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#top gun one shot
punishereditz · 3 days
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Jake "Hangman" Seresin Masterlist
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7 Years (Fluff)
It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday (Fluff)
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Chores (Smut)
Bet (Smut)
Play Me Something (Smut)
Go On (Smut)
Cherry Bomb (Smut)
Falling Apart (Smut)
Under The Table (Smut)
Before Bed (Smut)
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say-al0e · 1 year
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Just Friends
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Rating: M | This is smut, minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: Everyone seems to think you’re Jake Seresin’s girl. It’s easier than explaining to them that you’re just friends with benefits. But that arrangement doesn’t seem to be working for either of you anymore. | Ft. “No, you idiot. I’m in love with you.” + “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” requested by anonymous and “You matter to me, you asshole.” + “I think you were put on this earth for the sole purpose of being a pain my ass.” requested by @dreamlandcreations
Warnings: Miscommunication, idiots FWB to lovers, fear of unrequited feelings, jealous!Jake, therapist Bradley, unprotected PinV. (I think that’s it but let me know and I’ll tag anything else)
Pairing: Hangman x fem!Reader
Word Count: 9.3k (....sorry)
Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist
The Hard Deck was, as it always seemed to be on Friday nights, packed to the rafters. A sea of khaki greeted you the moment you stepped inside with Jake following close behind but, for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t dressed to match. Instead, he’d opted for a pair of jeans, a button-down you’d stolen on more than one occasion, and boots that had seen better days - though he had to be talked out of the cowboy hat, less to protect him from ridicule and more to protect your sanity. However, he still managed to blend into the crowd as you weaved your way through to the bar.
Jake remained close, as he always did, and kept a hand on the small of your back as he nodded his greeting to the handful of familiar faces he came across. The heat from his body bled through the thin material of his shirt - he always seemed to run hotter than the average, warm to the touch on even the coldest of days - and you could feel it warming your skin as he took a half-step closer to allow someone to pass.
Only one stool remained at the bar, the others occupied with the beginning of the night’s rush, and Jake pulled it out for you with a wink and a grin when you squeezed his bicep in thanks.
“Are there more people than usual or have I just not been in in a while?”
The question went unheard by those sitting closest to you, drowned out by the noise of a group cheering in the corner, but he heard you clearly. He leaned in, breath fanning over your neck - the scent of mint gum and that woodsy cologne filling your nose, sending a shiver down your spine that you worked to repress lest he notice - as he laughed quietly. “See, sweets, this is what happens when you avoid going out with me,” he teased, grinning when you rolled your eyes.
Avoiding Jake Seresin was the last thing on your mind. If anything, you’d gotten into a bad habit of altering plans just to spend more time with him and he knew that. Still, you huffed petulantly and shifted to lean against the bar. “If you want to blame anyone, blame my boss.”
Jake waved a hand, teasing, dismissive, and shook his head as he met your gaze. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, dancing across the sharp planes of his face, and you forced yourself to draw in even breaths even as you felt your heart rate skyrocket. “Excuses, excuses,” he drawled, biting back a laugh when you rolled your eyes at him, now second nature, regardless of how difficult it still was to think with his full attention on you. “But I’ll let you have it. Tonight, anyway.”
“How generous of you, Hangman.” It was deadpan, a stoic jab he’d heard a thousand times over, but you couldn’t help yourself as you raised a teasing brow. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a damn saint?”
Another laugh, this one a little louder and drawing the attention of a handful of nearby service members, escaped Jake as he shifted his hand to squeeze your side. The heat of his palm bled through the thin material of your top, sank into your skin and branded his touch into your memory, but you refused to dwell as you focused on his reply. “What can I say, sugar? I’m a giver.”
Despite his reputation - narcissistic, selfish asshole - Jake was, indeed, a giver. He prided himself on giving just as good as he got, if not better, and you were grateful to be on the receiving end. Still, the innuendo made your face heat and had you glancing over your shoulder, just to see if anyone had heard.
With another roll of your eyes, you nudged his side but said nothing. There were moments Jake flustered you silent, struck you quiet with a quick retort, and the thought of his selflessness - in the form of that handsome face pressed between your thighs - had you ducking your head as Jake laughed. He shifted closer, trying to move out of the way, and you sighed quietly as you spared a glance around the bar.
There was no question what you and Jake looked like to anyone who glanced your way - to the table of women who’d clocked Jake the moment he stepped through the door, the group clad in flight suits who’d eyed you as you crossed the room - or anyone who overheard a snippet of your conversation.
The protective hand he kept on you, snug at the small of your back; the way he lingered at your side, body angled toward you, rather than toward the crowd; the way he tipped his head down, pressing himself even closer in an effort to hear you over the din of the bar - the implication was clear. You looked like any other couple, out for a night of drinks with friends, and you only wished it were that simple.
Nothing ever was, especially not when it came to Jake, so you refused to allow yourself to dwell on that thought. You’d resigned yourself to your fate - doomed to be little more than friends with benefits, comfortable with casual intimacy until you began to consider your feelings - and figured Jake didn’t give your situation any thought at all.
Pulling you out of your distraction, Jake nudged your side and tipped his head toward the pool tables in the corner.
Spotting the rest of the group was always easy - they rarely strayed far from the pool tables by the windows, usually busying themselves with a game as they decompressed - and you returned their greetings with a grin and a wave of your own.
Penny, who was manning the bar alone for the time being, shot you both a smile as she placed the same bottle of beer Jake usually ordered on the counter in front of you. It would be a few minutes before she made her way to you, if the crowd was any indication, and you could feel Jake shifting at your side. 
This wasn’t the first time you’d accompanied him to the Hard Deck - you ended up by Jake’s side in the little bar more often than you cared to admit - and had a routine. “I’ll be fine, Jake,” you assured him, laughing as you caught him glancing at the pool table. You turned just in time to see Javy tip his head in invitation, urging Jake to join him in a game against another set of pilots, and nudged his side. “Go ahead. I’m gonna get a drink and people watch. I’ll make my way over eventually.”
Just as he always did, Jake eyed you for a moment, clearly debating being chivalrous. He would offer to remain by your side, wait with you for Penny to make your drink, and guide you over to the pool table to hang out with the others, but you always nudged him away.
When you cut your eyes at him, he relented. “Alright,” he acquiesced, lifting his hands in mock defeat, though he still managed to grin. “I’m going. You need me, you know where to find me.” When you nodded, acknowledging the same declaration he gave every time, he turned his attention to Penny. “Penny, m’dear, her drinks are on me.” She knew that by now - had been given the same instruction at least every other Friday for nearly a year - but still nodded, acknowledging Jake’s insistence.
With that, Jake nodded and squeezed your side gently before heading for the group.
From the bar, you were able to catch sight of the group as he approached and laughed as Rooster pointed at the boots Jake wore with raised brows. Through the din, you weren’t able to make out the comment but knowing the pair, you figured it was a dig at Jake’s fashion sense. True to your assumption, the pair began to trade good-natured jabs and you shook your head as you turned your attention elsewhere.
In the beginning, when Jake first invited you to join him at the Hard Deck - back when you could confidently tell the others that you were just friends, back when you believed that yourself - finding your place amongst the crowd seemed next to impossible.
The bar, once overwhelming and far too busy for someone used to less populated divers, was now familiar. Many of the faces were now ones you knew, ones you’d seen a dozen times over, and most of them would even greet you alongside Jake now. You often marveled at how quickly it seemed to become something akin to a home base, beloved and revered and a highlight of your week, but the thought never lasted longer than a moment. The Hard Deck was part of your life now, just as Jake was, and you weren’t one to question it.
Questions, in general, weren’t asked outright.
Though people stopped to speak with you occasionally, no one ever asked about your relationship status - no one outside of the group of friends Jake managed to make, anyway - and no one needed to. Just friends or not, it was clear to anyone who glanced your way that you were Jake Seresin’s girl.
Knowing that everyone saw you as Jake’s girl eased some of the weight pressing on your chest. It made it a little easier to breathe, made you feel a little more secure as you sat at the bar, but that feeling never lasted very long. It didn’t matter much what everyone else thought, not when you knew different. You weren’t his girl, not really, and that hurt more than you cared to admit.
The little moments, hallmarks of a relationship, were the ones that got you the most.
Jake had no problem placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you through the crowd or throwing an arm over your shoulders in a brief greeting when you joined him near the pool table, but that was as far as PDA went. 
Not being able to wander over to him, press a kiss to his shoulder, his jaw, the corner of his mouth as he stood with a pool cue and a beer in hand; not being able to warp your arms around his waist and lean fully into him, lose yourself in the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders or the feel of his hand in yours; not being able to love him in the way you so desperately wanted, eager to show him just how deeply you cared, made your chest ache in a way that was growing all too familiar.
It was growing all too difficult to keep up with the charade. Pretending that you were fine with the arrangement you made before you really got to know Jake - before you fell in love with him - seemed to be getting harder by the day but there wasn’t much you could say without losing him entirely. 
And when it came to Jake, you were used to being halfway happy.
There would come a time when halfway happy wasn’t enough, you knew that. But you hadn’t figured out how to live a life without him yet. The vast majority of your free time was spent with him - tucked into his sheets, his body between your thighs; lying on your couch, watching some shitty movie in one of his t-shirts as he lounged in sweats; sitting on the beach, sand covering your entire body and crashing of waves replacing the sound of his soft moans in your ears - and you knew that life without him would be an adjustment.
For now, however, you refused to dwell on what that might look like.
However, as hard as you tried to brush that thought away - the thought that one day, maybe soon, you’d be forced to live a life without Jake Seresin in it - it continued to plague you as you sat at the bar. The crowd shifted around you and you watched, eyes skimming the crowd but not truly seeing, as service members came and went.
The seat beside you had been empty for a while but you really only noticed when a new body filled the void to your right and knocked a knee into yours.
Bradley Bradshaw smiled at you, that soft half-smile he used when he wasn’t quite sure how to approach, before glancing at Penny and raising a hand for her to bring him another beer. When the bottle was placed in front of him, he turned back to you.
“Long time no see,” he began, smile growing a touch more real when you met his eyes. “Where’s Hangman been hiding you?”
A scoff, practiced and easy - hopefully enough to hide the dark cloud that had formed above your head - escaped before you took a sip from your now watered-down drink. “He wishes it was that easy to get rid of me,” you joked, smiling slightly when Bradley laughed. “I’ve just been busy. Work’s been kind of insane.”
Bradley hummed thoughtfully, considering your statement, before taking a sip of his beer. “Explains why Hangman’s been more annoying than usual lately.” The comment was teasing, a jab you’d heard more than once - most of the Dagger Squad claimed that Jake was more manageable with you around - but Bradley gave you no time to dismiss the thought as he continued, “Glad you were able to get out tonight, though.”
The group had been nothing but kind to you, welcoming in a way you hadn’t expected, and your smile grew a little wider as you nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed readily, “me, too.” Even if you’d driven yourself to distraction, thinking about what may never be, you were truly happy to be back at the Hard Deck. Still, you decided to shift the conversation to Bradley. “How’re you? I’ve heard this first class is… challenging.”
Jake didn’t speak of work often but he’d taken to venting some of his frustration with you, occasionally sharing his annoyance as you lounged in your living room, and you knew that their first class of Top Gun recruits was not the cakewalk they’d imagined. Bradley’s wince seemed to confirm Jake’s assessment.
“I know I wasn’t a saint when I was going through it,” he began, sparing a glance over his shoulder at a group of pilots in the corner, “but I don’t think I was ever that cocky.”
“I’m willing to bet Jake was.”
If the comment surprised Bradley, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he laughed and nodded his agreement easily. “Yeah, he was. Hasn’t changed much, either,” he pointed out, eying him where he stood near the dartboard with Coyote. You knew that it wasn’t exactly a negative observation - Jake and Bradley had grown to be friends, truly fond of one another, despite their differences - and smiled as he returned his attention to you. “Some of these kids are going to give him a run for his money, though.”
“Another Hangman? Yikes. How will the Navy survive?”
Bradley hid his grin behind his beer as he shrugged. “We may never know.”
The conversation tapered off then, a comfortable silence falling over the pair of you as the crowd continued to thrive around you. As Bradley turned his attention to the group of friends he’d wandered away from, you spared a glance at Jake. He hadn’t seemed to notice your new companion yet - or didn’t care enough to glance your way - and the thought made you sigh before returning your attention to Bradley.
It was no secret that Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. His beauty was different than Jake’s - a little less polished, a little rougher around the edges - and there was a certain charm to him that drew people in. Some days, you wondered what life might’ve been like had you met any of the others before Jake managed to sweep you off your feet, but that wasn’t a thought you ever let run very far.
Like it or not, Jake Seresin had you in his clutches. You were in love and there was little you could do to change that.
Still, Bradley seemed to read the look on your face and laughed quietly. A wry smile twisted his lips as he took a pull from his beer. “No offense,” he began as he spared you a sideways glance, “you’re beautiful and if you were here with anyone other than Hangman, I wouldn’t hesitate. But I don’t feel like fighting him. Today, anyway.”
As Bradley glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the dartboard, you allowed your gaze to follow. This time, Jake was already eying you and the expression on his face was unreadable, a stoic mask that you weren’t in the mood to decipher. He hadn’t given you that look in months and you had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be giving you that look were it not for your company.
With a sigh, you returned your attention to the drink in front of you - now melted ice and a hint of vodka. “We’re just friends,” you explained, though the declaration sounded weak in your own ears, hollow and rehearsed, and you were unable to look him in the eye. You weren’t sure who you were really trying to convince; him or yourself.
“Does he know that?” When you tipped your head to fix him with an unimpressed look, Bradley raised a hand in mock defense. “Look, Hangman’s a lot of things - an ass, mostly - but he’s not subtle.”
A snort of agreement - undignified but honest - escaped with a nod. Jake Seresin didn’t believe in subtlety and you were a firsthand witness. Though, that was at least part of the reason you were certain friendship was the only offer on the table.
“Subtle he is not,” you agreed, swirling your glass just for something to occupy your hands, “and he has made it very clear that he’s not interested in a relationship. So, just friends. With benefits.”
“When was the last time you talked about it? Because, I’ll be honest, on that first night, none of us thought we’d see you again. But then you came back,” he reminded you, expression as serious as you’d ever seen it. “It’s been nearly a year. Even when you’re not here with him, he’s with us or Coyote, doesn’t even look at anyone else. We’ve all seen the change in him,” Bradley admitted, knee knocking into yours to get your undivided attention. “There’s more to you and we can all see it. We get Hangman but you get Jake.”
Realistically, there was no reason for Bradley to lie to you. There was no way he could know the fantasy you were certain only existed in the depths of your mind. You considered him a friend - an acquaintance, at least - but you weren’t close enough for him to feel the need to protect your feelings. There was no reason for him to tell you what you wanted to hear but that did little to calm the churning in the pit of your stomach.
The thought that Jake Seresin could love you in the way you loved him, that he could truly want you - all of you, not just the parts that were convenient - seemed impossible. Too good to be true, even.
“Y’know, if flying doesn’t work out, you could make a hell of a therapist.” Bradley fixed you with an unimpressed look, accompanied by a disappointed tilt of his head, at your deflection. “Fine,” you sighed. It was clear that he wouldn’t be swayed, convinced that he was doing you and Jake a favor, so you gave in to the line of conversation. “Sure, I get Jake, but not all of him. I get just enough to break my heart and, honestly, I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Bradley.”
“I try to avoid talking to Hangman at length,” Bradley joked. That was true once upon a time, though things had changed since the first Dagger mission. You knew he wouldn’t be trying so hard unless he truly cared about him - about you both - but the joke still pulled a small smile to your lips as he nudged your knee once more. “You can’t, though. That’s only setting you both up for hurt.”
“Alright, Dr. Bradshaw,” you teased, though it sounded weak in your own ears. Bradley rolled his eyes and you relented with a nod. “Yeah. You’re right, I know. I just… I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got. It’s better than nothing.”
“For now,” he reminded you before sparing a glance over his shoulder. When you followed his gaze, it landed squarely on Jake who was eying the pair of you with a look that you didn’t like very much. It was harder than it had been only moments before, darker. The set of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, the thin line of his lips - it was a look you’d only seen a handful of times and it tied your stomach in knots. “Looks like you’ll have plenty to talk about tonight, anyway.”
Bradley had the decency to hide his amusement with a pull from his beer as you huffed. “I really don’t like that look.”
“In his defense,” Bradley began, lifting himself from his stool, “I’m pretty sure it’s directed at me, not you.” He shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the weight of Jake’s gaze on his every move, and offered you a final smile as he reached for the new beer Penny left in place of his empty bottle. “Believe it or not, Hangman really is better when he’s with you. He’s tolerable, almost. And I think you’ll both be happier when you talk about it.”
“Yeah.” Another sigh, this one resigned to the fact that your night would end with a conversation you weren’t sure you were ready to have, before you shot him a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Bradley.”
With a nod and a tap to the bar, Bradley turned to make his way back to the pool table. You could see the question in Phoenix’s eyes - in the raise of her brow when he returned - but didn’t bother keeping an eye on the conversation as your attention returned fully to Jake.
The moment Bradley wandered away, Jake pressed the remaining darts into Coyote’s hands and made his way through the crowd. He stood close, body radiating a heat that you usually found so comforting, and you nearly held your breath as he offered Penny his card to settle what had to be the smallest tab he’d ever started.
Green eyes, alight with an annoyance that told you Bradley was right - there would, indeed, be a conversation of some type before the night’s end - met yours. Instead of calming the rapid beat of your heart, it only seemed to send you spiraling further when he pressed a hand to the small of your back.
“You looked like you were having fun.”
It was casual - almost dismissive - the way he said it, but you could feel the ice in his comment chilling you to the core. Try as he might to feign nonchalance, you knew him. You could read the acid behind the charming smile he wore and swallowed hard.
This was his way of picking a fight - just as he had the first time a stranger at the Hard Deck hit on you, just as he had the last time a stranger at another bar stood a little too close - and you were in no mood to indulge him. You weren’t interested in admitting you hadn’t really considered anyone else a possibility in months, that you hadn’t even really looked at anyone else since beginning your relationship with him.
Instead, you brushed his hand away and stood from your stool before beginning to nudge your way out of the bar.
There was no doubt Jake was on your heels, so close your could still smell his cologne, but you didn’t dare spare him a glance until you reached the passenger side of his vehicle. When you turned to glance at him, shoulders slumped and backs of your eyes stinging with traitorous tears, the frown on his face drew a weary sigh.
“I’m tired, Jake,” you lied, arms folding over your chest. “Just take me home, please.”
Jake’s hands flexed, desperate to keep himself calm - and to keep himself from falling into the habit of reaching for you, tugging you into his chest and kissing you breathless with the intent of reminding you just whose name sounded best on the tip of your tongue. “I’m sure Rooster would have no problem taking you home. Why don’t you ask him?”
The sneer was unsurprising. Jake’s tried and true tactic in response to any kind of hurt - real or perceived - remained a sharp remark, designed to cut deep and you could feel your own weariness being replaced by annoyance. It tasted bitter, harsh and unfamiliar, as you shook your head. 
“We were just talking.” It took considerable effort to keep your voice even, devoid of the anger you knew he was hoping to draw, but you managed as you met his gaze head on.
Jake scoffed, wholly unconvinced, and smiled that sardonic smile that made you understand why so many people seemed to dislike Hangman - a persona you were fortunate enough to have been beyond. That wasn’t Jake, not the one you knew, and you reminded yourself of that, even as he declared, “Sure didn’t look like it from where I was standing.”
“I don’t know what you think you saw, Jake, but I wasn’t flirting with Bradley.” The assertion was strong, confident, and accompanied by a glare you hoped would hurt him as much as he was hurting you. “But, honestly,” you began, words spilling into the night air before you could think twice, “so what if I was? I can flirt with whoever I want because we’re just friends. Right?”
A twitch of his jaw, the slightest gesture but telling, was the only reaction you managed to pull from him. Instead, he shut down and that stoic mask - a front, hiding the raging sea that still swirled in the depths of his eyes - returned as he reached for the door handle. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it."
“Then what are we, Jake?” The question was quiet, nearly lost to the crashing of waves, and Jake gave no indication that he’d heard you outside of another tic of his jaw.
No answer was offered, no insight into what ran through his head. Instead, Jake pulled open the passenger door and tipped his chin toward the seat. “Get in.”
While silence with Jake was not uncommon, it had never been uncomfortable. You’d gotten into the habit of spending the odd night together, lying in silence as you both read or scrolled through your phones in the afterglow of sex, but it was comfortable. There was never a weight to it but the silence that lingered on the ride to your place pressed on your chest and constricted your lungs.
Tension, thick and blinding, filled the car, even as Jake pulled into your driveway and shut off the engine. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, both staring straight ahead and attempting to gather your thoughts. You were tempted to go inside, leaving Jake behind, and calling it a night. But you couldn’t help yourself.
“You matter to me, you asshole,” you reminded him, voice a whisper in the darkness. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah? Rooster matter to you, too?”
The lack of venom in the question told you that he didn’t mean it. It was a reflex, his go-to when he felt cornered - likely by the realization that tonight would not end the way either of you imagined it would - and you wanted to give him grace. But this had become more frequent lately, a bitter end to nice nights, and had been working your nerves. Combined with the acrid taste of reality you’d doused yourself with earlier in the night, you couldn’t bite your tongue.
