reminded, eyes going cross for a moment as he stroked up into you. “Are you seriously thinking about shampoo right now?” Jake asked.
“No, baby,” you giggled at his affronted tone, but gasped as he doubled his efforts, hitting just the right spot inside of you relentlessly. “Jake,” you moaned.
“That’s better,” he grit out, legs shaking beneath him. He liked to think he was in fairly good shape, but the way your sex clenched around him had Jake second-guessing himself. “God you feel incredible, Sugar,” his brows knit in concentration.
Acclimated to the temperature of the tile against your back, you returned your hands to his hair, soothing the lines of his forehead from pure concentration.
“Fucking me so good,” you encouraged, head tilting back against the wall. “Always fuck me so good,” your hand gripped the back of Jake’s neck, fingertips stroking the fine hair there.
“Come on baby, give me that sugar,” he grunted, fingers returning to your clit, making you jump. Jake knew your body better than you, and he could tell, as your right heel dug into his lower back, that you were close. He pressed his forehead into your neck as he came, hips stuttering erratically, mindful to fuck you through his orgasm. With shaking hands, he swirled around your clit just right, shouting as you came, squeezing him in a way that caused black spots in his vision.
Jake, on unsteady legs, gently set you down, the shower filled with billows of steam.
Lazily looping your arms around his neck, he kissed you slowly, savoring the taste of your mouth.
“Lemme shampoo you,” you whispered, making him honk out a loud laugh.
“I swear you love your shampoo more than me,” He said, pressing a firm kiss to your lips.
“Baby, not more than you,” you murmured, “just as much.” A loud squeal ripped from your mouth as he slapped your ass.
Twenty minutes later, you were throwing a summery strapless maxi dress on, tying your hair back into a low bun.
“Babe?” You called for Jake, who was grabbing fresh clothes from the laundry room. He dutifully stepped into the bedroom, taking your necklace and clasping it around your neck wordlessly – a habit he was all too accustomed to. Appearing in the bathroom mirror, you frowned as you saw how red and splotchy your skin was from Jake’s ministrations, but applied minimal makeup nonetheless.
“Your boobs look good,” he commented, stepping behind you, hands cupping your breasts over your dress.
“Jake,” you laughed, “get out of the way or I’m going to get perfume on you,” you warned. He gave your breasts a quick squeeze before heading down the hall.
You still had twenty minutes or so until you needed to leave, so you’d grabbed the mail and sorted through a few items before picking up the living room and packing your purse for the night.
Jake busied himself in the office before Coyote text him that they were leaving quarters to hit the bar.
“Sugar, time to leave,” he instructed, pulling you from your pile of newspaper coupons. He held your hand as you stepped into your shoes, bringing you a little closer to his height.
You rode alongside him in he car, leaning into his side with an arm over your shoulder. You were grateful for the weekend and the chance to unwind. Planning for the reading event had taken a lot out of you this week and you were ready for the chance to decompress.
Upon arriving at The Hard Deck, Jake grasped your hand, leading you inside. It was already packed for the night, Fridays being the most popular time, and Jake spotted Coyote over near one end of the bar with Harvard and Fritz.
“Oh, there’s Tasha – I’ll meet you,” you assured, rocking up to your toes to peck Jake’s lips. “Buy me a beer?” You asked, already crossing the bar. Jake shook his head with a smile, knowing he’d get you anything you asked for.
“What the hell happened to you?” Natasha asked as a greeting. You looked back over you shoulder, wondering if she was talking to you.
“What?” You asked, brows furrowed, “me?”
“You look like you got fucking mauled,” she laughed sardonically, eyeing you up. Looking down, you could see the faintest yellow mark just below your collarbone. Grabbing Natasha’s phone, you flipped the camera to selfie-mode. Over the last half an hour, your red splotches had developed into yellow-green bruises all of your neck and collarbone. “What the fuck?” you laughed, rolling your eyes, “Jake.” You supplied as an answer. “It’s your fault actually,” you said pointedly, angling your body away from the bar.
“My fault?” Natasha asked, eyes wide.
“Yes! Jake got all in my business after you told him Hooper wants to fuck me,” you gave her a meaningful look.
“Well Hooper does want to fuck you,” she said plainly. “Here,” she grabbed her jean jacket off the high top next to her. “This will piss Jake off,” she grinned.
“I don’t really care what he thinks, I just look ridiculous,” you shrugged it on – letting it rest on your shoulders without looping your arms through the sleeves.
You and Natasha caught up for a bit longer, you leaning an elbow against the countertop.
After a good fifteen minutes, you noticed Hooper approaching from over Natasha’s shoulder, and you stood a little straighter.
“No drink in your hand?” He asked with a wide smile.
“Oh, her friend is getting her one,” Natasha smiled knowingly.
“Sure I can’t buy you one? I did offer,” he said, giving her a smile like butter wouldn’t melt. Maybe he was flirting with her after all.
“You’re sweet, but I’m all set,” you reassured.
“Can’t wait for the Read Across America event next week,” he said excitedly, a genuine smile reflecting in those blue eyes. You weren’t blind – Hooper was an attractive man - ocean eyes, fluffy dark brown hair and a chin cleft that harkened back to old Hollywood. He just wasn’t your Jake.
“Yeah, you been practicing your ABCs?” Natasha asked snarkily. You tossed her a look that screamed be nice!
“I’m glad! Not everyone jumps at the chance to entertain a class of 20 six-year olds,” you smiled.
“I’ve got a big family, lots of siblings – I also volunteer as Big Brother out of the San Diego chapter of Big Brothers Big Sisters,” he elaborated, watching the smile on your face grow.
“Yeah, you read to orphans, too?” Natasha asked, sipping her beer. You caught her eye, just to see her expression change and a feline grin take over her face.
“Hi there,” you could spot Jake’s voice anywhere. “Brought your favorite,” he said, setting a summer shandy down on the counter next to your elbow.
“Thanks Jake,” you smiled. “Dean was just telling us about how he volunteers at Big Brothers Big Sisters, isn’t that just the sweetest?” You asked, looking up and over your shoulder at him.
“The sweetest,” Jake grinned that cocky smirk that made you wonder what he was going to do next. “Sugar are you not sweatin’ in here with that jacket on?” He asked, gingerly taking the shoulder seams in his hands and dragging it off of your body, folding it in half and tossing it over the same chair it originally laid across.
There was no missing Hooper’s expression as he eyed up the gallery of color across your neck and décolletage.  
“Yeah, I um –” He watched, clearing his throat as Jake snaked his arms around your waist from behind, dropping a kiss down on your bare shoulder. “Started back at my old chapter in Kansas City, but transferred here… when I moved.” He finished lamely.
“That’s so kind of you, I wish I could do more philanthropically, but I get to fill that cup through work, so it’s a big bonus,” you smiled, Jake’s body pressed so tightly up against your back, there wasn’t room for even a piece of paper to slip between you. Natasha’s grin was downright wicked from behind the rim of her glass, the glint in her eyes absolutely entertained.
“She’s a real sweet girl,” Jake commented. “Sugar sweet,” he finished, squeezing your waist in hand.
“I think Tanker and Mad Dog are starting up a game of pool,” he said, eyes darting all around – “I’ll see you guys later, have a great night.” He practically left a cloud of smoke in his wake.
“Jacob Seresin,” you scolded, turning in your boyfriend’s grip. Natasha burst into laughter.
“Yes?” He asked, tipping his chin up to look down at you, that same cocky smirk on his face.
“You’re unbelievable you know that?” You asked.
“Better believe it,” he grinned.
“And what is all this?” You gestured to your colorful skin.
“I think it turned out quite well, wouldn’t you agree, Phoenix?” He asked.
“You’re a real piece of work, Bagman,” she shook her head, but smiled nonetheless.
“What am I going to do with you, huh?” You asked, leaning forward.
“You can start by giving me some sugar.”
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Aw Honey Honey, you might also like Mighty Fine!
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sugarcoated-lame · 8 months
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Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Single Dad!Bradley x Reader
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Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog
*all my works are 18+, minors DNI
Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.
WC: 3.6K
Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning
a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3
• • •
Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?” 
He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she…?” 
He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.
- - - 
Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.
He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.
The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.
“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.
He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.
Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.
The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.
The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town. 
They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.
When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.
A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.
Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.
Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be. 
She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.
Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment. 
He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.  
 - - - 
Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.
Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.  
“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.
When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.
He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.
Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter. 
He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.
Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her? 
It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.
- - -
You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her. 
A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone. 
Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.
You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”
The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head. 
You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.
Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.
“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.
“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.