With a shake of your head, you unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to look at Jake. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? Jesus, sometimes I think you were put on this earth for the sole purpose of being an asshole.” When Jake rolled his eyes, scoffing at the comment, you huffed. “Everyone can see that I’m in love with you, you dickhead. Bradley was trying to convince me that I should say something because it’s been so obvious to everyone but you for nearly a year and I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with just being friends with benefits.”
Jake Seresin was not one to doubt himself, nor was he one to doubt the intentions of others. His romantic exploits had given him a great deal of confidence in navigating conversations about lust or even infatuation, but a confession of love was, undoubtedly, not something he’d been expecting to hear. For just a moment, you could see a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he blinked and shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”
It was clear that he hadn’t been loved in a long while - not by a partner, someone not obligated to love him through blood or shared trauma - and your heart broke as you watched him attempt to process the implication. What you had was safe, a way for him to keep his walls in tact while experiencing a modicum of the affection he so desperately wanted, but it wasn’t enough.
For either of you, it seemed.
Beneath the doubt, the surprise, lingered a glimmer of something bright. You refused to believe that it could be hope - because hope was the thing that would kill you - but you were in too deep to end the conversation there. So, you nodded.
“Yeah, I do. I’m in love with you. I know the lines have blurred in the last few months and a label doesn’t change much but, fuck, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t deal with not knowing where I stand with you. I can’t deal with being called your girl but knowing I’m really not. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay playing house when I can’t even confidently tell my family about you.” With a sigh, you shook your head and admitted, “Half-happy isn’t enough for me anymore, Jake.”
Jake remained silent for a moment, statue still in the driver’s seat, but you could see the emotions flickering in his eyes. A part of you wanted to beg him to speak, to tell you to leave or that he was flattered but it would never work or that he was sorry to have lead you on, but you remained quiet and allowed him to process. And after the longest few moments of your life - in reality, no more than a minute or two - he lifted a warm hand to cup your jaw.
As if in slow motion, Jake leaned over the console and pressed his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. Though you’d kissed him more times than you could count over the last year, this kiss was unlike any other you’d shared. It was rough, passionate and clumsy with a lack of finesse Jake usually possessed, but it spoke volumes. His fingers pressed into the hinge of your jaw, lips warm and searching as he gave himself fully to the embrace.
The warmth of him, overwhelming in the small space, bled into your skin and sent a shiver down your spine as you allowed yourself a moment to indulge. The kiss felt like a goodbye - only comparable to the one you’d shared before Jake left for a weeklong mission - and you weren’t sure if you’d get another.
“Jake, stop,” you mumbled against his mouth, shifting your head as best you could to break the kiss. Despite the hold he kept on you, he allowed you to pull away and remained close as you tipped your head to search his face. There was no hint of what he was feeling, though you took a moment to commit the look to memory - the flushed cheeks, the ruddy lips, the bright eyes - before sighing. “You can’t get out of this conversation with sex.”
“We’re not just friends,” he repeated, voice so soft it made your chest ache. It was a tone you’d only heard once before, in the dim of your bedroom the night he returned, and it was accompanied by a softening of his features as he smoothed a thumb across your cheekbone. “You know it, and so do I.”
Hope, the thing you’d so desperately avoided for so long in relation to Jake Seresin, began to bloom in the pit of your stomach as soft eyes searched your face. That didn’t sound like a goodbye - in fact, it sounded more like a greeting, a welcome to feelings you’d both avoided breathing aloud - but you needed him to say it.
“Jake.” The murmur of his name was pleading, a desperate request for him to confirm that he shared your feelings, and it made him shift just a little closer.
“I’m in love with you, too,” he confirmed, corner of his mouth kicking up in a soft smile as you exhaled. The admittance felt like a jolt of adrenaline and you were half-certain you’d misheard him. But he doubled down and continued, “I have been for months.”
A warmth spread throughout your limbs, bright and burning hot, as you searched his face for any hint of deceit. Jake wouldn’t lie, not about this, but you were still cautious as you leaned into his touch.
Realistically, you knew that Jake had to have felt something for you. You’d been together for months in everything but name - starting with the first night he slept over - but to hear him confirm he felt the same, that he loved you, too, was almost too much. You’d spent so long telling yourself there was no way, that Jake couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him, that you needed to hear him say it once more.
“Tell me again.”
Jake smiled, eyes bright even in the dim light filtering in through the window, as he leaned in. “I love you,” he repeated, lips brushing yours and breath fanning across your cheek.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” The question escaped before you could stop it, necessary to ask but not one you’d pictured bringing up so soon. Jake, however, seemed to have expected it.
“We said no strings,” he reminded you, shrugging slightly. “Even without them, we were’t seeing other people so I thought you knew and were happy with where we were. You said everyone knew you were in love with me. They knew I was in love with you, too.”
It was as if his answer should’ve been obvious, known to everyone but the two of you, and you realized that Bradley’s insistence you talk to Jake was coming from a place of knowledge rather than intuition. You were Jake’s girl and there was no reason to question it - it was fact, easily seen by anyone who happened to glance, but easy to miss when you were so caught up in your own head.
Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “Then why have you been such an ass lately? More than usual, anyway.”
Despite the huff of laughter that escaped, Jake’s smile quickly fell into a frown as his thumb brushed your cheekbone. He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his answer, before he sighed. His eyes searched your face, for what you weren’t sure. “This year has been pretty calm,” he began, frown deepening. “I’m usually gone, out of touch for months. I can’t give you what you deserve and I was waiting for you to figure that out. We weren’t seeing other people but there was never a conversation saying we couldn’t.”
“You were jealous?”
A small part of you expected him to deny it - to scoff and insist that Jake Seresin was immune to jealousy - but you could see the hint of insecurity in his eyes. The walls were crumbling in real time, shattering to pieces and baring the depths of his soul, and you couldn’t say you were surprised to see him shrug.
“More like I was just waiting for you to end things, realize a relationship wouldn’t work and move on with someone who could make you happy.”
Jake’s admission told you more than you imagined he intended. Though he’d had his fair share of experience before you, it was clear that very few of his relationships had been more serious than a brief affair. And for all his bravado, his esteem had taken a hit. He saw himself as enough to bed, enough to ogle, but not enough to love and you could feel the ache in your chest grow more prominent as you lifted your own hand to cup his cheek.
The warmth of his skin bled into your palm and you blinked back the sting of tears as Jake turned his head just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “I haven’t even considered anyone else since we met. I know it’s not always going to be easy but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”
As soon as you finished speaking, Jake surged forward and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was enough to steal your breath, to express the words he couldn’t quite speak just yet, and you sank into it fully. The seatbelt buckle dug into your skin, uncomfortable but tolerable as you focused on Jake’s touch, and you knew that this was where you were meant to be.
“Come inside,” you urged the moment Jake broke the kiss. Breathless and warm, you knew where the night was headed and didn’t want to lose yourself in the confines of the car.
Jake grinned at your invitation, eyes glittering with an amusement you’d missed, as he pulled away and unbuckled his own seatbelt. “You gonna let me?”
The double entendre was one you’d brought upon yourself but you still rolled your eyes fondly as you headed for the front door. “I hate you,” you called over your shoulder, laughing as he followed you into your home.
“No, you don’t. You love me,” he gloated, countenance brighter than you’d seen it in months as he pushed the door shut and locked it behind him.
“Why, I’ll never know.” 
It was teasing, a taunt that made Jake roll his eyes, but he refused to let it linger as he reached out and gripped your hips. Jake pulled you close, body pressed to yours against the front door, and tipped his head to brush his lips against yours. “Why don’t we put that mouth to better use, sweetheart,” he proposed, smirking as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
Jake gave you no chance to respond. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours once more, captured your lips in a searing kiss that lit a flame to the already smoldering embers of arousal settling in the pit of your stomach. His fingers dug into the skin of your hips, pulled you as close as he could manage, and you knew there would be a reminder of his touch left in the morning.
The kiss tasted of mint and a hint of alcohol, achingly familiar in a way you never expected to love, and stole your breath as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your top. As his fingers skated across your skin, calloused and warm, he began to wander backward in the direction of your bedroom.
As many times as you’d done this, making the trek to your room was easy. You managed to avoid causing any damage - to your furniture or yourselves - and only broke the kiss the moment you stepped through the doorway.
Jake was always a sight to behold, golden and beautiful in even the worst moments, but there was something about him in moments like this that made you want nothing more than to observe him. There was a hint of pink dusting the tops of his cheeks, his lips ruddy and kiss swollen, and his hair mussed from your fingers raking through it.
“You can take a picture if you want,” he teased, grinning as he reached for the hem of your top. “Give you something to get off to when I’m away.”
“Fuck off,” you huffed, though it lacked venom entirely as you allowed him to strip the garment and toss it into a corner. “How do you want me?”
“You’re letting me choose? Damn, you must really love me.” Jake laughed at the look you shot him - unimpressed, though it was a struggle to hide your amusement - and knocked your hand away from the button of your jeans. “Hands off. That’s my job.” As the denim fell to the floor, exposing you to his hungry gaze, he whistled lowly. “Fuck, sugar, you get better every time. Lie back for me. I wanna take my time with you.”
With Jake, there was never any shame. He made you feel wanted, desired in a way no one else had, and you reveled in the feeling of his gaze roving your skin. He knew every inch of you, had been privy to this view more times than you could count, but something about the look in his eyes made you feel truly seen. It was as if he were looking at you for the first time all over again and you offered him a sultry smile as you settled onto the bed.
“It’s not fair I’m nearly naked and you’re fully clothed. Lose the jeans, cowboy.” Jake grinned at your order, however teasing it was, and readily shucked off his button-down and jeans. Just as he had, you let out a low whistle and winked when he approached the foot of the bed. “I hate to boost your ego but, Jesus, you’re hot.”
Jake didn’t bother responding. Instead, he climbed onto the bed and settled above you, caging you between his arms and grinning when you shuddered at the feeling of his heated skin meeting yours. He was careful not to settle his full weight onto you, only pressed enough to feel him, and leaned in to ghost kisses along the curve of your jaw.
Warm hands skated across your exposed skin, fingers tracing a path of fire down your arm, across your stomach, along the band of your panties, as he pressed his mouth to the pulse point just below your ear. There was little doubt he could feel the way your heart hammered beneath his lips, racing with every shift of his body, and you could feel his mouth curve into a smirk as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric of your panties.
“What d’you want, sweets? All you gotta do is ask, and I’ll give it to you,” he promised, calloused fingers skating along the top of your mound.
Every twitch of his fingers sent a shiver down your spine, had your heart rate doubling and set your skin alight. He was so close to where you wanted him and you knew that this time, he would give in the moment you asked. As your fingers threaded in his hair, nails raking through the mussed strands, you shifted your hips and sighed.
“Touch me, please.” The plea was soft, whispered in his ear as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you could feel the warmth of his breath as he exhaled heavily. When he didn’t move, fingers still against your skin, you whispered the words you knew would set him in motion. “Always make me feel so good,” you praised, one hand falling to his shoulder as your nails lightly scraped across his skin. “No one else could ever compare.”
“Damn right.” The praise, as expected, spurred him on. Jake’s hand slipped lower, fingers gliding through the slick between your thighs, and he groaned at the feeling. “Fuck, so wet, sugar. Just for me?”
“Always for you,” you confirmed, nails digging into his shoulder as his thumb brushed your aching clit. “Only for you.”
A soft sigh escaped as Jake coated his fingers in your slick, mouth pressed to your skin as he nipped at the delicate skin of your throat, and you could feel his cock twitch against your thigh. He knew exactly how to press your buttons, how to push you over the edge with only a few swipes of his fingers or tongue, and you arched into the feeling of his mouth traveling lower as he pressed his fingers into your entrance.
Jake trailed kisses down the column of your throat, across the delicate skin of your collarbone, and winked when he reached your breasts. He nipped at the soft skin, just enough to send a jolt down your spine, before he continued his descent. When he reached the band of your panties, he took the material between his teeth and began to tug, only removing his fingers from your center to rid you of the material.
Before you could whine at the loss, Jake gripped your thighs and parted them just enough to shoulder his way between them. He pressed himself as close as he could, placed one of your thighs over his shoulder, and turned his head to mouth at the soft skin of your thigh as his fingers returned to your center.
Every drag of his fingers was purposeful, slow and deliberate and designed to have you seeing stars, and you could feel the band in the pit of your stomach growing taut as his thumb circled your clit. Those eyes, blown black with lust, lifted to your face as your fingers threaded in his hair once more, and you nearly came from the sight alone.
Having Jake between your thighs, fingers dripping your slick and focus entirely on your pleasure, was more of a power trip than anything you���d ever experienced. Every nerve ending felt like a live wire, jolts of pleasure shooting down your spine as his fingers pressed deeper and deeper, and you could only manage to cry out his name as the first orgasm - of many, you were sure - washed over you.
“There we go, sweets,” he encouraged, breath fanning over your center and making you cry out, “look so fucking pretty when you fall apart for me. Can I have a taste?”
Despite the aftershocks, the tension in your thighs and the difficulty you seemed to have finding the words to convey your pleasure, you used the grip on his hair to tug his face closer to your center. Luckily, you’d been here before - knew one another well enough to speak without words - and Jake took your answer for what it was worth.
Jake’s mouth was sinful and you could feel him smirk at the moan that filled your room as he swiped his tongue through your folds. He returned the noise, groaning at the taste of you, and gripped your thighs to tug you closer. The feeling of his fingers, slick with your release, pressing into your skin coupled with the broad swipes of his tongue, desperate to push you over the edge once more, sent your pulse skyrocketing as you tugged his hair and ground your hips in search of relief.
The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming in the most perfect of ways, and you knew that he would spend his night between your thighs, if you let him. His nose brushed your clit with every tilt of his head, tongue lapping at the release you’d already given him, and you could see stars bursting behind your eyelids as he doubled down on his ministrations and returned his fingers to your center.
That second orgasm - truly, a continuation of the first as he hadn’t let you come down - had your back arching from the bed and your fingers gripping Jake’s hair, just a little too tight. He pressed his free hand to your hip, eager to keep you in place, and hummed as he lapped at the release you gave him.
While you knew he would keep going, push you to a third release with his mouth and fingers if you let him, you used your grip on his hair to weakly tug him away as the stimulation began to grow overwhelming. Your thighs shook beneath his hands and your breath came in heaving pants, unable to fill your lungs quick enough, and Jake grinned as he lifted his head.
“Tastes like heaven,” he declared, laughing only when you huffed a breathless noise of amusement. “You good, or you need a minute?”
As Jake shifted, hand on your hip and eyes searching your face in search of an answer, you beckoned him closer. Despite the evidence of your slick coating his mouth and chin, you tugged him in for a kiss and sighed into it as he eagerly returned the embrace.
Against your hip, you could feel the evidence of his arousal - small wet patch blooming against the fabric of his briefs, cock straining and weighing heavily against your skin - and you shifted your hips, just enough to make him groan.
“I’m good,” you assured him, voice hoarse with pleasure and still breathless. “Please, wanna feel you.”
Jake sighed as your hands, lightly trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, trailed along his torso to the band of his briefs. He shifted, just enough to allow you to nudge them down, before tugging them the rest of the way off and tossing them to join your clothes. 
The weight of his body pressed to yours, skin warm and slick with the lightest sheen of sweat, had you keening as the tip of his cock brushed your clit before nudging your entrance. Jake inhaled sharply at the feeling, fingers digging into the skin of your hip, and only moved when you begged him to.
Jake pressed forward, moving slowly to give you a moment to adjust, and leaned forward to press his forehead to yours when your nails sank into his shoulder once more. “You can take it, sweets,” he encouraged, voice brittle as he sank into you. “Fuck, I know you can take it. Always so good for me.”
Each sensation felt magnified as Jake settled fully inside of you. The weight of his body pressed to yours, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the rough pads of his fingers as they stroked your hipbone to calm you as your muscles twitched with overstimulation, every ridge and vein of his cock as it stretched your walls; everything felt overwhelming in the most beautiful way possible and you couldn’t help the pleading moan that escaped as Jake shifted his hips experimentally.
With your approval, Jake began to move slowly. Each thrust was methodical, deep and searching for that spot that had you seeing stars, and you could see the tension in his jaw as he began to build a satisfying rhythm. With an experimental shift of his hips, the tip of his cock nudged a spot that drew a gasp from you and he grinned triumphantly.
“Right there?” When you moaned, unable to do more than tangle your fingers in his hair and tug him impossibly closer, Jake nipped at the curve of your jaw. “That’s it,” he encouraged, hand snaking between your bodies to rub at your aching clit. “Tell me how it feels, sweets,” he demanded, voice rough in your ear as he shifted his head just enough to catch a glimpse of your face. “Feel good?”
The shattered moan you released, keening and so desperate it made his hips stutter, wasn’t quite enough. It spurred him on, had his hips moving faster, and you cried out at the lewd sound of his hips meeting your skin. “So,” the answer was split by a broken moan, a sharp gasp as he hiked your thigh around his waist for a better angle, and Jake smirked at the way your eyes rolled back.
“So, what,” he pressed, seeking an answer that he knew you were nearly unable to give. “I need an answer, pretty girl. If I don’t get one, you don’t get to come.”
Jake’s threat wasn’t empty - he’d never left you truly hanging but he had taken a particular liking to edging, pulling you to the brink only to push you back until you gave in to his requests - and you whined at the way his hips slowed the longer you took to answer.
“So good,” you cried out, finally able to catch your breath just enough to answer. “Fuck, so good!”
He hummed, pleased by your answer, and began to pick up the pace once more as your hand returned to his hair. Though breathing was difficult enough, oxygen hard to come by even in gasps, you still dragged him in for a kiss that was more a clash of lips and teeth and tongue than a true embrace as your vision began to white around the edges.
Jake could read you better than a well-loved novel, saw the signs before you could, and pressed your hips into the mattress as he sank deeper and deeper. His thumb worked tight circles over your clit, just as desperate for you to fall over the edge as you were, and you could feel his gaze searing into your skin as you came for the third time.
The ringing of your ears nearly drowned out the sound of Jake’s groan, deep and desperate as he snapped his hips a few more times in search of his own release. Every inch of your skin felt too warm and air felt impossible to come by, but you rode out the wave with the help of Jake’s hands skating across your skin.
Jake fell to the mattress at your side, careful to remain close but keep enough distance to make you comfortable, and for a few long moments, the only noise in the room was the ragged sounds of you both attempting to catch your breath.
When you could feel your temperature returning to normal, the tingling in the tips of your fingers and toes leaving, you moved your hand just enough to grab his and intertwine your fingers. “You have such a praise kink,” you teased, still breathless and voice hoarse with use as you turned your head to find Jake already looking at you.
Instead of denying it, Jake laughed and squeezed your hand. “I want to make sure my girl feels good,” he defended, shrugging as best he could. “Somethin’ wrong with that?”
“I keep feeding your ego, but you’ve never left me wanting,” you assured him, rolling your eyes when he smirked. “So, I’m your girl now?”
It was his turn to roll his eyes as he tugged you closer. “You’ve been my girl for a while now,” he reminded you. “Nothing changes except I can tell people to fuck off if they get too close.”
With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and tipped your chin just enough to meet his gaze. As his fingers brushed along the heated skin of your side, warm and threatening to lull you to sleep, you tapped his chest. “I’m yours. The jealousy thing isn’t cute. You can’t lose your shit every time I talk to someone. You’re the only one I want and you have to trust that. You have to trust me.”
“I do,” he promised, gaze softening. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to take my fears out on you. It won’t happen again,” he assured you.
Though there were still questions to be answered and a conversation to be had, you trusted that you were on the same page. And as he brushed at your heated skin, fingers skating across your back and side, you drifted to sleep with the knowledge that you were Jake’s girl, just as you had been all along.
__________________________________________________
Author’s Note: How did we get here. My smut is rusty and I need to practice. But instead I’m working on Hangman angst. Whoops.
Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​
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The Fake Ring
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Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female Reader 
Summary: The three times you lied about your relationship status with a ring and one time you don’t have to anymore or - It’s easier to work as a bartender with a fake ring on your finger to avoid situations. But that also means Jake thinks you’re already in a relationship 
Word Count: ~2.7k 
Warnings: is the beach scene a warning?, discussions about situations when you need to lie you’re in a relationship to get rid of people, me not having a clue about the navy  
AN: I started this story a year ago when I bought myself a fake ring for work. I rewrote it 3 times and I wasn't so sure, if I should post it on this blog, but I love TGM and I had fun writing it, so: Hi Jake, welcome to this blog
When you needed to make sure you were off limits 
The night had just started for you as you were stacking the clean glasses and had just finished counting the register. Nobody was there so far, but that would change when the naval aviators would come in and the folks that tried to talk to them or get one to sleep with them would arrive. They often arrived after them in the hopes they would see their entry. 
You liked the beginning of your shift when you had the room to yourself until the regulars came in and then the aviators. They were nice and often chatted with you until it got crowded. It was how you got to know some of them, and you were especially fond of the group that was currently stationed there. 
Right when you thought about it the door opened and a few of them stepped in. They stopped at the bar and waited for you to make their drinks while small talk floated through the room. They took their drinks and went to their side of the bar where the first bets for a game of pool were placed. 
“You’re not playing tonight?” you asked Hangman who stayed back at the bar with you. 
“I’ll let them a chance of winning before I join them,” he smirked at you and you laughed. He wasn’t wrong though; he was good at pool. And at dart. And at flirting. “I rather keep you company if you have time for me. How was your day?” he asked and took a sip of his beer. You knew that he would quit after the first beer and would switch to something non-alcoholic if the next day was a working day. 
“Same old, same old. Nothing as exciting as flying for sure. I bet you don’t want to hear about me going grocery shopping and that my highlight was to pick up a new book that I got lost in until I noticed I had to leave for work,” you teased as you filled a drink for another customer. 
When you came back Hangman was still there. “I like to hear about everything that makes you happy.” His eyes quickly went to the piece of jewelry on your hand. “I’ll see you later, darling,” he said and stood up before he joined the others at the pool table. You almost forgot about the ring. You started wearing it when people started hitting on you and for the most part it worked. And it was better this way, because you weren’t sure if you could tell Hangman no. 
Hangman flirted all the time, so you wouldn’t be special. Even though he always asked about you and your day and coaxed you into telling more. And people did talk about him a lot and had a certain opinion of him, but he was always respectful and you knew he wouldn’t cross a line. 
That’s why you were seeing him flirting a few hours later with two women who were more than willing to do so. Phoenix had slipped into a seat in front of you. “Another round?” you asked her. It was a slow night so you could give her a few minutes. 
“Yes please, and a break from Hangman's terrible flirting, so don’t hurry,” she replied and it made you laugh. 
“I bet he isn’t that bad,” slipped your lips and you hurried to bend down and grab some bottles, so she couldn’t see your face. But she was still staring at you when you were back on her eyelevel.
2. When you had to protect your heart 
Inventory sucked! There was no other way to describe the days when you had to count how many things you still had at the bar and what you needed to order. You stepped out of the cool bar towards the bench where Penny sat outside. “Okay, I counted...” you never finished the sentence as you just spotted what was happening on the beach. 
“Take a seat, enjoy the show,” Penny chuckled and patted the bench next to her. 
“What is happening?” you managed to get out and stare at the people who were playing some kind of game – shirtless. “Is that Phoenix?” 
“Yup and everyone else. Give me the list,” she held out her hand and you put the paper in her hand before you sat down and started watching whatever was happening there. “I bet we could get a lot of money if we would record that,” you said to your boss. 
“Yeah, but do we like to share?” was her reply and you shook your head no. 
“While we’re at it… what’s going on with Hangman and you?” Her tone was easy, but she looked at you with something that told you there was no escaping that conversation.  
“Nothing. He likes to flirt with everyone, that’s it.” You shrugged your shoulders and let your gaze wander back to the game when a loud shout was heard, and someone lifted a guy – Bob? You weren’t so sure – into the air. 
“If you would take that thing of your finger, maybe,” Penny started, but you interrupted her. 
“There is a reason this is on this finger.” You wiggled your hand, and the small stone caught the sunlight and reflected it. “People won’t accept a no anymore and,” this time it was Penny who interrupted you. 
“Did someone do anything you didn’t want to?” 
“No! It’s just they see it as a challenge when I decline it. But once they see the ring they kind of back off. It's just easier for me this way.” 
“Okay, once they do you tell me. I won’t tolerate anything of that, okay?” She waited until you agreed and patted your hand. Inventory took longer than usual because you were distracted by the game. 
Penny had gone inside to place the order and you were busy collecting everything from the table when a shadow fell over the papers. “Enjoyed the show?”  
“It was okay,” you replied and eyed the sandwich Hangman was eating. He held a half out towards you. After a short hesitation you took it and bit into it. He took Penny’s seat and you shared the food. You were thankful that he had put on a shirt, because otherwise you would have stared at his body. 
“I think I need to have a chat with them,” he said once he finished and licked his finger. You were mesmerized and didn’t catch on immediately.  
“Huh?”  
“Your partner. They need to take better care of you. But I shouldn’t have to point out the obvious that you should feed your partner. You never even told me a name,” he said and looked at you expectingly. 
Suddenly you went hot, caught in your own lie. Never had someone requested a name of you and you couldn’t come up with something. “Maybe because you only talk about yourself,” you said and stood up. You quickly grabbed the papers and threw a “Thank you for lunch” over your shoulder before you went inside the building. 
It was a lie; he was always asking about you. But you knew when you came up with something on such a short notice you would be caught in a web of lies. You needed to think about it.
3. When you had to admit you lied 
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bob asked when he saw Jake watching you again at the Hard Deck. 
Jake didn’t even bother to look away from you, only when it was his turn at pool. “Because despite all of you thinking I’m an asshole, I’m not hitting on someone who is taken. It’s just a little flirting and as soon as she tells me to stop I will,” he said while lining up his cue and as he didn’t lower his voice the others were also pulled into the conversation. 
“Who are we talking about?” Rooster asked and hoped his opponent would be too distracted to sink the next ball. 
“His crush,” Coyote jumped in, he had been wanting to bring it up for a while. 
“What crush?” Rooster asked confused. The others just stared at him, while Jake mumbled something about not having a crush. “Don’t look at me, he was just flirting with three different people last week,” Rooster defended himself. 
“They wanted to be entertained and I just did that. It wasn’t as if I was leaving with them though.” Despite the talking he managed to sink two more balls before it was Bradley's turn again. 
“Okay so... if she’s in a relationship, why is she spending her breaks with you? And I haven’t heard her talking about a relationship ever,” Bob thought loudly. “Although she also mostly talks to you and not me.” 
This made Jake pause. Not once had he heard a name from you, he saw the ring and assumed and went from there. But you also didn’t deny anything when he mentioned a partner. But Jake was anything but shy that’s why he left the table without an excuse and stalked to the bar. He waited patiently for you to finish your conversation and shooed Penny away when she wanted to take his order. She gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t break her gaze. Only when he noticed you approaching, he looked in your direction. You shot him a smile and showed him you’d be with him soon. 
“Want a refill?” you asked once you stopped in front of him. 
“Are you in a relationship?” The question made you stop and you stared at him like a deer caught in the headlight. 
“Why are you asking?” Your response told him a lot, so he just raised his eyebrow. “No, I’m not,” you admitted as you didn’t want to lie to him. 
“Okay, then why this?” he pointed at your finger. Another patron showed you he wanted to order something and Penny was busy at the other end of the bar. 
“I’ll join you in my break and explain then, okay? So, about the refill?” 
“I’m good, see you then,” he knocked on the bar twice before he made his way to the restroom. 
You took your break earlier than you would have usually. After a stop in the kitchen you walked over to the pool table with a plate full of nachos and two cokes in your hand. You pushed one in Jakes hand who was leaning against the wall watching the current game. You held out your plate too, but he just shook his head. It was quiet for a while when you watched the other aviators play. 
“How often have you been hit on and the person didn’t back off when you told them you weren't interested? Or were you always interested? Wait, I just realized I asked the wrong person.” You looked around and wanted to ask Phoenix when you spotted Bob. You repeated the question again. Poor Bob looked tortured and admitted it had happened quiet often. 
“Some people even see it as a challenge, especially when more people are around,” Phoenix chimed in who had come over when she spotted you with her back seater. 
“If someone tells me they’re not interested, why should I humiliate myself and try harder?” Jake wondered. 
“Oh Jake, if only everyone would be that way,” you patted his arm and didn’t know why you were surprised that it was quite hard under your touch. “The thing is I’m at work, a little flirting is okay, but people seem to forget that the later it gets. And the easiest way to get them to back off and not cause a scene is this one.” You held up your ring to show him. “This works way better than the I’ve got a boyfriend excuse and don’t even get me started on the girlfriend option.” 
“So why not say anything to me?” Jake finally asked. 
You shrugged. “How should I have known you’d be different back then? And you already noticed it. I didn’t know if you were really interested and that you started asking questions.” 
“Just wanted to make sure you know if you say the word I’ll back down. Will you say the word?” His eyebrow rose while he stared at you, waiting for your answer. 
“Jury is still out. My break is over, if you want to see me you must visit me at the bar,” you threw a wink at Jake before you walked back to the kitchen to return the dishes. 
+ 1 time you didn't need the ring
“Hey darling, okay for me to come in?” you heard Jakes before you saw him. He was standing in the doorway with the sun behind him, so you told yourself this was the reason it was hard to look at him. 
“Sure,” you nodded and he stepped inside. “You alone?” 
“Yeah,” he confirmed and walked towards the bar where you were stacking glasses. “I’m actually here to tell you we’re leaving for a short while so you wouldn’t worry about,” he kind of rambled at the end it caused you to look up at him and stop your task. 
“Are you nervous?” you finally asked. 
“Me? Never!” He tried to sound confident, but you saw right through him. 
“You know how long you’ll be gone?” The walk around the counter towards him was quick and you put your arms around him and pulled him close to you to your first actual hug. It didn’t take him long to return the gesture and his arms found their way around your middle. 
“Not allowed to share,” he mumbled and you noticed how some weight dropped from his shoulder. 
“Okay, well come back safe.”  
He promised you that and let go after a while. It seemed like neither of you were ready for that. 
“Hangman!” He stopped at your yelling just before he was about to leave the place. “Bring back everyone else home too.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted and left quickly. 
“Keep them coming, sweets. And add whatever you want to and join us.” 
“Thank you, I’m working. But I’ll bring a new round shortly,” you said and sidestepped the table and the outstretched arm to go back to the bar. So far this group wasn’t a real bother, but you had to be careful when the night progressed. And three rounds later they got kind of rowdy telling you to join them again. It was more demanding this time. 
“Is there a problem here?” you suddenly heard a voice behind you and when you turned around you saw Jake behind you. Before you could think about it your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and you hugged him. 
“You’re back! Are you okay, are the others?” Over his shoulder you could see Fanboy, Rooster and Coyote while you spotted a few others making their way over to the pool table. 
“You haven’t answered his question. Is there a problem here?” Roosters smile that he sent your way was gone quickly when he mustered the guys at the table. 
“No problem here at all,” one man said with his arms raised in defense. 
“I sure hope so, we have no problem throwing you overboard,” Jake told them and took your hand and pulled you towards the bar. “Where is your ring?” he asked when he noticed the lack of jewelry. 
“Don’t know. Felt kind of wrong wearing it now,” you shrugged. 
“How about we make a deal?” he asked and you just realized how close the two of you were. “You don’t have to wear it when I’m around. I’ll take care of everything then. You can wear it when I’m not here and you can tell them that you have someone that already takes care of you.” 
“Do I?” you asked cheekily, but you had also noticed that everything had shifted with Jake. And his lack of flirting with others. 
“Always had. Let me take you out,” he said and everything else disappeared when his forehead pressed against yours and he stared into your eyes. 
“Okay,” you breathed, and your lips almost touched. “But I must get back to work now. See you in my break?” you asked and he nodded which caused you to laugh as your faces were still touching. “See you later, Jake.” You finally walked away and didn’t see the clap Jake got on his back from his friends while he still looked after you with a lovesick look on his face. 
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seresinsbabe · 1 year
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Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader
Synopsis: You're just trying to enjoy a quiet night at home when a less than sober pilot is dropped off at your doorstep. And he's spilling all his sober thoughts in drunk words.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, fluff, drunk jake. Nothing else I can think of. A/N: This is not my first fic, but it is my first fic on here. If this one doesn't flop there will definitely be more! Otherwise I will just retreat into the reader shadows xD
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“And those…god those eyes…” Hangman slurred slightly, a combination of his Texas upbringing and the whiskey in his system.
“Okay! We fucking get it Seresin!” Rooster groaned out in frustration. Frustration that Jake Seresin didn’t seem to notice in his drunken state even with Bradley’s use of his last name. It was supposed to have been guys' night out and to Jake’s defense it had started that way. Only the more liquor he consumed the more his thoughts were consumed by you. And thus had led to Rooster’s frustration when all Jake could talk about was you.
You were the only woman he’d ever gone after that had turned him down for reasons other than having a man. The only one that hadn’t fallen for his southern drawl and charming smile. Jake wasn’t used to that, but he also wasn’t used to the way it made him want you. Relationships had never been his forte. Sure, he’d had one or two, but mostly in high school and college. Nothing serious since he’d joined the navy. But you? The sweet middle school teacher with your perfect smile, curves in all the right places and sweet voice that could make the devil give up his sinful ways? All Jake Seresin could think about was making you his and only his.
Bradley knew from Phoenix that you were more into Jake than you were willing to let the man know. He knew you’d had your heart broken by one too many military men and that you were damned if you were going to let a silver tongued devil with pretty green eyes break it all over again. Normally Brad would have agreed, he would have supported you in your decision to keep Hangman at an arm's length. At first he had, then it became apparent that Hangman didn’t look at you the way he looked at all the other women. In all the years he’d known the Texan playboy he’d never seen him like this over someone. 
So by the first hour of Jake drunkenly babbling about how perfect you were he formulated a plan.
It was a typical Thursday night for you. Work had been long and you’d already decided that morning that tonight would be a self care night. Which for you included binge watching New Girl with a stuffed crust pizza and a bottle of wine.
You were giggling uncontrollably as you watched Nick and Schmidt argue over a towel when the first thunk came. It was loud and scared both you and your cat that was curled up in your lap. The time on your phone read 10:41, way too late for anyone to be coming over unannounced. You felt your heart rate increase and as another thunk sounded out you stood up, grabbing the baseball bat you kept stashed by your door for emergencies. Holding the bat in your right hand, up high and ready to swing, with your left you reached out and unlocked the door. Only when you opened it did you realize it wasn’t an intruder at all. 
“Jake?” The sandy haired pilot stood at your door and you could smell the whiskey on his breath from here. 
He grinned lazily at you and damn if it didn’t make you swoon just the littlest bit. Why was his drunk ass here, though? You knew it had been guys' night, but never before had any of the guys been dumped at your doorstep while drunk. 
 “Hi sweets,” he lurched forward, losing his stability against your door frame and you reached out, catching him. 
“Jesus! How did you get here?” Your eyes searched outside and you didn’t see his truck, but surely he hadn’t walked here. That would have been one hell of a walk from the Hard Deck to your little bungalow. 
“Cock-a- cock-a-doodle whooo,” you let out a soft giggle at his attempt to crow. You took that as he meant Rooster had been the one to declare you babysitter. You made a mental note to rip Rooster a new one come morning.
Jake stumbled a bit more and you grunted as you tried to keep the man up. He was much larger than you, taller by at least six inches and definitely carried more mass. “Okay, okay,” you huffed as you slung his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s get you into bed.” It was a struggle but eventually you got him to your guest bedroom. You helped him collapse on the bed and then left in search of water and ibuprofen. Lucky for Jake you still had some packets of pedialyte powder in your pantry from the last time Nix needed a GNO. 
When you got back to the room Jake had somehow managed to strip down to his boxers. You were thankful that his eyes were closed because had they not been he definitely would have caught you admiring him. It was like he’d been carved out of marble by Gods. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it was the first time you’d seen him in nothing but boxers in your house. 
“Sweets,” the Texan drawled out, calling for you. He’d always called you that, from the day he met you, it had never really had much of an affect on you before. Hearing it with that drunken tone of desperation made it hit differently. Your feet carried you over to him and before you had time to react he’d reached out, pulling you to him by the oversized t-shirt you had on. 
You let out a surprised squeak as he wrapped his arms around you. The bottle of pedialyte mixture and ibuprofen is still in your hands as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. A familiar heat pools in your cheek and tints them pink. “Jake, come on you’re drunk. You need to drink this and take some medicine.” This was probably the nicest you’d ever talked to Jake. Though every other conversation you’d had revolved around you rejecting him to protect your own heart from his philandering ways. 
Jake harrumphed when he felt you trying to pry yourself out of his arms and just tightened his grip on you. It would be a lie to tell yourself it didn’t feel nice, that you couldn’t get used to being held by him, but Jake wasn’t that kind of guy and you knew that. “Mm want you,” he murmured into your neck.
“Jake, I am not going to hook up with you,” you rolled your eyes so hard he could probably hear it. “Especially not when you’re drunk.” You tried to push yourself out of his arms again, but again his arms tightened around you.
“No sweets, wanna make you mine.” You froze, the pills and water bottle slipping out of your hand. “Wanna be with you, my girl.” He slurred softly into your neck. “So pretty…perfect…be a good mama to our babies.” If you were a cartoon you were sure your heart would burst out of your chest with as hard as it was beating right now. There was no way Jake Seresin was drunkenly telling you he wanted to make a family with you. This had to be just the liquor talking. You wanted to get away, to go have this mini panic attack by yourself, but every time you tried his hold on you just tightened. So you waited it out and once he was in a deep enough sleep you slipped out of his arms. 
With two fingers on each hand you rubbed your temples and paced in your living room. Your mind was spinning so fast that you just had to convince yourself that it was all the liquor. Jake Seresin didn’t date and he definitely didn’t marry women, least of all you. So far you've been able to keep yourself from falling for his charm by telling yourself that all you are to him is another conquest. Another notch on his long belt. What he’d just said had meant nothing and come the morning he’d be back to his despicable self. 
After chugging the rest of the wine in your glass you locked back up. Your self care night had effectively been ruined and it seemed like the best thing to do now was go to bed. Before you settled down in your bed you made sure to send Rooster a not so nice text. To which he just responded with a sequence of mocking emojis.
Jake was still asleep when you woke up the next morning. You just hoped he didn’t sleep the whole day away. It would be much harder to get what he said last night out of your head if he was in your house all day long. Maybe it would be best if you just left to avoid any and all awkward contact. You had some errands to run that day anyway.
“Sweets?” You winced as you heard his voice, thick with sleep in a way that had your stomach flipping. “Not that I’m upset I woke up at your place, but how did I get here?” Finally you turned from where you stood in front of the stove, bacon frying up in a pan. How the hell did he look this good hungover?
“Rooster dropped you off,” you hummed in a slightly irritated tone as you pushed water and pills over to him. “Not sure why I was the one chosen to take care of your drunk ass and listen to you admit fake feelings for me.” You mused, turning back towards the food cooking on the stove. 
You expected Jake to chuckle and make some comment about how his lines hadn’t worked on you yet again, but that one day they would. He was sober now and sober Jake was far different than drunk Jake. 
“Sweets,” there was a tone in his voice. A tone that you couldn’t quite place but it wasn’t his normal arrogant one. “What did I say to you last night?” You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. This was the last kind of conversation you wanted to have. It was one thing for you to decide in your own head that Jake wanted you for nothing more than your body, but it would be an entirely different thing for you to hear it out of his own mouth. It would solidify that you were just a conquest for him, that you were like every other woman he chased.
You shrugged, trying to continue acting like it was really no big deal. “Nothing I took to heart, just told me you wanted to make me your girl and that I’d make a good mama to our babies.” Saying the words out loud made your stomach fill with butterflies. “You were drunk though, I’m sure it was just the whiskey talking.”
A thick silence hung in the air as you plated the food for him. You’d made enough in case he woke up. With as nice as his physique was you weren’t even sure he ate greasy breakfast like this, but you know they always made you feel better after a night out. With as quiet as everything was right now you didn’t have much of an appetite. Again you had expected him to laugh it off but he didn’t. Instead he looked at you with these sweet eyes. Looking both like your brush off of his admittal had hurt him and made him realize he wasn’t trying hard enough. 
Jake swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “It wasn’t the whiskey talking sweets.” Your hand froze mid air, a piece of perfectly cooked bacon between your fingers. 
“Jake you don’t date. You wham, bam, thank you ma’am.” You swallowed just as hard as he had a second ago.
“Those women weren’t you, Y/N.” He used your actual name and you felt your heart skip a beat. Jake never called you by your real name. Hell, he called you sweets so much you sometimes wondered if he had forgotten your actual name. In a few strides he’d moved around to the side of the kitchen island you were on. His hand came up and with his index finger he tilted your head up to look at him. “I don’t remember saying it to you last night, but just know I meant every word.” His tone was so sincere, how could you not believe him? But how could you at the same time?
You turned away from him, trying to settle your mind and your heart at the same time. There was no way this was happening. Thank god you had the day off work, because you would need it to recover from whatever the fuck was happening right now. 
“Hey, look at me sweets,” his hands landed on your hips, turning you to fully face him. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Resistance felt futile at this point, but you were still trying hard to resist. 
“Jake, you can’t be serious?” The aviator cocked an eyebrow at you, coaxing you to continue. “You could have your pick of available women out here and you want me?” 
He started to laugh and you felt sick to your stomach. You knew it was too good to be true, Jake didn’t want you in that way. The notion wasn’t as comforting as you thought it would have been and you wished he would stop laughing at the whole thing. 
Jake finally took notice of the pained look on your face and his laughter was cut short. One of his arms snaked around your waist and the other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Sweets, you don’t see yourself properly and I promise if you give me a chance I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how fuckin’ special you are.” You searched his eyes, looking for any hint that this was all fake. Though, you hadn’t found one yet so you weren’t sure why you thought you’d find one now. 
On its own accord your head started to nod up and down. It took your brain a moment to catch up and by the time it did you knew you couldn’t take it back. Jake looked like it was Christmas morning and he got the bike he’d been begging for all year long. He looked so happy, there was no way you could take this away from him. 
“I’ll give you a chance, but Jake Seresin I swear the second you hurt me even a little it’s over.” You wouldn’t let another pretty boy military man break your heart again. Not after how bad the last one had been.