She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion.  “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”
The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”
Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.
“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”
You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.
“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”
Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.
“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly. 
You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.
“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”
She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.
She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.
Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.  
“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.
The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute. 
Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.
- - -
Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”
He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand. 
When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.
“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”
He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.
“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!” 
It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.
Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful. 
Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.
Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.
“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m…” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?
“…Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”
His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.  
“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.
“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.  
For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.
Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes. 
His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.
“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”
You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.
Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.
“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat. 
“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.
“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.
“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.
“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”
You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.
“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.
“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.
“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.
Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.
Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you…sure?”
You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.” 
You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.
Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.
Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.
The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.
“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?” 
You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.
“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.” 
You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk. 
Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them. 
Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.
The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you. 
After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.
He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.
That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority. 
Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that. 
But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.
With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either. 
As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.
“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”
Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”
Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.
You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.
For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks. 
He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.
You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them. 
When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.
“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.
Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon. 
- - -
Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x
Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3
UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❤️
tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock
also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller
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honeyhenry · 1 year
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Apple Pie and You and I
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A little story of the Seresins aka Hangman being a softie for his girl. Fluff, no warnings, please enjoy!
Jake Seresin, a lone star state boy through and though, always found himself feeling closer to home with a warm apple pie and a country song playing with a gentle thrum on his Pop’s old record player in the room next door.
The only time he felt closer to a sense of home was with you - his lovely lady who had managed to lure and capture the Hangman hook line and sinker by batting her pretty lashes and making him work hard for her attention. It had taken him 3 weeks of smirks that turned to smiles, and insistence that turned into nothing shy of begging, for you to agree to a date. The only holding back he’d done was in omitting to state the thought that had urged him to act in the first place; “Oh, she's gonna be my wife someday.”
The typically cocksure brazen pilot hadn’t the need to utter those words for another 14 months, past the utterly exclusive dating period, nor in between months of loved up sweetness and the pained inevitability of month-long deployments. He’d told you the very moment after his 1 month deployment - which had extended into 7 and a half weeks - of a monogamous routine, where a few pictures and fond memories were just not cutting it any more.
The tarmac had scratched the khaki material of his bags as he'd dropped them with a heavy thud to the ground, only eager to reach your arms sooner. Your little sundress catching in the soft wind, the warmth of the sun heating your cheeks and nose as he engulfs you in his arms, holding tight before he'd pulled his head away to take a proper long look at your pretty face - and then brought your lips to his. He'd kissed you over and over and over, the smile on his face growing every time, your eyes clear and watering, having waited for this moment.
And quietly, once the decision was made to catch your breaths, he'd whispered, lips ghosting over yours, that you were it for him. That he was going to marry you.
According to the Navy, Hangman had no one at home, no next of kin unless you provided the contacts of his parents down in their ranch a few states away should there ever be the need for the passing over of belongings and dog tags to fatefully occur. But Jake Seresin? He had a whole life to get back to; one he needed to kick start with a ring and a question.
The ring itself would be an heirloom, no doubt about it, and had required a trip back to Texas to see his family and share with them his upcoming plans. Having met you a handful of times over Christmas and on big family birthdays, the Seresins were entirely on board. Jake's Momma had given him a close hug with tears in her eyes while his Dad and siblings cheered and grinned the classic Seresin smile. Their family often grew each year, but his Momma and Grammie had worried that their headstrong, flirtatious boy would get too caught up in the ways of the world to settle down. He was a softie at heart, and you had been the best thing to ever happen to him.
They adored you. Enough for Grammie to take her grandson into her study, and open the jewellery box safely nestled inside a locked cupboard door. "This one is a diamond", she'd said as she'd taken out a piece." It's been in the family since before I was born. It's even got the family name engraved inside." Jake had taken it, listening respectfully to his Grammie but still lost in the thought of how the ring would look so beautiful on your finger. Thinking of you being his, forever.
That had been 18 months ago now, and the glinting stone on your ring finger, alongside a shiny golden wedding band, showing that all had gone to plan. Hangman proudly wears his ring too, occasionally looping it around his dog tags if need be. However currently, in the Lone Star state, the dog tags are off and his ring fits snugly on his fourth finger as he holds you close.