Jake’s grin only grew and he lifted you up, spinning you around in the kitchen. The action made you giggle and the pilot had to fight to keep himself from getting down on one knee.
“Don’t worry sweets, I got lots of plans for us.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you felt like you could melt right then and there.
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marie-swriting · 5 months
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What If - Jake "Hangman" Seresin
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Masterlist
Summary : After having an accident, Jake wants to live in the moment even more and take your relationship a step forward, but do you ?
Warnings : Bradshaw!Reader (Reader is Bradley's younger sister by two years), mention of plane accident, mention of deaths (parents and best friend), fear of losing loved ones, proposal, angst, sad ending, implied struggling with mental health, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.
Word count : 4.6k
French version
Song inspiration : Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift
You run in the hospital hallways, searching for room 322. Your anxiety increases with every step you take. Your destination seems unreachable. Your eyes are filled with tears but you hold them back. However, the second you walk through the door 322, they run free on your cheeks. Seeing Jake’s body laying down on the bed, hurt, doesn’t help to reduce your stress. Hearing you walking in the room, Jake gives you a big smile as if he didn’t almost die the day before. You get closer to him, examining him a bit more while wiping your cheeks. His left arm is in a sling, his head is bandaged and he has several cuts on his face.
“So, I heard you like bad boys,” Jake starts with a cocky smile, “is this good enough for you?”
“Jake, this is not the time to make jokes. You could have died!” you retort, sitting on the chair next to his bed.
“And I didn’t. I’m here and alive.”
“And hurt.”
“The fact is I’m alive. Thanks to your brother.” he specifies, showing Bradley with his chin.
“At least, we now know who is the best pilot.” your brother jokes.
“In your dreams, Rooster, I just wanted to test your ability to react quickly.”
“You’ll do your pissing contest later, tell me how you’re feeling.” you ask, still panicked.
“I’m fine. I almost don’t feel anything thanks to the meds. Y/N, I am fine, really.” Jake promises you, taking your hand with his right one.
“I’m gonna leave you alone.” Bradley informs you by pressing your shoulder. “Get some rest, Hangman.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Jake says once you’re alone.
“Trust me, it’s not just worrying. I really thought… For a moment, I was sure…” you stutter, a tear rolling down your cheek again.
“I know, I’m sorry. Come here.” he invites you, moving in the best way so you can lie down.
“No, I might hurt you.”
“I don’t care.”
Reluctantly, you get closer to the bed. You think of the best way you could get in bed without hurting him. Jake rolls his eyes before dragging you towards him with his abled arm. You find yourself next to him and you put your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his natural scent and the hospital.
“Don’t ever do that again. I can’t lose you.” you mutter.
“You won’t lose me. I promise.” Jake affirms, forcing you to look at him. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, Jake.”
You give a small smile then you press your lips against Jake’s. Your kiss isn’t as passionate as it could be, yet it shares all the love you feel.
Once the night comes, you refuse to leave Jake. You literally beg the nurses to let you stay the night. At first, they insist on you leaving, nonetheless when you explain how scared you were to lose your boyfriend and how you can only stay in San Francisco for two days due to your job, they accept. Therefore, you’re currently on the chair in the corner of the room with a thin blanket. Jake wanted you to stay with him on the bed but you said you wouldn’t, you are afraid you might hurt him while sleeping. Your unimportant argument lasted thirty minutes but you stood your ground until the end.
Tired because of his medicines, Jake fell asleep in a few minutes. As for you, you stay awake, watching his chest rise and fall at the rhythm of his breaths. You don’t dare to look away, fearing that by doing so, he might stop respiring. 
Notwithstanding, with the hours passing by and with all the emotion you felt, Morpheus comes to embrace you in his arms. At first, your sleep is relaxing though as soon as you start dreaming, your breathing quickens. You see Jake lying on the ground unconscious, you hear your own heart-rending scream when Bradley tells you about an accident, you smell the rain while the coffin sinks in the ground, you touch the tears on your fingers whilst you’re wiping your cheeks and finally, you feel your own heart that seems like it stopped beating in your chest. 
You wake up jumping at that last sensation. You calm down your breathing while you stare at Jake, wanting to make sure he’s still alive in his hospital bed. You can’t see his chest moving, you panic then you stand up from the chair and run to him. Jake lightly opens the mouth before closing it several times and then changing position in the bed. Seeing him moving makes you sigh in relief. 
Jake is okay. Jake is alive. Jake is not dead. Jake will not die.
No matter how many times you repeat those sentences like a mantra, your anxiety still doesn’t leave your body. Tears threaten to really stream down your face so you discreetly leave the room. Thankfully, the corridor is empty, allowing you to cry your eyes out. You hold back sobs as much as you can. If you sobbed, you would wake Jake up for sure.
You need a moment to calm down your tears. Seeing Jake hurt because of his work in the Navy overwhelmed you so much for several reasons. The first one being because you love Jake and you don’t want to lose him. The second one is because of the buried memories. Your dad died when you were still a baby and Bradley was only two. You don’t have memories of him but you know how much his death affected your mom. The loss of your father isn’t the only one haunting you. You also lost your best friend Lucy. You had been friends with her since you were four years old. You were inseparable until she enlisted in the army and died at twenty. 
Receiving Bradley’s call about Jake gave you a glimpse of what your mother and Lucy’s mom went through, a trial you always hoped you’d never face.
Once you're sure you won’t fall apart, you go back in the room. By some miracle, Jake didn’t hear you leaving or entering, probably because of the medicine - normally, he’s a light sleeper. You walk back to the chair and stay awake the whole night, you don’t want to sit through another tragic scenario made by your brain.
The next day, you stay with Jake until the evening. You don’t want to leave him behind in the hospital, however, you have work so you don’t have a choice. Bradley promises you he’ll stay with Jake until his family comes during the week-end and he’ll keep you updated on Jake’s health. You only trust Bradley for this, you know Jake might not tell you everything to not worry you.
When you’re back home, you find your apartment dull. What is supposed to make you feel better can’t comfort you whilst in your mind, you get more lost in your deepest fears. The fact you’re in the process of moving out doesn’t help. 
Jake and you are supposed to get a small house together. You should have the keys in two weeks, his deployment was supposed to be over by then. A few days ago, you were still looking forward to leaving your apartment and living with the man you love and now, you don’t know anymore.
Your relationship has always been exceptional, not only because he’s a good man but also considering that, before him, you wouldn’t allow yourself to date an army man. You always knew your mother as a half empty shell so you always wanted to protect yourself from the same deadly fate and the loss of Lucy didn’t help either. You’re already worried about losing your brother and Maverick, whom you consider as your uncle, you don’t want to risk losing your partner, too. Therefore, you had always refused to fall in love with a man like this. Before, you could do it until Jake appeared in your life; just like his personality, his entrance in your life was loud. You tried to resist it but your heart didn’t give you a choice so, for the first time, you broke your own rule. Your relationship with Jake is the most beautiful one you’ve ever had and you have no regrets about it. You used to have no regrets about it. His accident was a good reminder of how dangerous his job is. 
Until you came home, you tried to shut down your fears and your doubts though, now, in your half-empty apartment, you can’t ignore it anymore. That night, you can’t sleep, your mind too busy to torture you.
Unfortunately for you, your mind doesn't give you one second of peace. The following days, you doubt your whole relationship with Jake, imagining the worst case scenarios in which he’d die during several milestones : your first house together, your wedding, pregnancies, anniversaries. The list never seems to end. You can’t be optimistic about it. You’re completely lost in your worries to the point where you end up living like a robot. You’re making yourself sick while anticipating the worst.
Your downward spiral is interrupted a week later by a knock on your door one morning. At first, you ignore the noise, comfortably staying in your discontent. However, when the person insists, you leave your bed and open them, not without sighing, annoyed. You’re about to tell the person to leave but the presence of Jake stops you. He wasn’t supposed to come back to San Diego right now and yet, here he is, in front of you, a big smile on his face and his left arm still in the sling and his wounds on his face starting to fade.
“Jake? What are you doing here? You still need to rest!”
“I know, I wanted to see you though and I couldn’t wait so I took the night train at the last minute. Can I come in?” Jake asks and  you let him in, still surprised.
“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come during the weekend.”
“I wanted to surprise you. You’re okay ? You look under the weather.” he observes, stroking your cheek.
“I should ask you this, you’re the one who almost died not even a week ago.” you answer, taking his hand in yours.
“I’m better, Y/N. Even Bradley told you so. The recovery is gonna be long but I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I love when you go all mother hen. It’s cute.” he says, kissing your cheek and you let go of a laugh.
“You’re an idiot. Let’s go to the living room.” you invite him, starting to walk. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No. I just want to talk to you.” Jake informs you.
“About what?”
You frown when he prevents you from sitting on your couch. He slowly strokes your hand before taking a deep breath.
“Look, you know I always try to enjoy the present and with this accident, it really made me realise how precious what we currently have is. I don’t want to waste any seconds, I want to enjoy every moment with you. There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a moment now but I would keep telling myself it might be too early so I always pushed it back then I talked about it with my mom and she convinced me to jump in with both feet.”
“Jake, what do you mean?” you question, stress twisting your stomach.
“Y/N,” Jake resumes, looking deeply in your eyes, “since the second I saw you, I knew you were the woman made for me. I knew you were worth the fight, even if, at first, you wouldn’t pay attention to me. You’re the most intelligent, funny, compassionate and beautiful woman I know. We will have our own house soon and I can’t wait to reach this milestone with you but I’d love for us to reach another one.” he confesses, putting one knee down and your eyes are wide open.
“Jake.”
“Y/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
“Wh-what ?” you stutter and Jake nervously laughs.
“Will you marry me?”
“Are you serious?” you question, dropping his hand.
“Huh, yes, I even have the ring.” he specifies, taking out the ring from his pocket, “Though I gotta admit, I think of saying it’s just a joke right now, you’re making me nervous.”
“I’m just surprised. I don’t know what to say.” you defend yourself.
Your eyes are set on Jake’s ring. You’ve seen it before. He’d shown it to you the day you first met his parents a year ago. It’s his great-grand-mother’s ring. It’s simple but you find it beautiful.
“It’s easy, say yes or no.” Jake replies with an anxious smile.
“Jake, we’ve only been together for two years.” you argue and Jake stands up.
“We don’t have to get married next year. We can be engaged for several years. We can wait before calling each other husband and wife, but I have to admit I’d love to, at least, call you my fiancée.”
“Jake, I can’t.” you end up saying.
“What, do you have a first husband in your attic or something?” Jake laughs and you see the panic in his eyes.
“No, I can’t marry you.”
Your sentence sounds like a fatal blow in Jake’s ears. He stays silent, staring at you without understanding what’s going on. He gets a grip on himself when his phone rings in his pocket. Jake knows it’s his mom. She knew he was going to propose today and she is impatient to call you her daughter-in-law. However, it looks like it won’t be the case. Jake opens his mouth several times before managing to utter something:
“What? Why?”
“I… I can’t.”
“But I love you, we love each other. You love me, right?” he asks, doubtful.
“Of course I love you, Jake, more than I ever loved before.” you promise him, making him frown.
“What’s the problem then?”
“I don’t want to marry you.”
If your first refusal already seemed awful to him, the sentence you just said is the final blow. The fact that you don’t want to marry him breaks his heart. He’s lost. It was supposed to be a joyful moment and yet, the ground is falling apart under him.
“What? Did something happen? Did I do something? I… I thought everything was fine between us.”
“It is.”
“Y/N, you have to stop being vague, I don’t understand anything.” he retorts with a strong tone. “What’s going on?”
“You should leave.”
“No, We have to talk about it. You can’t tell me you love me then tell me you don’t want to marry me. Talk to me, Y/N, you have to talk to me. Give me a reason, at least.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” you answer, avoiding his eyes.
“If you explained to me, maybe I’d understand. Are… Are you breaking up with me? Is that why you haven’t been calling me lately?” he questions, desperately searching for an explanation for your behaviour.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot and I think it’s best if we stop right now. I’m sorry, Jake, but I can’t keep being with you. You’ll find someone with whom you’ll share your life with and who will want to marry you.”
“I want it to be you.” he says with a weak tone, tearing up.
“Jake, please.”
“Very well then.” Jake accepts, hurt in his eyes.
Jake turns around and at the rhythm of his steps, your heart breaks whilst you’re looking at him walking to the door. You begged him to leave and yet, you only want to scream at him to come back to you and to hold you in his arms while you apologise. Yet, you stay silent. Jake doesn’t look back when he closes the door.
Once you’re alone, you fall down on your couch. In your head, you convince yourself it’s the best decision. After all, you should feel relieved, now, you don’t have to worry about losing Jake because of his job anymore. Nevertheless, your mind is not calm. You don’t know which way to turn but for different reasons. You wish it was different, it was easier, he had another job, you weren’t afraid. You spend the night crying while removing every trace of Jake in your apartment and unpack some boxes. You have to move on right now before you lose yourself a bit more.
You haven’t talked to Jake for three weeks. He tried to contact you but you ignored every one of his calls. He first wanted to fix your relationship before understanding it was too late, though he wants explanations, explanations you keep for yourself. You don’t want to tell him, you know it’s ridiculous. Why end a relationship given a potential “what if” when everything is fine? However, you also know if you had moved ahead with Jake, you would have ended up sabotaging your relationship. Technically, it’s what you did though at least, you didn’t have to call lawyers to leave his life.
Bradley tried to call you, too, and just like for Jake, you ignored him. Jake probably told him about your break up and Bradley, always being the honourable man, wants to fix the situation. Except the situation can’t be fixed. You don’t want to fix the situation.
When you come back from work that day, you’re surprised to discover your brother at your doorstep. Without thinking, you run in his arms. Sure, you’ve been ignoring him lately but you missed him. The last time you saw each other, you were too focused on Jake to pay attention to him. He holds you in his arms and strokes your back. As soon as you break your embrace, you let Bradley in. You go to your kitchen while talking about banality. Whilst walking, Bradley pays attention to your apartment and notices there isn’t a picture of Jake anymore. Once you’re sitting at the table, you stay silent, waiting for who will be the first to talk about the subject.
“We should talk about the elephant in the room, don’t you think?” Bradley says after a few minutes.
“There’s nothing to say.” you retort, tensed.
“Y/N, you threw away a two years relationship for no reason.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Which are? Jake is probably curious to know them.”
“If you came here to make things better, you’re wasting your time, Brad’.”
“You can’t act like that and expect to not justify yourself. You were happy with Jake, you love him and you broke up without giving a warning. I have to admit when he told me you refused his proposal, I was shocked. I thought you were gonna say yes without hesitating.”
“You knew?”
“He asked me before coming here. I confess, I laugh at him, I didn’t expect him to ask for your hand or give me a heads-up, like he said.” Bradley informs with a smile, thinking back to the memory. “Everything was good between you two, wasn’t it? So why?”
“It’s better like this. He’ll have a wife who knows how to stay and I won’t suffer.”
“Wait, is all of this because of the parents and Lucy?” he questions, understanding the reason. “You’re still with this stupid no-dating-army-guy rule? I thought we were over with it! Y/N, you can’t ruin your life just because you’re scared.”
“I don’t want to end up like mom! You can’t blame me! We were kids but you can’t deny there was a before and an after with mom. She wasn’t laughing like she used to, she wasn’t smiling like she used to. She was the shadow of her former self. I don’t want to go through this if Jake were to die.” you confess.
“It’s because of his accident, isn’t it?”
“It reminded me he could die at any given moment with his work.”
“Just like he could die off-duty. He can have an accident, have a heart attack, choke while eating. You don’t know what will happen in the future. You can’t condemn yourself ‘cause you’re too afraid he might die while flying. It’s ridiculous.” Bradley affirms, resolutely.
“I’m already afraid of losing you and Mav’ and I already lost Lucy and we lost dad, I don’t want Jake to join this list. Can’t you really blame me? I’d rather protect myself by not being afraid everytime my boyfriend goes to work.”
“Let’s imagine the worst were to happen, don’t you think it’d be better to think you spent every second with him? You’d rather live with regrets? You’d rather break your own heart?”
“At least, I know why I’m hurting.”
“Y/N, you have to think about it again.” he sighs. “You have to get out of your head that the worst will happen. You can’t prevent yourself from being happy because of what could happen. You deserve a beautiful life and to be with Jake. I never saw you this happy before and it kills me to see you throw it away because you’re scaring yourself.”
“The problem is I can’t help it,” you start with trembling lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it when we first got together then it got better. However, since his accident, it’s been worse. Since your call, I keep imagining what could have happened and what could happen and I’m tired of it, Bradley. I’ll never get rid of it and I hate it but that’s how it is. Believe me, if I could change, I’d do it right now, but I can’t.”
Bradley hugs you as soon as he sees you crying. He holds you against him until your tears stop a few hours later. His heart aches seeing you hurting this much. He knows you’ve always been more affected by your father’s death. Being the youngest, the emptiness you feel about your dad has always been stronger. It got worse with Lucy’s death. That day, Bradley really saw you get broken. He hated every second of this moment of your life. He hates seeing suffering like you currently are. Several times, Bradley tried to help you, he advised you to go see a professional but you’ve always refused. Until now, he had hoped your fears would ease with time, yet, your relationship with Jake just proved him it got worse and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely distraught whilst he keeps holding you against him, hoping to give you some kind of comfort. 
Two months have passed since your break up. You take it day by day to heal your broken heart. Bradley tries to stay with you as much as he can while Jake isn’t surrounded by anyone. He prefers to wear a mask and pretend your negative answer isn’t hurting him. Nevertheless, the second he’s home alone, his mask falls and he allows himself to feel all his pain. Jake, who has always done it, manages to fool everyone with his fake cocky smile. Almost everyone. Coyote sees right through him.
That night is no exception. Sitting at the counter in the Hard Deck, Jake is drinking his third alcoholic drink. Jake has isolated himself from the rest of the Dagger Squad, saying he’s tired and wanted to be alone. Though, Javy doesn’t let him be in the doldrums. He sits on the stool next to Jake and orders a beer from Penny. Coyote gives him some minutes of peace before speaking.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Coyote doesn’t even need to specify for Jake to understand. Your relationship has been a taboo subject for two months.
“Not really.” Jake says, taking a sip.
“You should.” he replies while Penny hands him his beer. “Do you at least know why she made this decision?”
Jake didn’t tell anyone the reason for your fallout. He feels humiliated enough by your harsh refusal to his proposal, he wants to bury the end of your relationship and never talk about it again. Though Javy is right, Jake knows he has to open up.
“Rooster talked to her. Turns out she doesn’t want to marry me because she’s scared I might die on-duty.”
“Did your accident scare her that much?” Javy questions, taken aback.
“It was the final straw but she’s always been scared apparently. I mean, I suspected it, you know, seeing what we do for a living, it makes sense. She also lost her dad and her best friend in similar circumstances. The problem is I didn’t know those deaths affected her that much. Anyway, there is nothing else to say.”
Coyote doesn't say anything for a moment, taking in the information and the way might have felt when he learned them.
“Well, she would have made such a lovely bride. What a shame she’s fucked in the head.” he says, ignoring what else to say.
“She suffered and she doesn’t want to go through this pain again, we can’t blame her. I’m not saying she should stay lost in her fear, it’s not healthy though, I get why she does.” Jake states before taking a deep breath and finishing his drink in one go. “I just wish she would trust our love more than her fears.”
Once he comes home, Jake sits down on his couch, sighing loudly. He runs a hand on his face, emotionally drained. As soon as his hand lands on his thigh, his eyes find a picture hung beside his TV that he didn’t have the strength to remove. It’s a photo he took at the beginning of your relationship, more precisely the day you told each other ‘I love you’ for the first time.
You had spent the day at the beach during summer. The sun was setting down whilst you were laughing at a stupid sentence Jake had said. He had stopped laughing before you, admiring you while you tried to calm your laughter. Then, Jake had looked deeply in your eyes and he had said those three words so simple and yet, so powerful. You had replied the following second with a big smile on your face. Before leaving the beach, Jake had asked to immortalise this moment. Thinking back on it, it was cliché and cheesy but Jake didn’t care. For you, he would have done the most cliché gestures if it could make you break a smile.
Jake keeps staring at the picture, your relationship running in his head. Without noticing it, he tears up before the tears stream down his face. It’s the third time he cries since your break up. The first time, it was the night of the proposal after he went home and the second time, when Bradley explained to him the reason behind your ‘no’.
Jake has never been good with his emotions. Between his education and his work in the army, he’s never learned to put words on his pain and to accept being vulnerable. With you, he had succeeded to understand himself better and to open up. It was still complicated despite two years together but he had improved. Now, he is back to square one. He’s back to his shell, running away from his emotions. Though, it doesn’t mean his mind isn’t haunted by 'what if's. What if he never had this accident? What if he had seen right through your fears sooner? What if he had managed to reassure you? What if he had managed to convince you to get the help you need? What if everything was different?
As for you, the questions are similar. Every night, you torture your own mind before crying yourself to sleep whilst looking at the spot where there once was the picture of your first ‘I love you’ before you ripped it off from your bedroom wall just like you ripped off both of your hearts from your chest.
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goldustwomun · 2 years
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soul meets body (b.b.)
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BASED ON THIS REQUEST...
pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x gf!reader
summary: you begin to question whether there’s something wrong with you when bradley refuses to touch you, little did you know you’d got it all wrong.
warning: smut, obviously; masturbation, fingering, lots of sweethearts, some jokes; it wouldn’t be my writing if there wasn’t angst so prepare yourself; but a whole lot of fluff & praise to top it all off <3
wc: 3.6k+
note: this is based off of the above request!! fair warning, this is unedited, but it’s my first ACTUAL attempt at smut so be kind xx i literally intended for this to be a short blurb but it ended up being a monster of a oneshot so please enjoy & reblogs are much appreciated :))
update: finally edited :)
REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Check my rules before hand!
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“Where are you going?” 
“Somewhere! Anywhere!” you hurtled back, rifling through your closet for a pair of trousers or sweatpants or–  fuck, anything that you could wear to walk out of the door in a more decent state than you currently were, legs on display in the baby tee and frilly panties you had on.
You’d hoped the (admittedly scandalous) look would have tempted him, even a little bit, to place his hands on you. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere and all you did was kiss for a bit – you needed something, anything, and it was driving you crazy.
He’d been avoiding you like a plague anytime you tried to initiate something, whenever your hand crept a little too high on his thigh to be deemed appropriate, or you shuffled back into him when you were in bed together so your hips were pressed close. But he always came up with an excuse – either tired or busy or just not feeling it. 
So you were done – done humiliating yourself in front of the one person you used to feel the most comfortable with.
“Sweetheart, stop that,” he chided, voice soft and pleading. He stood by your side, watching as you shoved your foot into the wrong pant hole. Bradley couldn’t help but laugh, hiding behind his fist as you stumbled in between your angry movements, but your hard glare shut him up quick enough as he mumbled a stuttered apology.
“Will you tell me why you’re angry? What did I do?” he asked, and you pointedly ignored him, instead choosing to flip him off as you finally buttoned your jeans and turned towards his room door. You hated how he spoke to you, like you were a little child pouting at the cookie jar. 
You’d been spending the weekend at his place like you had countless times before, already having moved some of your necessities into his cupboards and by his sink. There were glimpses of your relationship all over his apartment, and all it did was make you want to rage harder every time you stumbled across them. 
“Come on, sweets, please,” he begged once more before sighing defeatedly and grabbing your arms so you’d have no choice but to look at him, explain what it was that had caused such a sudden outburst. 
You finally met his stare, taking in his dishevelled state – hair pointing in every direction and unzipped pants that you’d tried to get down minutes earlier. The two of you were curled up on his bed, watching a film like you always did on a Sunday night. Only, Bradley was highly invested in Maria’s singing of “Do, a deer, a female deer” to the Von Trapp children (you had put on ‘The Sound of Music’), but your mind had travelled elsewhere. 
You’d let the hand that was resting on his clothed stomach wander, just a little lower as you traced lazy circles into the soft material of his t-shirt. You thought you were being at least minutely discreet as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, mouthed kisses into the sensitive skin there. He’d squeezed your barely-covered hip in admonishment, but it only motivated you to try harder. 
Slipping your hand lower, you unzipped his pants, propping yourself up onto your elbow as you breathed, all sultry and hot, into his ear, “Bradley, please, I want you.” You’d thought it was quite good, had read and watched enough to know it was what guys liked to hear. But rather than throw you down on the bed and take you like you wanted, he’d clammed up instead, sputtering on about how he “didn’t think that was a good idea.” 
So here you were, caged in by his long limbs and silently fuming. “What did I do?” he repeated. There was a hardness in his voice that told you he wasn’t in the mood for excuses this time. You’d just have to embarrass yourself a little more. 
“Is there something wrong with me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. If you said it any louder, you were certain you’d erupt into mortified flames. 
“What?” He was looking at you funny, like you’d grown a head or two in the time it took for you to speak.
“I said, is there something wrong with me?” You were more annoyed than upset now, hating that you had to repeat such ugly thoughts of yours. 
“No! God, no. Why would you even think that?” His hands moved to hold your face, rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin of your cheeks. 
“Because you won’t touch me!” you fired back, hating how he’d easily smothered the fire burning inside of you with such little effort. When it came to him, you had no control over yourself. You were like pliant putty, melting in his palms the moment he got close. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me for weeks, and– and– you just won’t! It’s like I’m diseased or something, Bradley, and I swear I’m fucking not!” 
You were breathing hard, all furrowed brows and pouting mouth. He didn’t say anything in defense of himself and his stupid, infuriating actions, so you continued. “So if I’m not diseased, there must be something else wrong with me, and I’d really like you to explain because it’s getting to be fucking exhausting, and humiliating, considering how much I’ve thrown myself at you!” 
He was shaking his head at you and you were struck by the urge to slap the crooked smile off of his perfect face. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. You’re fucking beautiful, way out of my league, even. I mean, look at you,” he cooed, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You were so, utterly, completely tense by then that you felt the aftershock of his lips zap right between your thighs.
You were fucked. 
Except, not really. 
“So then why won’t you–”
“Because you’ve never had sex before, and I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be as close to perfect as I could get because you deserve it.” Now it was his turn to flush red out of embarrassment, like he couldn’t believe he’d just admitted his scheme to you. 
“I– What?” 
“I had it all planned out. Our anniversary is coming up soon, and I have some time off then, so I was going to make dinner, put on a movie, dim the lights a little – speaking of, I was going to install a light dimmer! Looked up how to and everything,” he vented. “I wanted– I want your first time to be something worth remembering.”
You grinned up at him, rising to the tips of your toes as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring the two of you closer. You kissed him long and slow as his own hands dropped to grip your waist. When you broke apart, finally needing air before one or the both of you passed out, you laughed at the confused look on his face.
It wasn’t every day that you had Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw at a loss for words.  
“So… you’re not mad?” he offered, pecking your cheek. 
“Me? Mad? Of course I still am, but I get it,” you replied, unwinding one of your hands to rest on his chest. “But listen to me carefully, Bradley, because I’m only going to say this once.” He nodded, the picture of concentrated seriousness. “I don’t need dinner, a movie, or dimmed lights. I don’t need something special or pre-planned or whatever you deem to be perfect for me. 
All I need is you. I’ll only ever need and want you,” you spoke the words against his lips, fingers already trailing down his front once more to tug at the loose waistband of his unzipped jeans.
“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, sweetheart, I can do that for you.” He hurtled into action as he kissed you hard and fast, shuffling forward until the back of your legs hit the bed. His hands were in your hair, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you couldn’t help but curl your toes every time he moaned into you, feeling the vibrations rocket through your body. 
Bradley shoved you back until you fell against his covers. You laughed at how rushed his movements were, like if he didn’t feel your skin against his soon, he’d collapse in a whimpering heap. 
“I fucking love you, you know that right?” He undid the buttons of the obnoxious Hawaiian-printed shirt he had on, throwing it behind your head. He crawled onto his knees, caging you in with his arms and rock-solid body as he left sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collarbones. 
You were already shaking with anticipation. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone this far with him – you were a virgin, not virginal. But something about the way he kissed you, touched you, the visceral electric charge in the air – it felt different, and it felt fucking amazing. 
“Want these off you,” you mumbled against his lips, pushing his jeans as far down his hips as you could reach. He groaned in agreement, the two of you tearing a part so he could kick them off whilst you tugged your t-shirt off, nipples perking at the cool air. 
Bradley’s eyes widened at the sight before him: stretched out in front of him, you lay waiting, in nothing but your panties with miles of skin on display for him to bite, kiss, suck. 
He was in heaven, and he wanted to take you there, as well. 
Sure, he was staring at you, just about devouring you by sight alone, but you couldn’t get enough of him either, had already reached down between you to slip your fingers under your panties, stroke, slow and deep, against your clit. It took a moment for Bradley’s brain to catch up as he watched you, mouth hung open – either in shock or amazement, you couldn’t quite tell. 
“Fuck. That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praised, swiping your hair out of your face as he leaned forward to get a better look at your fingers working against yourself. You were moaning loud, now, crying out his name like a prayer. “Get yourself nice and wet, and I’ll see what I can do about that ache between your legs,” he promised with a short kiss on your lips. 
You nodded, stupidly enthusiastic, tugging your underwear down to be tossed aside so that you were bare underneath him. He swore under his breath, ducking his head down to nip at the skin around your nipples before tugging it into his mouth. He sucked and sucked and sucked and – fuck, you could come like this. 
“You gonna come, sweetheart? I haven’t even touched you yet, not really.” His voice was deliciously taunting and you did your best to shoot him your meanest glare, but it was hard considering how much you were shaking, hand moving faster and faster as your slick dripped down your trembling thighs. 
“Fuck– Fuck– Fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut. Your unoccupied hand grabbed onto Bradley’s bicep, nails digging crescents into his skin – you wanted to see constellations all across his body by the time the two of you were done. 
And you were there, almost. Teetering at the pinnacle of a precipice that you knew would be worth it once you were on the other side, but your mind was going numb and your wrist was starting to get tired, so you pouted up at the fixated man above you, might have begged in between your mindless moans. 
The next thing you knew was your hand had been nudged to the side, and Bradleys fingers slipped between your folds, collecting the juices there before fucking them back inside you. You were going to combust, you were sure of it. Fuck constellations on his skin because you were already seeing them against your eyelids as your fingers struggled to remain still, your hips bucking off his mattress the moment his thumb joined in on the fun, pressing against the tight bundle of nerves you could feel throbbing alongside your heartbeat. 
You came on his fingers in no time, the two of you panting, hot breaths mingling between you. Bradley leaned down, nipped at your bottom lip as your mouth was left open, too exhausted to even think. He held the glistening tips of his fingers, drenched in your slick, up to your face. Your eyes opened in time to watch him slip them into his mouth, groaning at the heady taste of you, you, you.
“I love you,” you croaked, surging forward to melt against him as you licked into his mouth, tasting all of yourself on his tongue. 
“Fuck, that was hot.” His voice was rough like gravel and it grated against your skin in a way you’d never experienced before. You squirmed beneath him, snapping the waistband of his briefs against his hip bone. 
“Off,” you commanded, determined to not let the momentum wane. He raised his brow at you, never having heard you so defiant, especially not when the two of you were in bed. You leaned up on the palm of your hand, the other tilting his head to the side as you sucked bruises into his chest, into his collarbone, up his neck. “Please,” you added sweetly, not stopping your attack on his skin. 
“Jesus fucking christ– I’ll take them off but you’ll have to stop, sweets,” he grumbled, not entirely wanting you to stop but knowing it was only going to get better. You relented, toppling back with a huff as he stood up and off the bed, pushing his briefs down. 
Your gaze went straight to his cock. You could see where the precum was shining against the purple tip, traced your stare across the throbbing vein that ran down its side, mouth watered at the tufts of neat hair at the base. You were screwed.
“That is the plan,” he pointed out, a cheeky grin plastered to his face. You must have said out loud and you retaliated with a kick to his exposed chin. He caught your ankle before you could make contact, clicking his tongue at your inability to sit still. “I won’t fuck you if you don’t play nice,” he scolded, tone unforgiving as he dropped your ankle and instead, reached into his bedside drawer to pull out a condom.
He looked you in the eye as he ripped the packet open, rolling it down his prick in smooth and precise movements. Like before, you really think you could come just watching him. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and this wasn’t the first time you found yourself thanking whatever higher power there was out there for letting you be this damn lucky. 
Bradley placed his knee onto the bed, assessing the situation. His cock bobbed, you could tell it was painful from the way his hands were balled in fists and how deep his breathing was, like he was trying to force his body to slow down, to relax – all for you.
“I think–” he cleared his throat, his nerves seeping into his words. “I think you should be on top. You’ll have more control, can stop when you want– go at your own pace,” he stated decisively before joining you on the bed. He laid back against the headboard, holding his hand out so you could slip your legs on either side of his waist. 
You didn’t sit down, not completely. “You’re sure about this?” you asked. His mouth quirked upwards as he tugged you closer, your chest falling against his. You could feel his heart hammering through his chest, through your own. 
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he shot back, palms smoothing idly up and down your hips.
“You know what I mean. We’re a partnership, you and I. I’m sure, just need to know you are as well.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. Instead, he nodded, met your mouth with his. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m yours.”
Your hands were trembling when you reached for his aching cock, sitting up on your knees, hands wrapped around the base as you angled it to your opening. You were still slick from your fingers, from Bradley’s as well, and fuck were you ready. Ready to be so utterly connected to the one person you loved, the one person who understood you, probably better than you did yourself. 
He helped you, slipping his own hand around yours as you sank down slowly. You’d barely gotten past the tip before you stopped, eyes squeezed shut, now from the pain rather than pleasure. “I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he soothed, placing barely-there kisses against your shoulder as you trembled in his arms. 
“Holy sh–shit,” you groaned, not expecting the shooting pain. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, simply holding each other. You could imagine how hard, literally, it must have been for Bradley, but he never let even a flicker of frustration cross his face. He was entirely steady, unwaveringly there for you.
You shifted on your knees, sliding an inch or two down, and Bradley halted your movement with a tight grip on your waist. “You sure you’re good. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He was searching your face for anything, everything – any sign of discomfort or regret, even if it was slight. 
“It’s– fuck– it’s fine. It hurts a little less, let’s just try,” you managed to whisper. You took the rest of him, hiding your face in his neck as you did so, as the pain tore through you from the inside out. You knew it was going to hurt but, fucking hell, they’d never mentioned this in health class. You’d had things up there, toys, your fingers, Bradley’s fingers, but this was completely foreign to you. 
Throughout it all, Bradley held you close. His words and resolute presence never wavering. And eventually, after what could have been seconds, minutes, hours – you weren’t sure, the pain lessened enough for it to almost become pleasurable. You tested the waters, pulling your hips back, then forward.
The pained groan that fell past Bradley’s hips told you all you needed to know – even if it wasn’t entirely good for you, you’d do it again if only to hear him make that noise again. “Are you okay?” you mocked, rocking your hips, again, and again, and again. He couldn’t speak, mouths forming words that never made it past his lips. His head fell back, hitting the wooden frame as his blunt nails dug into the skin of your hips, of your ass, of whatever skin he could grab onto as you rode him. 
“You’re going to– fuck– be the death of me, I– shit! – swear it,” he panted, capturing your lips in his. You continued your teasing movements for a while, relishing in the way he held you tighter, moaned louder, gaze darting across your sweat-covered body. 
“And if I did this?” you questioned, voice laced with innocent, but your actions did little to reflect that. You gripped his shoulders, raising up until his tip was barely still inside you, before sitting down completely. You gasped at that, cunt clenching around him as the first sparks of ecstasy shot through you. “Oh–”
Bradley grinned that all-consuming smile of his, bent his knees and lifted you up before bucking his hips up, into you. Your mouth fell open at the sight, couldn’t stop yourself from staring at how his cock slipped in and out of you. “You look fucking beautiful, sitting on my cock like that,” he professed, his own gaze locked at where he pounded into you. “And you’re taking me so well– knew you would.” 
“F-fuck, Bradley. I can’t– fuck! It’s too much, too much.” Your words were unintelligible as that familiar rush of heat consumed you. You could feel it spreading to the tips of your fingers, to your toes, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. 
“That’s alright, sweetheart. You’ve done so well, just let go, that’s it,” he coaxed, fingers returning to your drenched clit as his hips continued their incessant hammering, coupled with the steady strokes of his fingers. 
You quivered around him, mumbled thank-yous caught in your throat as your body arched, then collapsed into him. “I love you, sweetheart. Fuck– love you so much.” He kissed his confession into your skin, melting back into the pillow as he clutched you as close as humanly possible. 
“What about you?” You lifted your head, vision still swirling from your second orgasm. “You didn’t finish.”
“That’s okay, I’m alright,” he assured, rolling over so that he’d slip out of you. “You’re stuck with me sweets, so we have ages for you to make it up to me.”
 Bradley left a comforting kiss on your hip bone, eyes meeting yours as he did so, before he walked over to the bin to peel the glistening condom from off of him. It took him a while to find his briefs, but he eventually slid them on, before venturing into his bathroom.
You were entirely too spent to even pay attention to whatever he was doing, but soon enough, he returned with a wet towel and positioned himself at your waist.
“Just gonna clean you up, then we can sleep some more, sound good?” he offered, carefully wiping at the inside of your thighs and up your slit. He tossed the towel to a distant corner in his room before sliding under the covers, tucking you into his side.
He sighed, sleepy and content. “So, was I any good?” he prodded, smirking down at you. 
You scoffed at his easy arrogance, rolling your eyes. “You know you were, Rooster. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“Yes ma’am,” he fired back, but kissed the side of your head and relaxed into you, into your warmth. 
He wasn’t wrong. You made it up to him the next morning, and the one after that, and the other after that…
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captainsophiestark · 2 years
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Twelve-Year-Olds
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader
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Written for the Hot Writer Summer Challenge, run by @mermaidxatxheart​! Thanks again for hosting the challenge, this was super fun!
Fandom: Top Gun
Prompt/Trope: Locked in a Room
Summary: Y/N tutors Amelia Benjamin, the daughter of none other than Penny Benjamin. When Penny and Mav are away on their honeymoon, however, Y/N finally gets to meet the fourth member of their little family, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. And when he makes the mistake of calling Amelia a twelve-year-old, she takes matters into her own hands to get him back for it while ALSO getting two of her favorite people to admit their feelings for each other.
Word Count: 2,335
Category: Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"Alright, you said your brother was coming to pick you up?" I asked, helping Amelia gather her things before swinging her backpack onto her shoulder.
"Sort of. He's not really my brother, but he acts like one," she said.
"Hm. Alright..."
I didn't push for more details as we headed out of the library together. I'd been tutoring Amelia for a few months now, and we'd quickly become good friends even though I was a lot older than her. She was my favorite student I'd had to date, and I had to admit, I was a little jealous that someone else who wasn't related to her had grabbed the honorary sibling title before me.
Still, I was happy she was so happy. Her mom usually picked her up, and when her mom wasn't free her now-stepdad rolled up on his motorcycle, much to Amelia's excitement. Her mom and now-official step-dad had recently gotten married, and were currently on their honeymoon. Which left the sort-of brother to pick her up.
"You know, it's not gonna be much longer before you get your license," I mused, giving Amelia an exaggerated grin. "Pretty soon you're going to be driving yourself to and from school and tutoring and whatever else."
"Yeah, and I'm gonna steal Mav's motorcycle to do it."
"Atta girl!"
We laughed and shared a high five as we walked down the library steps. A tall, handsome man with aviators and a mustache waited, his arms crossed as he leaned against a car I recognized as Penny's Porsche.
"Hey! What are you doing with my mom's car?" Amelia called as we approached him. Apparently, this was the sort-of older brother.
"It's my payment for babysitting you while Mav and your mom are gone," he called back. "I get to drive the Porsche and the bike."
"Well that's dumb. You could've gotten cash. Put it towards buying your own bike."
He just scoffed and rolled his eyes, then looked to me as Amelia and I came to a stop in front of him. He gave me a charming smile and offered his hand for a shake.
"Rooster," he said as I took his hand.
"Y/N," I replied. "It's nice to meet you."
"You too. All this kid does is talk you up. Honestly, I've been getting a little jealous."
I smiled. "Well, don't worry, because she's been saying nothing but good things about you, too. I was actually feeling a little jealous myself."
"Well, cheers to that," he said with another gorgeous smile and a wink. We held each others' stares for a few beats, and I could feel my face heating up. We both snapped out of it when Amelia loudly cleared her throat.
"Let's go, Rooster. I'm hungry and I have stuff to do."
"Alright, alright, relax. We're going." He looked back at me again. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N."
"You too, Rooster. Maybe I'll see you around."
"Maybe you will."
He shot me one last grin as he walked around to the driver's side of the car, Amelia climbing into the passenger's side. She waved at me out the window as the pair pulled away, and I watched them disappear down the road.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then forced myself to put Rooster out of my mind. I had other things to do today besides be distracted by Amelia's handsome sort-of older brother.
************
Amelia's POV
"You think she's cute, don't you?" I asked, poking Rooster in the side as he pulled away from the library where we'd left Y/N.
"What? Amelia, come on."
I snorted. "If that's the best response you've got then you must really have a thing for her."
"I do not have a thing for her. What do you know, anyway? Aren't you like twelve?"
"I'm fifteen!"
"Same difference."
I scowled at him, but he just grinned. I huffed and crossed my arms, staring out the window instead of at Rooster. If he was going to be an idiot about it, then I was going to take matters into my own hands.
Maybe I even would've tried to loop him in if he hadn't called me twelve.
****************
Y/N's POV
I wandered into the bar owned by Amelia's mom a few weeks later, tentatively putting my head through the door first before stepping all the way inside. Amelia had asked me to do our tutoring session here today, before the bar opened, since she was apparently going sailing with her mom right after our lesson.
"Y/N!" Amelia called happily, waving me over from the far side of the bar. I smiled and walked to meet her, much more confident now that I knew I hadn't accidentally wandered in somewhere I wasn't supposed to go.
"Hey, Amelia. How's it going? This place looks great."
"Thanks," she said. "I'll tell my mom you said so."
"Where is she, by the way?"
"She's working on the boat with Mav. We're all going to sail it over to the shop later, since it needs some repairs and Maverick doesn't know how to fix boats."
"Isn't he in the navy?"
"That's what my mom always says."
We shared a laugh as I sat down next to Amelia. I unloaded all the books from my bag, setting them out in front of us, then opened the first one.
"Alright, let's get started..."