It's campfire night at the ranch, and you sit on his lap, curled in and admiring the way his face has caught the sun, inspecting every detail of him in the glow of the fire he had helped to start. He looks between his family; uncles, cousins, grandparents, now and then but his main focus is always you. Your hands clasp his left one as he uses the other to nurse a beer after working up a sweat teaching his youngest nephews to play football earlier that day. It had been so endearing to watch as you'd prepared the barbecue and baked fresh cookies using the special Seresin recipe, with his Momma and sisters.
"I got the recipe from your Mom, for the cookies, so we can have them at home." You'd whispered sweetly as the chatter around the fire continued. "Do you know", Jake murmured, looking deep into your eyes as his green ones pierced into your soul. "Do you know how much I love you?"
Your giggle had been soft and the eye roll that followed made Jake smirk lovingly. Still in awe of how he got the girl that barely spoke to him but was still batting her lashes and playing hard to get. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the point just above where your rings lay on your finger.
"The kids'll love 'em. You're gonna be a great Mom." He stops smirking and now looks at you, fully focused with a soft, genuine smile. Placing the beer down, he rests his hand on your stomach, underneath the sweatshirt of his you've borrowed that splashes the words University of Texas, Austin on the front. It's old and thinning out but it smells of Jake, so it's something you will happily bask in and nap in and snuggle in until you have to leave his family home once more.
"Shhhh. I already think Grammie knows", you scold him. And she does. Grammie knows and as his Momma watches the two of you interact now, she's certain that she knows too. Call it a Mother's instinct. Jake's little check-ins throughout the day had not gone unnoticed, nor had your daily naps that you blamed on the heat, despite it only being the middle of May.
"But Grammie knows everything, a few more days and I can finally tell 'em all. Been dyin' to sweetheart." His hand rubs your stomach gently, not to raise suspicion but also to comfort you. Sure, as the cookies and apple pie were brought out, he had felt a little nostalgia, but with you in his lap wearing his ring, and his baby in your belly, Jake Seresin had never felt more at home than in that moment.
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hangman request incoming ‼️‼️
so the reader is best friends w rooster and whenever she’s around hangman he’s always quite rude to her, only bc he’s harbouring huge feelings for her which he isn’t very used to. then maybe he goes too far and rooster needs to talk some sense into him (reader could be a pilot or just a close friend of rooster’s)
SORRY i’m not great and giving requests but i hope there’s something in there that you like !
Ahhhh I LOVE this request!! And I really loved writing this piece, which may or may not turn into a series.. oops I couldn't resist haha
Less Talk | Part I
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.
CW: mild angst, Hangman being a dick aka Hangman being himself, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, drinking
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“Do you ever not have an opinion?” Jake watches you irritably before taking a long swig of his drink. He needs the alcohol to calm his nerves so that he doesn’t inadvertently push you off your chair.
You glare at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A nice, safe space for Seresin to dominate the conversation without opposition.”
Jake lets out a steady breath. No one riles him quite like you do. “We’re talking about food, Y/N. It doesn’t exactly have global ramifications.”
“Actually, it does,” you respond matter-of-factly. “And are you saying I shouldn’t have an opinion unless it is ground-breaking in nature? Maybe I should just sit here quietly and look pretty.”
“Ha!” Jake cackles. “I would love to see you try.”
“Hangman!” Bradley, who’s sitting to your right, gives him a disapproving look.
You make a grimace. “I will never give you that kind of satisfaction.”
Jake meets your gaze with a hostile look. The thought of you satisfying him in any way sort of disorients him. He makes a face at you because he can’t deny that if you were to just sit there in silence, you would be exceptionally pleasant to look at. Pretty, even… maybe. Instead, he says, “How the fuck does eating avocado toast for lunch have global implications? I would love to know.”
“The recent surge in consumption of avocados - thanks to health nuts such as yourself - has led to an unprecedented increase in price to the point where those people whose culinary staple for generations has been the avocado cannot afford to keep it their diet.” You fold your arms over your chest to drive your point home while Jake just stares at you, speechless. No other woman in the world has ever rendered him that. He glances over at Bradley who is looking back at him with a slight grin. Just when Jake thinks you might be all talked out, you add, “And don’t even get me started on the environmental burden of growing enough avocados to sustain the whole of North America’s health culture.”
Jake blinks at you. “Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it.”
“The avocado trade is contributing to local violence and extortion” – you continue, but Jake cuts you off.
“Okay, okay!” he says. “I’ll never eat an avocado again.”
“Just quit spreading your avocado propaganda!”