We worked for our usual hour, with Maverick and Penny breezing through a few times to say hi. I couldn't stop myself from hoping Rooster might make an appearance, but he didn't. I tried to keep myself from feeling too disappointed.
We'd seen each other a few times now, since that first meeting. Usually in the context of him picking up Amelia. Every time I saw him, my heart beat a little faster, and although we didn't really have long conversations, they were good ones. I found myself thinking about him a lot more often than I wanted to admit.
Finally, at the end of the hour, I wrapped up the lesson and Amelia and I put away all the notes and notebooks. Penny and Maverick wandered back in, both of them ready to get on the boat with Amelia now that she was free.
"I'll be right down," Amelia told her parents. "Just need to put my books away."
"Alright. We'll see you down there," said Maverick, giving me a wave as he went. Penny smiled and kissed Amelia on the head, ruffling her hair as she pulled away.
"Thanks for coming here today, Y/N," she said. "It's always a pleasure to have you around."
"It's a pleasure to be around," I replied with a smile. "I'm sure it's no secret, but I absolutely adore Amelia. She's one heck of a good kid."
"She sure is." Penny smiled fondly at her daughter, then took a few backwards steps to follow Maverick down to the boat. "We'll see you soon I'm sure, Y/N."
I smiled and waved as she went, and Amelia struggled to shove the rest of her books into her bag.
"Do you want help with that?" I asked. She huffed, tried for another minute, then shoved it towards me.
"Yes please."
I smiled and started working on the bag. Amelia shifted anxiously from foot to foot while she waited, and I could tell she was itching to get out of here and join her parents on the boat.
"You want me to put these away for you somewhere?" I asked. "If it's close, I can wrap this up and you can go help your parents."
"Yes please! Thank you so much! They go in the back closet, on the top shelf. I'll take them home later tonight, when we all get back."
"Sounds good. Have a fun trip over, and try to teach Mr. Navy something about boats while you're out there, alright?"
"Oh please," said Amelia. "He's hopeless."
I chuckled as she marched out of the room in a whirlwind. Finally, I managed to get the last of the books into the bag. I headed for the closet Amelia had pointed towards, carefully maneuvering around the crates and boxes towards the shelving in the back. I'd just reached up to put the bag on the top shelf when I heard a commotion behind me.
"Come on, Rooster, it'll just take a second!"
"Amelia, what the hell are you- Hey!"
I whirled around to find Rooster stumbling through the closet door. A look at the doorway showed Amelia standing there, apparently after shoving him, a massive grin on her face.
"Don't waste this opportunity by being stupid," she cheerfully instructed him. I started to ask what the hell she was doing, but before I could, she slammed the closet door on us. I heard the click of a lock.
A second later, Rooster was at the door, hammering at it with one fist while he tried the doorknob with the other. No luck.
"Amelia! Amelia, you get back here and open this door right now!" he yelled. As expected, he got no response.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, walking over to Rooster. He grimaced, looked at me, then turned back to the door.
"I don't know," he muttered. "Some kind of dumb prank, probably."
I put a hand on my hip and raised an eyebrow.
"Since when does Amelia pull dumb pranks?"
Rooster sighed and lowered his head before finally taking a step away from the door and looking at me. To my surprise, he had a faint blush on his neck.
"She's trying to mess with me," he finally said, running a hand through his hair. "She keeps insisting that I have a thing for you, and I called her a twelve-year-old, so... I guess this is her payback."
"Oh."
We stood there for a few beats, avoiding looking at each other, and then I took a deep breath.
"Was she right? Do you have a thing for me?" I physically cringed at the awkwardness of the question, but I had to know. Rooster's blush deepend.
"I mean, I..." he cleared his throat and fidgeted. "I definitely think you're... cute."
He immediately scrunched up his face like he was kicking himself for the words that had just come out of his mouth. I could relate.
"Well..." I managed. "I, uh... I think you're cute, too."
His head snapped up to look at me, disbelief and hope written all over his face. I gave him a tentative smile.
"You do?" I nodded. He laughed and smiled, the tension easing out of his body. I felt the tension washing out of the room. "God, look at us. We're fully grown adults stumbling over admitting a crush for each other in a closet like it's middle school. Now who's twelve?"
"I feel like Amelia was hoping we'd be at exactly this point when she shoved you in here," I agreed. He nodded, then took a deep breath.
"So... as much as I hated being called out for it, I actually have had a thing for you since that first day we met. You're smart, you're funny, you're frankly gorgeous... what more could a guy ask for?"
I smiled at the floor, trying not to combust on the spot from the compliments.
"I feel the same way," I said. After a beat, I brought myself to meet Rooster's eyes again. "You're hysterical, and I love watching how you are with Amelia. And I almost tripped down the steps you were so handsome when I first walked out of the library."
He laughed good-naturedly, a smile staying on his face as he took a few steps towards me.
"So does this mean if I ask you on a date, you'll say yes?"
"Mmm, I don't know. Give it a try and let's find out."
He grinned and took a few more steps towards me. He stopped just a few inches from me, then put his arm against the wall next to my head and leaned against it. My heart sped up.
"Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me? Like as soon as we get out of this damn closet?"
"Absolutely," I said, unable to keep a massive smile off my face. He smiled too, then pushed off the wall and headed back to the door.
"Alright, I'm getting us out of here. And then we can go grab a coffee from a nice place I know, if that sounds good?"
"That sounds great."
He shot me another smile, and my heart melted. Then, he turned to the door with determination. I could see he was about to break it down, so I quickly stepped in.
"I think I might have an easier solution," I said. He watched carefully as I took Amelia's backpack off the shelf and dug through it until I found a few spare bobby pins. I bent them into long, straight-ish tools, then moved back to the door.
"Are you about to pick the lock with bobby pins?" asked Rooster. I hummed in confirmation. "That is so badass. And so hot."
I laughed and shot him a smile over my shoulder, then went back to working on the door. I hadn't practiced my lock-picking skills since I'd been obsessed with spy novels in college, so it took me a little longer than I would've liked, but eventually the lock clicked open.
"You. Are. Amazing," said Rooster as I straightened and turned to him with a grin.
"Thank you. I try my best. Now let's go get that coffee, shall we?"
I held out a hand, and Rooster didn't hesitate before taking it. He pulled me closer to him as we stepped out of the closet and headed for the doors of the bar, and I happily leaned into him.
Amelia was never going to let it go that she was right and that she technically deserved the credit for getting us together. I quickly decided I didn't care, though. I had a good feeling that Rooster would be worth it.
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avicris918 · 8 months
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This came to me and I don't know where I want it to go. I had to post it somewhere, hopefully to get some feedback.
"You're right. Nobody will mourn me when I burn in, but that's because I've had nobody for the past 15 years. When I made the decision I did, I lost everyone. I kept a promise and in return I was left, again. Story of my life, right?"
Maverick shook his head, ridding himself of the voices starting to overtake his mind, and turned to leave the room.
Before walking out the door he stopped and said "you got everything you wanted, everyone you wanted, and yet you still hate me."
*****
Bradley was standing there, the anger still coursing through him, when Warlock came into the room.
"He's right, you know."
Rooster sighed and asked "about what?"
"For the past 15 years he's been alone. He made a decision that affected your life of course, but in doing so he effectively ruined his as well."
"How? He was still in the Navy. He was still an aviator. He still went all over the world. I was set back four years. I was stopped from doing what I'd always dreamed of doing. Yeah, I'm here now, but behind where I should be."
Warlock just stared at him, displeasure visible only to those who knew where to look for it.
"Of course, you got here. You got here with so many people backing you up. You got here with a handful of uncles willing to do anything for you. You got here with someone standing firmly in your corner, ready to fight any and all demons that came for you."
"What's your point, sir?" Frustration slipping into his voice.
"While you had all of them at your back, who did he have? The minute it became known what he had done everyone turned on him. Those who had been there through the worst of it, just left. Those who knew him better than anyone, knew he had serious abandonment issues, just turned their backs on him."
"That's not my problem."
"Of course it's not. You had people there for you; you had everyone. He's had no one in his corner for the past 15 years. Every accomplishment, every nightmare, every heartache. He's been alone. Every time he's been injured and in the hospital, he's been alone. Every near miss, he's been alone. All those times he should have had family in his corner, helping to show him there was more to his life than flying, that he was worth more than his injuries, he was alone."
Rooster didn't have anything to say.
"Every trip to the hospital he was asked if he had family or someone they could call for him, he said no. There was no one that needed to be bothered, no one would would care and come anyways. I think after his first hospital visit after everything, he just stopped trying."
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
"Five weeks after everything he was hit by a drunk driver on base. I happened to be at the hospital when they brought him in and heard them ask for numbers to call someone for him. He said he'd call from his cellphone, which surprisingly enough has t been damaged." Warlock narrowed his eyes at Rooster and he instantly knew what was coming. "He tried calling a handful of numbers to call and no one answered. He sent a couple texts and the same thing happened. I called Ice, just to see if he was busy and he answered right away, asking if everything was good. Mav saw he picked up after two rings, and after that he just stopped."
"I…. didn't….but…..why…"
"Why what? Why did he call? Why didn't he keep calling? Why didn't I say anything?"
"He could have called anyone, any of them would have been there for him."
Warlock shook his head. "But they weren't. They weren't because they were so firmly on your side because of all of your hurt, they forgot he had no one on his side. Not one of them was there for him then and since, and he doesn't expect anyone to be there for him now."
Warlock turned to leave and before walking out the door levyed this final shot at the younger man.
"I've been his NOK and POA for 15 years. I've been there, and I know he appreciates it, but the ones he loved and would do anything for, where were they? He would give up his life for his friends, for his family, but where were they? He kept a promise. He did something he knew would tear up one relationship. He did it knowing that nothing would ever be the same. But to be cut off for your entire support system, at the whims and whines of a teenager whom he loved more than life itself, that was a blow. He never thought those who loved him and cared about him and knew him, would do what was done. But they did, because of you."
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aestheticpearl · 2 years
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— 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐤
[𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫] bob floyd
[𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲]
the way bob uses his tongue on you is incredible and feels incredible for that fact— you discovered that he had this special skill when you both went out to the bar one night with him and you had given him the maraschino cherry out of your shirley temple that you got stuck with since you volunteered to be the designated driver.
he took the cherry happily and continued to chew the stem out while he played pool with the naval aviators. you watched him a little too intensely while he moved the stem between his lips; you kept imagining how amazing he would feel between your legs while his remarkable tongue worked over your very needy and aching pussy. he noticed your stares and smirked before moving the whole stem into his mouth— this seemed to break you stare out of your lewd thoughts as he handed the pool cue over to his teammate to walk over to you.
you gazed up at him has he cupped your face and kissesdyou deeply. it caught you by surprise considering bob has never been a huge fan of pda beside the occasional hand holding or quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this wasn’t like that. this kiss felt like he knew you wanted him, especially since he lightly pulled down your chin to get you to open your mouth to let him move the cherry stem into your mouth instead of his. it’s almost like he can sense your confusion and he takes the opportunity to pull away leaving you a tad breathless and gawking like an idiot at him. 
he smiles that dorky smile and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip and goes back to the game of pool, leaving you stunned and with a wet spot now forming on your panties. you try to refocus on the fact that the cherry stem is still in your mouth and you pull it out to reveal that it’s been knotted. twice. something in you starts burning and you need to get out of here, like right now.
“honey?” you walk over next to him and pull out the puppy dog eyes. “can we go home? i’m getting tired of standing here looking pretty for you” you smile sickeningly sweet at him hoping to god he gets the hint. he does.
“of course we can sugar” he says while wrapping his arm around your waist and it’s this plus the deep kiss you shared that reminds you how handsy bob gets when a couple of drinks in. “hey guys we’re gonna head out” his statement is followed by everyone telling their goodbyes and to drive safe while you leave the place a little too quickly.
the drive home is basic hell for you; you white knuckle all the way home while bob has his fingers linger on your thigh even though you’re the one driving. once it’s over you both get out of the car and you fumble through your keys trying desperately to find the right one. once the lock clicks bob is all over you, pushing you through the doorway and kicking it closed with his foot while he kisses you and any part of your exposed skin on your neck.
“what’s gotten into you honey? so bold” you say with a smile as you feel him leave marks along your neck, the sensation shoots straight to your core.
“gin and tonics” he grumbles while still attacking your neck. you giggle to yourself as you recall how many he kept downing at the bar. his hands move down to your waist and massage your hips gently, he wants you badly. he suddenly grabs your hips to hoist you over his shoulder to move to the bed faster while walking to your shared bedroom you feel a slap on your ass which makes you yelp and certainly doesn’t help your panties in become any dryer, quite the opposite.
he lays you on the bed and hikes up your cocktail dress that you’ve been wearing to expose your very soaked panties to him.
“you’ve been thinking about this just as much as me” he moves to his knees and pulls you so you’re right at the edge of the bed infront of him. he traces over the water patch you’ve created and presses lightly on your clothed clit, you let out a gasp unintentionally. he loves your reactions to his touches; he circles your clit and stands up to kiss you sweetly before asking.
“let me taste you” his words send a shiver down your spine and you quickly nod. he kisses you again before returning to his knees to pull your panties off to put them into his khaki pocket, then he just goes for it. he flattens his tongue against your aching cunt and you moan at the contact alone, you hand moves to mess up his slick backed hair and your fingers twist and tangle in his locks when he swirls his tongue around your clit already feeling your orgasm start to climb.
“h—holy fuck nghh i’m gonna—shit” you feel him dip his tongue into you and that’s when he starts circling your clit once again and you can feel your core heat up. bob holds your hips down one handed with ease to prevent you from moving while he works his magical tongue on you. it’s his moan into your pussy at pushes you over the edge and works you through it, by the end you’re a panting mess.
he pulls away and kisses the inside of your thigh before leaning over to kiss you, you can taste yourself on his tongue when you realize you haven’t helped him out at all. “shit babe take your pants off so i can return the favor”
“there’s uh really no need” he blushes a dark red and looks down at his cum stained khakis. you follow his gaze then look back up to him.
“you came in your pants just from eating me out?” he turns his head away shyly and you turn him back to face you. “that’s so hot honey” you kiss him again.
“okay let’s get you cleaned up now sugar” he says checking your cheek as he picks you up to bring you to the shower for clean up that may or may not end up being round two.
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please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄
.love always <3 pearl
.masterlist
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floydsglasses · 1 month
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𝘼 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝘼 𝙔𝙚𝙡𝙡 - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (A Quiet Place AU)
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Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x AFAB OC/ Valerie
SUMMARY: Society has fallen to ruin's where silence is key to survival in a world where most humans have been killed by blind but noise-sensitive creatures. Two unlikely survivors come across each and agree to stick together.
Tag's: Mention of blood/wounds, post apocalyptic setting, use of ASL, Alien creatures. Stranger's to Lover's, Angst, Swearing, Fluff, inacurate first aid, No Use of Y/N A/N: First Story on tumblr, I hope that I did this right and hopefully I didnt mess thing's up too much
WORD COUNT: 7,731
⏁⏁⏁
SOUND. What once was so common is now almost extinct as the human race. The birds no longer flew in the sky, car alarms didn't blast loudly with a touch of a button, soft chatter’s from conversation now replaced with howling of the wind. Everything before was so simple, it was so easy, she didn't have to worry about the sound of leaves crunching under her feet, closing a door too hard, letting out a breath too hard. Now one wrong move in this world, a person’s life is gone in less than a whisper.
Her hand’s trailed over the isles of abandoned goods, she used to love going to the supermarket, seeing people and having a nice conversation with the cashier, kind smile’s.
Now a trip into town is so dreaded, the world is so quiet and it’s almost insufferable to her. Though she would much rather prefer the silence of the world then the harsh darkness of death from the predator's who now ruled the world.
She looks down at her grocery list, written on the back of the brochure for a navel bar, The Hard Deck. Before day 1 of the end of the world, she worked at a cafeteria in a nursing home, after rough day’s she would sometime’s sit at the bar with a bottle of beer. At the moment she much preferred the sound of the man she could catch glimpses of the few night’s playing 60’s tune’s on the piano. She assumed anyone she once knew is gone now.
She slide’s the can of food into her messenger bag, making sure not to stock up too much on the cans, learning the hard way that too much noise will attract the monsters.
Her bare feet smack the ground of the white tiled floor as she turned onto the next aisle.
Food rations were running low for her, and it didn't help that nowhere was safe enough for her. Walking around a desolate San Diego without shoe’s also wasn't ideal. Pain killers, she thought .
A few weeks ago she tripped on the sidewalk, skidding her knee and thigh, not something she would recommend handling without pain killers.
The snap of glass pulls her out of her thought’s. The hair on her arm stood to attention as her heart pounded in her rib cage, eye’s widened fearfully. Her hand grazed her knife holster, gripping the ebony handle. She had never handled a weapon for the purpose of hurting another human, not before this new world began.
Her breath shake’s as she lightly step’s around the corner. Unsheathing the blade from her waist. Monster’s were not the only threat in the world, the people, rumors at least swirled of groups of people calling themselve’s Bandits ruled parts of the city. She had not ventured that far, she was hell bent on finding somewhere away from the city, anywhere that was safe.
She huffed, swinging her blade as she rounded the aisle corner. She panted, her head darting in each direction. All that remained were leaves blown in from the broken front door, a few item’s laid on the ground.
She shook her head. Paranoia much. She rolled her eye’s, putting her knife back into its holster. You know you are totally crazy. Her bare feet turned on the edge to go back to her original isle.
Her arm’s smack into a metal stand, it began to fall to the floor. She gasped quickly trying to stop its descent. Its pamphlet’s crashed with metallic bang. Her eyes widened in horror as her heart raced, blood drained from her face.
Oh God, she panicked. Roar’s in the distance began to cry out at the sound. She stood frozen in fear, panting as she desperately fought against her sense telling to hide.
She let out a gasp as she was brought to the floor. She expected to be met with darkness, her eye’s closed tight awaiting the pain from the sharp talon’s of the creature’s that ruled the quiet world.
Shhh. A voice whispered next to her ear, their hot breath sending shivers down her spine. Her heart pounded. Her back was held closely to something..someone.
Her arm’s radiated with warmth, mostly from fear. Could the stranger be holding her back so they can save their own skin, or did they have something else in mind.
No time can pass in her mind as clicking began to fill the supermarket. Footsteps heavy on the tile, a hissing sound filled the air. The stranger behind her shuddered at the sound’s, the two of them both equally fearful.
Click Click.
They sounded. The dark silhouette casted on the ceiling above them on the white bar’s. The stranger’s hand clamped over her mouth as her panting grew erratic, she stood still not daring to move, even with the tight grip around her body from the stranger.
The click’s began to get closer to them, the footsteps heavier with each step. Their dark gray skin tight as their gorilla like movement helps them traipse across the tile. Their flower-like head’s turn slowly in each direction. She guessed they were looking for any sound.
She gulped as she held her breath, restricting her air. Hoping it will limit any sound she may be making, even with the help of the person holding her. She was sure that she was louder then what she may be stopping.
On her spine, a light thump was against her back. Rhythmically repeating at a rapid pace, similar to her own.
The creature’s head twitched with each click from its mouth, searching for her. Its heavy footsteps thudded against the ground as it walked on all fours.
A single tear trailed down her cheek, the heat from the stranger’s hand made the pool of sweat on her forehead fall. With a final twitch of its head, it let out an inhuman, ear piercing roar. A swift move the monster ran out of the supermarket.
A sigh of relief left her lip’s. The calloused hand left her mouth, her shoulders relaxed briefly. Her eyes widened, she reached for the holster that held her knife. A tight grip on wrist stopped her. From the size of his hand, she could tell he was a man, one who worked with his hand’s from the vein’s that popped.
He held on tightly onto her wrist as he got to his feet. Her heartbeat had not stopped racing, adrenaline pumped through her veins. She snapped her head, she had been ready to throw insult’s in, her head at least.
She looked the man up and down. His dirty blonde hair, messy and short. His dark brown eyes scanned her, maybe he saw her as a threat. Though he clearly had a chance of overpowering her. Above his chapped lips laid a thin line of facial hair, she wondered how long it took him to grow it.
He released her hand, putting his hand’s up in surrender. “Who are you?” She signed to him frantically, he blinked at her panicked state. He shook his head.
“I'm not gonna hurt you.” He reassured her she scrunched her nose up.
“Did you follow me?” She signed slowly. He shook his head.
“I was here before you.” The man stated in sign. “Bullshit!” She signed, her brows furrowed in anger.
“I swear.” He swore. In their silent world, she was thankful that she had taken the time prior to learning ASL. She wouldn't have thought it would be useful in a post apocalyptic setting.
Her shoulders relaxed, her jaw remained clinched. “Listen, to me please.” He pleaded with her, she crossed her arms.
He bent down on his knees leaning over grabbing a blue and yellow pamphlet, the world's map of San Diego written in a white font.
He began to carefully unfold it, placing objects on the corner to keep it straightened out. He looks up at her. “Marker?” He signed.
She furrowed her brow, she shook her head no. “What are you doing?” She signed to the stranger.
“Showing you something.” He signed, he looked around at the old store, smirking. He lightly stepped across the tiled floor.
She noted the duct tape on his boot’s, tear’s and rip’s in the leather in each curve, she supposed he had placed the tape to absorb the sound, she hadnt even thought about it.
Beginning to make mark’s on the map, taking pauses to think. His lip’s formed a thin line, he looked at her.