“It’s not propaganda! They’re actually good for you!”
“How wonderful it must be living in a world where your needs come before everybody else’s,” you say bitterly.
“Can we please talk about something other than avocados?” he says tiredly, his eyes sliding to Bradley in a plea for assistance.
“If you’re looking for a topic on which I do not have an opinion” – you say, but Jake interrupts you again.
“Does such a topic exist?” he asks flatly.
You roll your eyes at him. “Did you ever think that maybe you’re the one who should talk less?”
Jake nods. “Certainly. I should talk less to you. Because you’re driving me crazy, lady.” He stands up after having downed the rest of his drink. “I’m getting another beer and, when I return, I’m going to have a conversation with my good friend here, Rooster.”
Bradley shakes his head and looks over at you. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a bitter, bitter man.”
“A bitter man who needs to be schooled on occasion,” you mutter.
Jake turns to look at you with wide eyes. He slides back into his seat. “I heard that,” he says dangerously, inclining into the table.
“Good,” you respond, leaning forward so that your noses are nearly touching. “You were meant to.”
“You are so fucking annoying,” he whispers, his eyes slipping momentarily to your mouth as you lick your lips.
“Hangman, come on, don’t be a dick,” Bradley says, also putting his weight into the table in an attempt to intervene.
Jake’s eyes are still scanning your face as you glare at him without moving away. The truth is, he could probably listen to you talk about the problematic export of Mexican avocados for hours just to watch your mouth move and to hear the passion in your voice. But he’s tired of the tunnel vision he experiences every time your boyfriend ditches you and you end up going out with your best friend, Bradley Bradshaw. This is the fifth time this month that you’ve accompanied Rooster to ‘guys’ night out’ and it’s becoming more and more difficult for Jake to shake you after each successive evening of relentless verbal sparring.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jake can see Bradley slowly inching off the table, having realized that he may be a third wheel. But Jake doesn’t need him to be some sort of wingman in this bizarre scenario where he may or may not be completely in love with an unavailable woman who happens to be an expert at pushing all his goddamn buttons. Normally, he would remedy this kind of matter with a good old romp in the hay but, considering the fact that you are in a relationship, this option is, unfortunately, off the table. Besides, he’s not entirely sure it wouldn’t have the opposite effect on him, anyway.
But, despite all the reasons for avoiding your pull, Jake can’t look away, not even for a second; not even to get another beer. He moves his face a millimeter closer to yours, just to see what would happen; not because your breath smells like Peach Schnapps and not because your eyes are absolutely destabilizing him. His nose is about a split second away from brushing yours when your phone buzzes on the table. You flinch, withdrawing immediately, leaving Jake to watch you try to frantically pick it up. You shoot him one last intimidating look before rising from the table.
“Hey, babe,” he hears you say as you walk away.
“What’s your deal, man?” Bradley says as Jake watches you step outside.
Jake shakes his head solemnly. “Doesn’t she have other friends to play with?” he asks. “Why’re you always babysitting her?”
Bradley fixes Jake with a knowing look. “Hangman,” he says with a suggestive squint to his eye. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Jake stares at Bradley. “Yeah,” he says. “I want to tell you that your bestie is a pain in the ass, Rooster.”
Bradley’s jaw hardens. “You’re way out of line.”
“Come on, I can’t be the only one who finds her absolutely infuriating. The girl never shuts up!”
Bradley narrows his eyes. “And you don’t, at all, find that sort of thing attractive?” he says sarcastically.
“Attractive? I find it immensely aggravating, actually.”
“So aggravating that you argue right back every time,” Bradley points out with a smirk. “Movies, books, social constructs. Last week, I heard you guys bickering about space waste. What do you even know about space?”
“What does she know about space?” Jake responds angrily, pointing toward the door with his entire arm.
Bradley leans back in his seat with a sigh. “I know that you don’t actually hate her, Jake,” he says. “You can stop pretending.”
“Who’s pretending?” Jake looks up at him aggressively.
Bradley purses his lips. “What if I told you that her boyfriend is a shithead?”
Jake’s jaw tightens but he continues to stare at Bradley coldly. “Why the fuck would I care?” he says.
Bradley returns his callous expression before looking away. “Been trying to get her out of that relationship for months.”
Jake lets out a sigh. “She’s a grown-ass woman, she can decide for herself if she wants to end it.”