“You see that?” He signed, she shook her head.
“The Circle’s?” She signed to him, even in sign language he could detect the sarcasm she laid on. He gesture’s with two finger’s for her to get down to his level. She bends down to her knees, getting a closer look.
“You see it now?” He signed, she shook her head. He gently grabbed her hand, using his index finger pointing to the center. A green and beige island in the ocean, half a mile from the North Island docks. Her brows furrowed.
“What is that?” She signed. He blinked. “Island, not far from the bay, safe.” He says in sign language, she shook her head.
“Nowhere is safe.” She says.
“You don't know that.” He says, he motioned in frustration. “And you do?” She pointed out.
“Come with me.” He signed, she shook her head at his offer. “No, I don't know you.” She says.
“So..we can help each other.” He tells her, she shook her head in disbelief.
“I don't need your help.” She reassured him, she had gotten pretty far into the two year’s they have been in the apocalypse. His jaw dropped slack.
“You sure?” He challenged, and she nodded her head.
“Look, I can see you don't trust me.” He signed, she shrugged in agreement.
“But If you want to not live in fear of making a noise.” He paused with his hand’s up, he breathed out quietly. Her heart skipped a beat, looking at the brown eye’s of the stranger.
“Then come with me and see if it’s true.” He says.
She crossed her arms over her chest. She eyed the broken object’s on each side of the isle’s. The man in front of her offered her safety, and it had been so long since she last talked with another human being. He had saved her from being alien bait.
“Okay.” She signed to him. He breathed in relief at agreeance.
“One condition.” She state’s, he nodded his head.
“If it turns out to be fake.” She start’s. His gaze on her softened.
“We go our separate ways.” She sign’s, he nods his head.
“Deal.” He signed. The both of them got to their feet, he shuffled, folding up the map and stuffing it away. She lightly picked up her fallen backpack, she still needed supplies.
His brown eyes watched her. Before the alien had crashed in he had caught glimpses of her through the broken shelves. Her hair tucked into a beanie, a windbreaker jacket and jeans, no shoes though. Her own survival tactic he guessed, she seemed focused on her objective of getting what she needed.
“What’s your name?” He ask’s her, she gulps hesitating. She lifts up her hand’s and begin’s to sign out her name.
“Valerie.” She mouthed to him. He smirked. “You?” She asks back.
He runs a hand through his hair, he raises up his hands, slowly signing out the letter’s of his name. “Bradley.”
⏁⏁⏁
THE NEXT FEW days the two survivors had grown close, well as close as two people can when they are only using sign language to communicate.He would fumble on his signing that she would have to guess what he had said.
Her legs ached on each side, they had been making their way out of the inner city, following the highway to the marina. If car’s didn't risk the chance of them being caught their trip would take twenty minutes, now it would be a three day trip on foot, not including them avoiding the creature’s.
Valerie sighed, the morning sun of december shined on the two of them. The sun was high enough she could guess it was eleven in the morning. Bradley and her would both take turns with a large machete, it was heavy in her hand’s that most of the time he was the one welding it.
She feel’s a tap on her shoulder, she turned her head at him. “Are you hungry?” Bradley signed, she shook her head. “No.” She signed.
“I have a fruit cocktail, if you do get hungry.” He signs, her lip’s forming a thin line, smiling softly at his chivalry. She brushed a piece of her hair from her face, the bitter air whipping at her cheeks.
“Thank you.” Valerie say’s. She had grown tired of their small talk;most conversations that had gotten out of one another were about if they were okay, how far they were from their location, and where they should stop to rest.
Not that she didn't appreciate his worry for her, they had to rely on each other if they wanted to make sure they would see the next sunrise. She crossed her arms in her windbreaker, the two walked past run down car’s. Nature had started to reclaim her own, the highway’s covered in greenage and rust set into the metal of the high rise.
“Hey.” She stops him, he turns to look at her, keeping the same pace. “What?” He wondered.
“Before this.” She start’s off, looking away thinking of a question to break the ice. “What did you do, your job?” She ask’s. He runs fingers through his blonde hair in though.
He point’s to the sky, using two finger’s to trace along the white cloud’s. She furrowed her brow trying to understand him. “You..worked in the sky?” She signed.
“A pilot?” Valerie signs, he nods his head. He point’s up again, using two finger’s as a gun.He shot in the sky, she thinks, her eye’s widening as she understands him now.
“Top..gun.” She signed slowly.
“Yeah, and you?” He ask’s, she shakes her head. His job was definitely more eventful than hers. She cleaned table’s, served plates out to elderly people, and sometimes she would deliver to room’s.
“I worked in a cafeteria.” She signed to him. “Kind of boring.” She tells him, he shook his head.
“That’s not boring, that's simple.” Bradley reassured her, she shook her head. “You got to fly in the sky..All I did was serve soup.” Valerie says to him
“I would have loved that.” He tells her. “There were times I just wanted thing’s to be slow.” He admitted to her, she furrowed her brow at his admittance.
“Why did you join then?” Valerie wondered. He sighed, her eye’s drifting down at the grass growing through the cracking line’s of the highway. He gulped as they continued to walk on.
“I just had to.” He says. She nodded her head, she guessed it was a story she had to hear by mouth, which she was sure she would never hear.
“Long story short?” She signed to him, he shrugged his shoulders. “How far are we?” Valerie wonder’s.
“We passed about two, maybe three gas stations.” He tells her, she scoff’s, she hadn't taken the time to note the landmark’s, only keeping in mind how long it will take to get to their destination.
“They all look the same.” She says.
“Everything does.” Bradley remark’s, his movement’s in his hands are slower. She noted that his signing was slower than hers, she guessed he wasn't as fluent or quick in ASL like she is.
“How far from the marina do you think we are?” Valerie asked him, his brow’s furrowed, he looked around at the street signs. He pulls the map from his bag, placing it lightly on a rundown car hood, bringing the red sharpie marking off on it.
“We were at Amo’s street and now we are on 163.” He signed to her. She stands close to him looking down at the map. He had taken the time to mark off on each site they passed.
“Okay and how much further?” She wonder’s. His brown eye’s look at the map. “Fourteen miles .” He guessed
“Seriously?” She ask’s, she dropped her hand’s at her side in frustration. ”I think you are pulling my boob.” She joke’s, he furrowed his brow at her signing, got to teach him some thing’s.
“It's only been a few day’s.” He point’s out, she rolled her eye’s. A few day’s in this world was a lifetime with how long it takes to travel.
“Feel’s longer.” She remarked.
“You can still get leave.” He reminds her, she sighed. He was right, she didn't have to stick with him, they could part way’s now and hope for the best.
Though it was nice to have someone to care about, knowing that when she woke up that someone was going to be waiting for her. In the world before she had thrown herself into her work, claiming it was her mistress. She hadn't given herself time for relationships, and frankly they never gave time to her either. No need to waste her energy in a world that seemed so bleak.
“We’ve gotten this far.” Valerie reminds him.
“We finish what we have started.” She signs to him. Her eye’s hardened with determination, he smirked at her ambition.
“If we keep walking we should get close enough to the bay area.” He summarized. “What about sleeping?” She asked him, his shoulder’s slump, as if to let out a sigh.
He put his hand in a salute looking at the skyline in front of them. Building’s once filled the sky high reflecting from the glass now covered in vine’s, some had crashed down. Slashed from the claw’s and talon’s of the sound seeking creature’s. She often wondered how it must have felt to watch from above seeing everyone going about their lives. They must have looked like ant’s compared to them.
“There.” He point’s
“You wanna go there?” Valerie asked him, he nodded his head.
“That’s far.” She mouthed to him, he furrowed his brow’s
“So is the marina.” He signs, he point’s to the top of the building. “If we get high enough we can see how far we are.” He tells her. Her heart thumped as it raced
“Can't we just go to a motel?” She wonder’s, he shook his head confused. “Thought you wanted to see how far we are?” He ask’s, she gulped.
“Just the height is intimidating.” Valerie tell’s him. He smirked amused at her fear. “The world has ended and you are afraid of heights?” He signed to her, she rolled her eyes.
“No, I'm afraid of a creature climbing a high rise to kill me.” She state’s.
“I won't let that happen.” He promised her, his signing in the end being wrong. She shook her head.
“Give me your hand.” She orders. He furrowed his brow. She guides his hands, moving them in the right motion’s, mouthing what they are. “That’s how you do it.” Valeria corrects him.
“Thank’s.” He signs. She smiled softly, she swung her backpack up further. “Come on.” She usher’s him, her heart pounding looking at the sun peaking through the two towers.
⏁⏁⏁
SHE HAD DECLARED it she hated height’s. Even more than before she climbed the eighteen floor’s of the forty one floors of the Pacific Gate. She had always wondered what it must have been like to stay in the extractive type hotels. She had grown up in Virginia, in a rural town mile’s from the urban city, she had come to Calafornia chasing a dream that sadly fell through.
Her fingers grazed the chipped paint on the wall, the pearl white had turned brown from the age and vine’s had grown in the hall’s into the room’s. They had luckily found a room that wasn't terribly covered in the reclaimed nature. Bradley had insisted that they stay close to each other, both taking a watch.
Though they doubted that anyone or anything would find them up there, unless they made a sound. He kept to himself mostly, she wondered before the end of the world had he been a social person, like her. She could see from his choice in wardrobe, a Hawaiian shirt underneath his black jacket that he certainly had a taste. His tan skin almost kissed by the sun herself, had he gotten it from all their walking, maybe he had it before the world went quiet.
Her feet step on the ripped up dark blue carpet. The sun had set on the city and the moon had shone over the window’s of the balcony. A warm orange glow lit the room from her lantern. He laid on the bed, white ear bed’s in each of his ears, plugged into an old IPod nano. His brown eyes focused on the world outside.
She stands next to the white unmade sheet’s. A buffalo plaid blanket laid on top, she had insisted that she take the couch on the other side. She had noticed he had been limping up the step’s, knowing that the fancy hotel probably had a mattress that would make him feel better. He refused, if she could she would have let out a frustrated yell.
She tap’s his shoulder, he shuddered at the touch from her, he snapped his head in surprise. His finger’s grazing the knife holster on his leg.
“Sorry.” He signed.
She shook her hand. “It's Okay.” Valerie take’s the seat spot next to him, keeping a distance between the both of them.
“How did you get that?” She asks, pointing at the old technology, he smirked looking down at the blue case, a smiley face sticker on the back that slowly chipped away.
“It’s mine.” He states, she nodded her head.
“It still works?” She asks curious, she hadn't used one in years, preferring streaming from her phone.
His pink chapped lips formed a thin line. “Yeah, all my music from college.” He tells her, his signing is still slow.
“Anything good?” Valerie wonder’s, he shrugged his shoulders. He handed it to her to look at, she held up the screen, beginning to scroll with the control’s, clicking with each movement of her thumb. His music taste ranged from almost every decade up until 2012. She was almost surprised with the variety of choices’ he had at the tip of his fingers’, she looked down sadly, she hadn't heard music in what felt like an eternity, she can't even recall the last thing she had listened to on day one of their new world order.
She stops scrolling. Her eyes widened at the song, Jerry Lee Lewis’s, Great Balls of Fire. A soft smile creased her cheek’s. Lonely nights in the bar were less lonely when everyone around her began to sing the sixtie’s jaunty tune. She brought her hand to her mouth.
His brows furrowed at her reaction. “What?” He signed. She shook her head.
“Nothing, it's just.” She stops looking down again, her thumb grazing the play button. “There was a guy at this bar.” He perked up, his brows furrowed.
“He played this on the piano.” She recall’s, smiling softly. His eyes widened, his lip’s parting as his thoughts raced.
“Yeah every saturday..guess he is gone now.” Valerie signed sadly, she brushed back a piece of her hair.
Bradley had finally realized something. In the store, he saw her through the broken isles and fallen objects. He could have swore it was his mind finally playing tricks on him, until he caught a glimpse of her face.
There were night’s he would go into the Hard Deck. She would sit in the same spot each night, order the same drink, she always seemed to have her mind on anything but where she was. He had been curious who she was, why was she always in her head. He did plan to talk to her, only any time he got the courage to talk to her, she would get up and leave before he could get a chance to speak.
He pulls one of the white ear buds out of his ear, handing it to her. She looked down at his hand, taking it from him, placing it in her ear, pressing the play button. She flinches at the sudden piano playing. He chuckled quietly.
She rolled her eyes playfully. She began bobbing her head slowly, trying not to move her head too much. The two of them doing different motion’s to the music, if she was alone she would be all over the place, dancing on the mattress belting her lung’s out. He bites his lips, closing his eyes, thinking of better times.
Valerie mouthed the lyrics, leaning her head back at the chorus. She shakes her shoulders leaning into him trying to get him to join in with her. Bradley smirked at her happiness, the two of them tried everything to bond. Seeing the other experiencing something other than fear made his heart flutter.
He begin’s tap with his finger’s the note’s of the piano. Recalling the filling of the key’s under his finger’s, each movement a phantom at his tip’s. Valerie hold’s her fist as a mock microphone as she mouthed the final lyrics.
An inhuman screech fills the air echoing off the city. Her heart raced, wiping her head to look at the balcony. She shook her head. Figure’s she thinks’. The world outside was still as bleak as ever. Her smile fell as she glanced down.
“I’ll take my first watch.” She signed to him. His brow’s furrowed. Her shoulders tensed as she stood to attention, pulling her jacket closer. She turns on her heels to walk.
“Wait”. she hears a faint whisper escape’s his lip’s. He reached out, taking her hand in his calloused one. Their eyes locked as his face softened.
“Stay.” He pleads
She gazed at him. He had before insisted that they stay in separate rooms so the other had the chance of escaping while the other could too. Now here he begged for her to not leave him alone. Was he really scared this time, did he need that comfort of knowing in the room he wasn't alone.
“Of course.” Valerie signed. He gulped, running his hand through his unkempt honey curls. He laid back down. Placing his headphones back in his ear, leaving one out one for her to hear the music he played.
Bradley stayed awake for as long as he could, fighting hard against the sleepiness in his body, losing in the end. Soft snoring escaping his lip’s. Valerie formed a soft grin at his peacefulness, the both had seen so much, so many things lost and so many stolen from each of them.
She leaned over him, pulling a navy blue blanket over his chest. He turns in sleep, not waking. Hopefully he dreamed, anywhere that wasn't there must be better. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier as she stared at the quiet city. She wiped away the feeling from her eye’s.
Desperately battling against her own body clock, she groaned softly, wiping her cheek’s. Just shut your eye’s for a moment, the last word’s she thinks before her head hits the pillow and the world becomes dark.
⏁⏁⏁
SHE SCRIBBLED THE WORD on the notepad. The two had grown bored on their adventure to the marina.  Valerie had been sneaking around the Pacific gate, and found a white board for Bradley to use to communicate.  Thinking it would make their communicating easier, as his ASL was slow, and now she could properly tease him. 
“A.” He signed, she smirked, shaking her head. They had started playing the game hangman in to past time, they weren't far from the marina, having woken up late didn't help the ground they would have to make up. 
He rolled his eyes as she drew another body part to the stick figure. She licked her lips as she waited for another guess. She had won the last five round’s of the game and him once, to be fair she didn't blame him for not being good at guessing games when there wasn't anyone to give hints verbally. 
“C.” He guessed, she nodded her head writing the letter on the white board. He pumped his fist, the machete in the other, his turn as her hands were preoccupied with the marker. 
“I hate this.” He signs, she smirks at him.  “You just suck.” She teased him, he pulls out a tiny notepad, writing down in big letters. He holds it up to her. 
“You have a lot of sass for a girl with no shoe’s.” It read, her eyes widened at the comeback. She uses her hoodie sleeve wiping off a bit of their game writing. 
“And who’s idea was that mustache?”She wondered. His lip’s parted agape. “You love it.” He signs, she shakes her head. “Fuck off no I dont.” She write’s down. He holds up his own notepad. 
“Everyone loves it, baby.” His read’s, she rolled her eye’s. “Not me.” She gesture’s. He scoffs silently. 
“Wanna find out why?” He challenged her, licking his chapped lips. She looked at the hair above his lip, his facial hair being a stand out to the rest of his features, other than his well built physique. His blonde hair is curly on the top and shaved on the neck, unkempt yet somehow it still made him look even more handsome. 
“No thanks.” She smiled softly.  She looks down at her whiteboard, wiping it off again. “Keep guessing.” She urged him. 
He runs his hand through his curl’s. “P” He sign’s. She looks at him disappointed, adding another limb to the stick man.
“That’s two arm’s.” Valerie point’s out. He shook his head. His step’s halt as he look’s up. “What?” She ask’s, her eye’s scan his sight seeing what he stopped for. Her heart stop’s in her throat as it began to race. 
Hundreds of boat’s laid out in front of them on the waterfront, docked in their areas. Some fell prey to nature while some still remained. 
Her breath shaked, she looked to the man next to her. Tears filled both their eyes, they had finally made it after so many long hours of walking, and dodging alien’s they reached their destination. 
“Come on.” Valerie urged him. 
She turned on her heels quickly scurrying to the stairs that lead down to the docks. He followed closely behind her as the both of them desperately raced for the nearest boat’s. Her feet pound against the wood as she stop panting looking around at their option for travel. 
“Which one?” She asked him. He put his hand on hips trying to catch his breath. 
“Anything with a cabin.” He writes on his notepad, she nods her head. 
She walked around each boat, checking each for a key. She doubted that any of them would be filled with gasoline, much less run. For the most part they were almost all sailboat’s, and small yachts. She had never been on a boat, well one as big as the one’s parked in the water. She had gone fishing before with her uncles in the past, though she knows a small boat wouldn't get them to the island they needed something better. 
The wood creaked as she stepped back down again.  Valerie walk’s back around to the other dock, he stood with his arms crossed irritated. 
“That bad.” She joke’s. 
“I'll check again.” She tells him. He shrugged. “Be my guest.” He signed to her. The dock creaked again as with the heavy step of her foot. She gasps as a sharp pain in his felt in her thigh. She snapped her head looking down, a long black stick stuck out of her, piercing through pant leg. 
A scream of anguish left her mouth as hot fire pain ran up and down her leg. She collapsed onto the dock groaning loudly, her eyes widened as her hot tears welled.
Bradley ran to her side, putting his hand over her mouth, muffling her scream. Valerie cried as she tried to pull the arrow out.
“Don't do that.” He whispered to her. She whimpered, leaning her head back. 
He grunt’s as a cold metal graze’s his neck. Her eyes widened as another man behind him held a knife to the blonde’s throat. Two men dressed in ragged clothes, walk slowly behind him and stand above her, her heart racing in fear. Bradley slowly get’s to his feet, lifting his hand’s up in surrender. The man nod’s his head at the two men. The grab Valerie under her arm’s bringing her to her feet, she groaned quietly. A woman walks around, forcing a bandana around her mouth silencing her, she walks around. 
Her cold eye’s analyzing both of them. No one dared to speak, she slowly paced around them. She removes a rope from around her waist, standing behind Bradley. She smirked, shooting dagger’s at Valerie. She grunt’s wrapping the rope around his neck, pulling it tightly. He gasped for air pulling at the rope that cut into his neck. He groaned as the man behind him forced him to turn around, beginning to drag him across the wooden dock. 
Valerie grunted against the two men’s arm’s, her heart raced as she watched him struggle, clawing at his captor.  The woman from before circle’s her, looking the restrained girl up and down, vulture to its prey.  She point’s with her knife at the end of the dock. 
She pant’s in fear, gritting her teeth. Her eye’s went to his kicking leg’s, a black leather strap on his leg laid a metallic flicker of the sun. Her brows furrowed as she understood what to do. She stomps on the wood. 
The woman in front of her raised her brow’s at her action. Bradley looked at her, she stomped again, gesturing to her leg. He grunted twisting around trying to slow the man behind him, he strained as he grunt’s pulling him closer to the water. Valerie stomp’s her foot again, slapping thigh again. 
His brown eyes darted to his own leg. The black leather sheath with his initials in the working laid his brown bowie handled knife. He reached with one hand, the other fighting the rope at his throat. His finger’s link through the hole in the handle, pulling it out. 
Valerie met the eye of the woman leader. She smirked as her confusion grew. She grit’s through her teeth, extending her leg kicking the woman in the face, she stumbled back falling over onto the dock. She huffed, grabbing the handle in her holster, unsheathing her blade plunging it into the man behind her groin. 
The man hollered out in pain. His scream echoing off the city. Screech and roar’s sound alert at the sudden disruption of their perfect world. The man with the rope looked up with wide eyes, his distraction end’s as a sharp cut is felt to his stomach. 
He released the rope. Bradley got to his feet, he grunted as he balled his fist and swung it into the man’s face. Valerie grabbed one of the men by their shoulders, plunging her blade into his chest, he groaned in agony. 
Shoving him away from her. Blood rushed through her ear’s as the creature’s cry’s began to get closer to them all. Valrie grunted limping, holding her thigh, crimson brown leaking through her jean’s onto the wood. She gritted her teeth trying to move as fast as her injury would let her get.  Behind her she could hear the clicking of the alien, as well as its talon slicing through a body. 
Bradley pulled the man against the dock post, pulling the rope tight as he fought against him.  
“Fuck you.” He whispered into the man’s ear, he jammed the knife into the killer's gut. He let out a cry of agony, the creature’s hollers cutting in with his. 