Bradley nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Jake rises from his seat, his eyes unintentionally drifting up to check if you’re still outside. He sees you pacing back and forth through the big window of the bar. You look like you’re arguing. Big surprise. “Want another beer?” he asks Bradley.
“Please,” Bradley says.
Jake nods at the cocktail you’ve been drinking. “She going to have another one?”
Bradley shrugs. “Probably, unless you’ve pissed her off enough that she decides to leave early.”
Jake scoffs. “She’d be doing me a favor.”
Bradley shakes his head with a laugh. “I don’t even know what she’s drinking, man.”
Jake shifts his jaw. “I do.”
Bradley gives him another piercing look. “Shocking,” he says with a smirk.
“Shut the fuck up, Bradshaw,” Jake says under his breath as he walks away. He glances back at the window behind which you’re now waving your arm around aggressively and yelling into the phone. He tears his gaze away from you, frustrated with himself for even giving a damn.
For some reason, he feels a painful pang in his chest, like he’s jealous of whomever it is you’re tearing into. You’ve never gone off on him quite like that and he can’t help the resentment this fosters. He tries to suppress the impulse to go out after you and rip your stupid phone right out of your hand. That would surely reclaim at least a fraction of your attention. Then maybe he could do something unexpected; something that might persuade you to channel your passion in a more constructive way.
He orders three drinks and walks back to the table with the beers before going back for your cocktail. When he returns, he exhales sharply, giving Bradley a humorless look. “Why’s her boyfriend a shithead?” he says, feeling his hands forming into fists before Bradley even has a chance to respond.
But, right when Bradley’s about to speak, you walk back into the bar.
Read Part 2
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this piece! It's my first Hangman story, so let me know what you think!
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leascorner · 25 days
Text
j.s. | Welcome home
Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.
Pairing:  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending
Word Count: 9.2k
A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.
Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!
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Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.
Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.
“Jake!”
The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.
“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.
Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.
He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.
“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”
“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.
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Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.
During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.
Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.
It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.
“I am sorry about you and Nick.”
Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.
“You can lie better than that, Jake.”
“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”
It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.
“Was it him-”
“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”
Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.
So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.
“I do am sorry, though.”
“I know.”
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It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.
The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.
Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.
“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”
And nothing in the house had changed either.
The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…
The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.
Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.
“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”
Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.
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“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”
Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.
It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.
“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.
This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”
She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.
Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.
“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.
“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.
When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.
He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.
“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.
“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”
“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”
Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.
It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.
“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”
Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.
“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.
“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”
Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.
“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”
After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.
The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.
“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”
Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.
Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.
Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…
Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.
“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”
“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.
Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.
Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.
So far, the lunch had turned out great.
Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.
At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.
“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”
“No, not really.”
Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.
Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.
“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.
Boom.
The bomb had landed.
Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.
From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.
“You knew?”
Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.
Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…
“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.
“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”
Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.
Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.
She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.
“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?
“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.
“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”
Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.
Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.
“How can anybody be cool with this?”
Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?
“That’s not the same thing.”
Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.
It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.
“You’re being unfair.”
“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”
“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”
“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”
The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.
Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”
“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.
“Welcome home, Jake.”
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Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.
Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.
She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.
Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.
It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.
So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.
Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.
Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.
He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.
Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.
Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.
When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.
She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.
Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.
He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.
“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”
She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.
“How would you know?”
“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”
This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”
“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”
Y/N snorted.
Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.
For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.
“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”
If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?
“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.
Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.
“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”
“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.
“I don’t believe you.”
Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.
She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.
She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.
“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.
She was the one breaking his.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.
How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.
Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.
He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.
“Why are you really here, Jake?”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”
They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.
Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.
“Goodbye, Jake.”
And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.
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Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?
Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?
Javy: Almost.
Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.
Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.
Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.
Javy: You should talk to him.
Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.
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Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.
In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.
More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.
After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.
When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.
“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.
Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.
In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.
That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.
“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.
“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.
“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”
Jake only nodded.
The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.
Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.
He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.
He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.
The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.
They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.
If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.
He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…
After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.
Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.
After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.
“Can we not?”
“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”
“Y/N, please.”
She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.
“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”
Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.
“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”
Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.
“Jake,” she sighed.
“I-”
His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.
He couldn’t lose her.
“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”
Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.
“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”
Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.
“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.
Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.
“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”
“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”
“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”
Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.
“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.
Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.
If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.
“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.
“I know.”
Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.
At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.
“Well, kiss me then.”
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