Valerie ducked out of the way, her head slamming hard into the wood. The former pilot dove into the water as the man was tackled into the bay water. 
Her vision blurred as she looked to the sky above. She gasped for breath, panting as hot flashes ran through her body. The world around faded in and out, eventually turning dark.
⏁⏁⏁
HER BODY ACHED. Never in her life had she felt this tired, each side of her felt like they were under rushing water, slowing her with fatigue and aches. Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, the room around her rock back and forth, small and walled with dark oak. She groaned looking down at her leg. 
The arrow was gone, the pain lingered. Her pant leg was cut open, a part of her maroon brief’s visible. A white bandage wrapped around her thigh, a bit of blood stained brown on her leg. She pant’s as she looked all around her, she didn't recognize where she was at all. “Valerie, it's okay.” A deep voice spoke clearly, her heart skipped a beat. She whipped her head, he got to her side sitting on an ottoman close to the wall. His blonde hair dripped with water, though the rest of his clothes remained dry. 
She stuttered for a moment. “I got the arrow out but I had to dig around the tip.” Bradley inform’s her, crossing his hands over his lap. 
“You bled a lot, and you kept waking up each time I tried to remove it.” He says to her. The glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his features onto the oak of the room.  His brown eyes meet her widened one’s, he furrowed his brow. 
“Are you okay, what’s wrong?” He asked in concern. She shook her head.
“Nothing, it's just.” She gulp’s. 
“I haven't heard you speak before.” She admits, his gaze softened on her.  There were moments she could catch glimpses of his voice when he mouthed words, it was much deeper then what she had thought it was. 
“Where are we?” Valerie asks him. He gulps, clearing his throat.
“Couple mile’s out from the bay, the creature drowned itself so it didn't follow us.” He reassures her, she nods her head. 
“How far from the island are we?” She wonder’s, he shrugged his shoulders as though.
“About five miles, give or take.” He inform’s her, she listens hearing the sound of water slushing around, she was on a boat. 
“They can't swim, and it’s raining right now, so it’s safe to talk.” He tells her. She groans as she holds her thigh sitting up. He gets to her side. “Hey Hey take it easy.” He soothed her. 
“I'm fine.” Valerie state’s, he shakes his head.  “You were shot with an arrow and lost a lot of blood.” He reminds her. 
“You said you were a fighter pilot, not a nurse.” She teased with a weak laugh. He rolled his eyes at her comments.  “Gonna take a lot more than an arrowhead to take me out.” She tells him. 
“Clearly.” He chuckled. “Listen, what happened back there.” She start’s, he holds up his hand for her to stop. “Dont..its okay, its over.” 
“No, I'm sorry.” Valerie say’s softly, shaking her head. His brows furrowed in confusion at her guilt.  “We didn't know they were there, it's fine.” He assured her. 
“No I meant I should have done more, I should have swallowed my pain and killed him.” She ranted, biting her lip as she thought about all of it. 
“It’s not your fault, none of that was your fault.” Bradley says to her. “They were gonna kill you.” Valerie stammer’s out, she wiped her eye’s. “And you saved me.” He reminded her, and she shook her head. 
“You did, I wouldn't have remembered my knife if you hadn't been there.” Bradley admit’s. He stands up, sitting on the gray sheets of the bed she laid on. His plaid shirt unbuttoned, underneath he wore a black shirt.  
“They would have drowned me, and killed you.” He tells her.
“Valerie you saved me, you did.” He declares strongly. He glanced down at her bare thigh. Shiver ran down her body as goosebumps painted her arms. Her heart skipped a beat. 
“Should probably change your bandage.” He whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat. He stands up walking out of the cabin room.  A breath of relief left her lips. she hadn't realized it.  She missed human’s, conversation, touching, feeling, and experiencing. She joked before that she ghosted through everything, living only to work. Now she lived to survive, that wasn't living. 
He came back into the room with first aid supplies. He sat down in front of her on the floor, and began to unwrap the bandage from her leg. His fingertip’s grazed her thigh, her heart pounded in her ear’s loudly. “You're staring.” He mumbled. She cleared her throat leaning back on her hand’s.
“Sorry..uh just talk to me.please.” She pleaded with him, chuckling nervously. “Um..what was your word on the highway?” Bradley wonder’s, she scoffs. “Sore loser.” She grumbled, shaking her head. He rolled his eye’s as he soaked a cotton ball with alcohol. 
“It was cowboy.” Valerie tell’s him.  “What!?” He exclaimed, she chuckled, shaking her head. “See what I mean.” She teased him. She hissed through her teeth as hot pain stung her, she grit her teeth sitting up, gripping his arms. 
“Fuck motherfuc-agh.” The women swore holding him tightly. His brown eyes looked her up and down. 
“Little warning would have been nice.” Valerie mutter’s. 
“Sorry.” He breathed out. She shook her head letting go of his arms.
“Can I ask you something?” Valerie wonder’s, he nods his head. 
“Yeah sure.” Bradley say’s, he brings cold wet cloth, wiping away the dried blood that dye’s the white red. She glanced at his lips watching as he worked around the wound. She could see the outline of the arrowhead and where he had to cut around her thigh. 
“Did you ever visited the Hard Deck?” Valerie asked calmly. He licked his lips looking up from his spot on the floor.
“You said you were a pilot, and that was the popular spot for them.” She recall’s. 
“Did you ever go?” She repeats’. “I did.” He answers, she smirks. He place’s a white gauze on the wound, soaking up the blood, placing more around it. 
“So you must have seen me at some point right?” Valerie smiled softly. He bit his lip as heat arose to his cheek.  
“I did.” He says softly. Her heart pounded, the blonde stared up at her from the floor. His eyes glancing between the wound on her leg, his finger’s working delicately to not hurt her, and her face. 
His breath hot on the bare part of her skin, his focus didn't deter him from how close the two were getting. More than they have been since they began their journey. “Did you ever try to talk to me?” She wondered. He wrapped the bandage around her leg tightly.
“I wanted to, you always left before I could.” Bradley admit’s. Her breath hitched at his confession. 
“I saw you every Saturday, you alway ordered the same thing.” His brown eyes glanced at her.
“Pale Ale, with a garnish.” He recall’s, her dropped slightly agape. 
“And you always looked like you had so much on your mind.” His voice vibrated. Her brows furrowed as she began to rerun scenes from the world before. Every Saturday. She thought. It couldn't be him, could it. “I never got the confidence though, kind of mad at myself on that one.” He chuckled weakly, he shook his head. Her thoughts raced as she played everything back, she only caught glimpses from behind, his sunglasses always his eyes from her, and the crowd’s of civilians and armed forces. 
He turned around. “It was you wasn't it?” Valerie say’s, she sits up with her hand in her lap. His heart pounded, he 
“Great balls of Fire, every saturday…the piano.” She lists,their eyes not daring to look away. 
“Was that you?” She asks softly. He smiled warmly. His hand’s stopped wrapping, he taped it sealing her wound off. Her hand’s hold his on her bare thigh.
"Yes." He anwserd, he looked down at the floor. "That was me." He says.
She smiled, caressing his cheek, making him look her in the eye. The gap between the two of them began to get smaller As his hand slowly trailed to her waist. She holds the back of his neck pulling him in, inhaling deeply as their lips begin to move in sync.
His finger grazes across her skin, the warmth of them contrasting with her cold body. He leaned forward, hooking his hand under knee .
Her back pushed into the grey comforter, the both of them keeping the rhythm of lips . She wrapped her bare leg around his waist, while her other hand played with the hem of his plaid shirt.
She pulled away as sharp pain shot through her body. Valerie held her leg groaning in pain.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, his hot breath on her face. She smiled, their foreheads touching. "It's okay…should take it slow." She says softly.
"Not really my style." Bradley teases her, she could feel him smirk.
"Me neither." She agreed. Valerie untangled herself from, he pulled himself away from her. His blonde hair messy from her fingers.
"You should get some rest, I'll see how far we are." He tell's her. He adjusted his pant leg as he turned around. She smirked at her effect.
"You know if this isn't a rumor, then we won't have to worry about that." Valerie teased him. He bit his lip, turning around to face her.
"Are you good on that promise?" Bradley challenged her. She smirked looking him up and down.
" I might be." She smirked. He shook his head as his cheeks became hot. His brown eyes gazed on the injured girl.
"Get some rest." He says walking out of the cabin room. She sighed leaning her head back against the pillow. Groaning loudly as she closed her eyes as the ache in body remained. The boat slowly rocked her back to sleep.
A/N: AND THAT IS ALL SHE WROTE, God i hope this dosent flop because if it does I have to go down with. Anyway's, your favorite smart mouth guy is next.
Tagged: @cowboysandpilots @bobfloydssunnies @sugarcoated-lame @sorchathered @fairyheart @senawashere @swiftsgirlfriend @
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punishereditz · 1 month
Text
Before Bed
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Pairing: Jake Seresin x f!reader
Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Smut. Dom!Jake. Teasing. Edging. Blowjob. Mouth fuck. Gagging. Lots of dirty talk. Praise kink.
AN: Haven't posted a hangman story in a hot minute, so here's pure smut for y'all.
Word count: 1.2k
Summary: You took teasing a little too far.
~
You had your head rested on his lap. Your hands holding his hips. You glanced up at him. At his ruffled messy hair. His veiny hands holding a book. Then down to his soft abs. That beautiful tanned, freckled skin and that v -line that disappears into his grey sweatpants.
He looked so damn good. He was just simply reading before bed, but you couldn't help having vile thoughts of him. Especially since your face was just inches from his cock that you wanted you so badly. You couldn't help yourself anymore. Your hands slowly inched up his side. Your fingers moving slowly over his smooth, hot skin. Then moving down to the waistband of his pants. Gently running your fingers at them before you continued your travels over his body.
Your finger tracing his muscles. It was simply, but it was enough to make Jake take a deep breath and look down at you. But he returned his eyes to his book. Acting unbothered but you knew he was bothered. You could tell by the change in the movement of his chest. So, you continued, but decided to take it just a small step further. You moved your hand down his stomach and to his thigh. Gently rubbing it. You allowed your hand to brush against the tip of his cock. Then you moved your hand back up to his stomach. Not allowing him to have more just yet. And he knew exactly what you were doing. He was biting at his lip, trying to control his breathing, even as your hand moved up and down his body. Your thumb occasionally brushing against his dick.
After doing that for a while, you took the tip of your finger, and you lightly moved it up and down his cock. Making a shiver run down his spine. He peeped his eyes past the book. Looking down at you on his lap. Your soft expression as your eyes were on your finger. Acting as if this was the most casual thing ever and you weren't purposely trying to get to him. And you were, because his cock twitched against you, and you had to bite back a grin. Enjoying every second of this. But you thought of something you would enjoy even more. So, you laced your hands in the waistband of his pants. Raising up, you looked up at him with lustful eyes and he finally put the book down. Looking into your eyes as you pulled his pants down. His throbbing cock free.
You leaned down and placed gentle kisses up his dick until you gently kissed the tip of it. Tasting his pre-cum. You didn't take him into your mouth just yet. Instead, you kept kissing his cock. Kissing the sides, the tip. Then you licked up his cock. Earning a soft moan from him and his cock twitching again. You wrapped your hand around it. Kissing the tip of it and starting to lick the tip. Slowly moving your hand up and down. And as you did, you took the tip into your mouth. Gently sucking at it. You matched the movements of your mouth with the movements of your hand. Slowly sucking his cock. His eyes rolling in the back of his head and his hands moving down to your head. Grabbing your hair and holding it back for you. Looking down at you with him in your mouth.
It was the most beautiful sight to him. His climax was slowly building even more. So turned on by you. Becoming even worse when you started pushing your head down a little further. Taking more of his cock into your mouth and speeding up your movements. "Oh fuck. That's it." He groaned in pleasure, and he kept his eyes down on you. Watching as your head bobbed up and down. His climax starting to get closer, but he tried to hold off. He was enjoying this too much and he wanted this to last for as long as possible. He could have you like this forever. In between his legs, sucking his dick. He didn't think it could get better, but it did when you pushed your head down further. Taking as much of his cock as you could. His cock throbbing in your mouth as you had him deep in your throat. It was starting to become too much for him.
"I'm so close." He mumbled. His eyes closed in pleasure and his hand gripping your hair. You started to slow the movement down. Then you took him out of your mouth and pulled his pants up. Laying your head back down. Leaving him high and dry. He groaned in frustration and put a hand over his face. He wasn't about to have this. He raised up. Moving around you, he stood at the edge of the bed and grabbed your ankles. Snatching you to the edge of the bed. He pushed you down on your knees and he took his cock out. Pushing it into your mouth. He held the back of your head as he thrusted his cock deep in your throat. "You know better than that sweetheart." He spoke as he started to fuck your mouth. His cock twitching as he pushed your head down. Making you take all of his big cock.
"Is this what you wanted? You want me fucking your mouth?" He slightly tilted his head to the side as he looked down at you. Pushing your head back and thrusting his hips even more. Making sure you had all of his cock. "Hmm? You like me using that pretty little mouth? You like when I fuck you like the slut you are?" He kept his thrust hard and fast. His grip on your hair tight. Your eyes were watering. Gagging on his cock. Spit spilling out of your mouth. A pool of wetness in your underwear. Your pussy throbbing as you were getting more and more turned on.
The more he talked and the more he used your mouth, the more wet you got. You loved the feeling of his cock deep in you. Feeling it throb in the back of your throat. Seeing the veins in his neck pop and him struggling to contain his noises. He thrusted as deep as he could in your throat, and he stayed still. Keeping his cock just like that in your mouth. Taking a moment to just feel your mouth. Gagging on him. Tears in your eyes. "That's it. Such a good little slut for me." He spoke and he started his thrust up again. This time not so fast, but still so deep. He was so, so close to coming. "Be a good girl, use that mouth for me. Use your hands." He instructed you and you did as you were told. You pushed your head down in a fast past on his cock. Trying to take all of him.
Your hands gently massaging his balls and that was enough for him. His climax was hitting him. His cock throbbed and twitched as he pushed your head against him. His come shooting down your throat. The hot, salty come filling your mouth up. He kept your head there just like that for a long moment. Then he slowly pulled out. Looking down at you and giving you a smile.
"You were such a good girl for me."
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say-al0e · 10 months
Text
Home Run
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Rating: PG-13 
Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your friend for years, a constant in an ever-evolving life. You’ve always harbored a small crush on him. All it takes is one night to change everything. | Ft. “Are we on a date right now?” requested by @xlostinobsessionsx​ and “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” “You’re getting shy on me now? Really?,” and “Kiss me. Like you mean it.” requested by Anon.
Warnings: Baseball, mentions of anxiety, mentions of deployment, mention of parent death (Goose is mentioned but it’s blink and you miss it), mentions of family issues. I think that’s it but let me know if you see anything else!
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!Reader (call sign Angel)
Word Count: 9k (......sorry)
Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist
“What are you doing Saturday?”
Bradley Bradshaw sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite your desk, coffee in either hand as he spared you an expectant glance. Though he shouldn’t have looked so comfortable, at home amongst the stark white of the medical office, he’d become a near permanent fixture since returning to Top Gun.
Years had passed, several of which with only sporadic contact shared, but Bradley had barreled back into your life as if it had only been a matter of days. With the aviators he wore so often hooked into the collar of his undershirt and cheeks tinted pink from the California sun, you could almost believe it - convince yourself that you were the same twenty-somethings you’d once been - as you lifted your eyes to meet his.
“Good morning, Bradley. I’m doing fine, how are you? Gee, the weather sure is nice, though I heard it might rain,” you drawled, tone decidedly unimpressed as you glanced away from your chart to fix him with the blandest look you could muster. The lack of greeting was something he found himself guilty of often - it was nothing for him to drop into a conversation without preamble, leaving you scrambling to catch up - and you had a habit of calling him on it. However, when you were met with little more than raised brows, you allowed yourself a quiet laugh. “Manners, Bradshaw. What, were you raised in a barn?”
“I was raised in Virginia,” he reminded you, shrugging as he did so. “And spent four years in a fraternity. So, do with that what you will.” It took a great deal of effort to conceal your laughter, despite your amusement being his ultimate goal, as he swallowed his own with a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” he redirected, look pointed, “Saturday. Plans?”
With a sigh, you exchanged the pen in your hand for the coffee he slid across the desk - only slightly awed he still remembered your order - and provided Bradley with your full attention. It was clear he was a man on a mission, unbothered by the limited time to waste until training, and wouldn’t leave until he had an answer. So, you settled into your chair.
“Nope. I’m free.” It was clear that he had something in mind, an adventure of some sort he deemed you worthy of joining, but weeks had passed since you last spent quality time together. It wasn’t uncommon but you wanted to tease him, make him spell it out, so you hummed thoughtfully. “Nat’s sister is in town, Bob’s back home on leave, Mickey’s binging Star Trek in chronological order - which I’ve already done -, and Jake’s, well, Jake. So, I figured I’d just go to the beach or something. Why?”
Bradley frowned, an unexpected twinge of something akin to hurt clouding his otherwise bright eyes, as he lifted his own coffee. “I’m not on that list,” he pointed out, brows furrowing as he fixed you with a look you’d been on the receiving end of far too many times. “Why?”
The reaction was a little more serious than you were expecting and it was your turn to frown. One glance at Bradley told you that his inquiry, while uttered as teasingly as he could muster so early in the morning, was genuine. A brief flash of hurt crossed his face, darkened his eyes for a split second, before he hid his frown behind a sip of coffee.
A small pang of guilt needled at your skin. Though you’d meant it to be teasing, a joke, you never thought Bradley would take it as anything else.
“I just figured you’d be with Mav again,” you explained, only a little guilty. It was accompanied by an uncertain shrug as you stirred your coffee, though you knew Bradley could tell how bad you felt. “You’ve been with him the last few weekends and I didn’t want to interrupt the bonding.” When Bradley made a face, brows furrowing as he attempted to recount exactly how much time he’d been spending with Maverick - and when you last spent time together - you laughed quietly. “I think it’s nice, Roo,” you insisted, shooting him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re getting along. And now that we’re stationed together again, we can hang out whenever. It’s not a big deal.”
“That’s very thoughtful and I appreciate it,” he declared, slipping his foot under the gap in your desk to nudge yours, “but call me out when I get distant. You’re important to me.”
Though your entire body grew warm at the weight of his declaration - the sincerity with which he spoke, the earnest look in his eyes, the soft gravel of his voice - you swallowed the butterflies threatening to escape and shook your head. 
Bradley Bradshaw was one of your closest friends and had been a part of your life for much of your adulthood. You’d seen him at his best - and at his worst - and knew what it meant to love him. He had a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, unintentionally as he’d always been charismatic yet emotionally unavailable, and you’d spent the last ten years determined not to be one.
Instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the feelings you’d realized last time you were stationed together, the feelings you’d spent years questioning and rationalizing and compartmentalizing; instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the warmth, then the chill of realization that he couldn’t mean that in the way you so desperately hoped, you shook your head.
“There’s a difference between being distant and making up for lost time, Roo.”
Bradley waved a hand, dismissing the idea even as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands for a moment. “Anyway,” he redirected, lifting his gaze once more after a moment of silence. “There’s this new place downtown. It’s a bar but it’s got an arcade, go-karts, mini-golf; all kinds of shit.” He paused, for dramatic effect, you were sure - he’d been spending too much time with Fanboy, you decided, though you managed to keep from rolling your eyes. “There’s also a batting cage.”
The foundation of your friendship with Bradley was built on a handful of shared interests and experiences. You’d both had difficult upbringings, marred by tragedy, and both went to a traditional university rather than the Naval Academy. And, in the pursuit of your degrees, both spent years as student athletes. So, if the grin threatening to lift the corners of his mouth was anything to go by, Bradley knew he had you with the mention of the batting cage.
“Yeah, I heard about it. Fritz took his girlfriend there last weekend. She said it was nice.” Even before her confirmation, you’d seen it online and placed it on a list of ‘to-visit’ spots. There was no question that Bradley would be the perfect companion to enjoy all the bar had to offer but you continued to play coy. “Apparently, they’re working with that brewery, that one with the nice taproom we went to a few months ago.”
For a brief moment, silence settled over the corner of the medical office you called yours. Bradley waited, just until you returned your gaze to his, before raising a brow at you. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” His amusement was obvious, laughter badly hidden behind his coffee cup as he awaited your confirmation, but he wasted no time giving in to you. “Do you want to go with me, check it out?”
“It’s only fair, since you’ve been avoiding me.” The unamused look Bradley shot you nearly made you break, laughter bubbling in your through - regardless of the pang of guilt you felt earlier, you knew he wouldn’t take offense - but you bit your tongue and nodded. “Yeah, alright. S’long as you don’t pout when I embarrass you at the batting cage.”
A scoff left his lips as he stood from his seat, mission accomplished and ready to finally begin his day. “We were both pitchers, Angel,” he reminded you, rolling his eyes as he gathered his coffee and waited for you to do the same. “Neither of us can bat for shit.”
“Hey, speak for yourself, Bradshaw.” You followed his lead, gathering the items necessary for you to begin your rounds, as you offered him a saccharine smile. “I was a cleanup hitter.”
The word ‘bullshit,’ disguised with a purposefully awful cough escaped Bradley’s lips. When you rolled your eyes, amused at his disbelief, he laughed. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious. I swear I’ve told you this before, but look up my stats, frat boy,” you implored him, not bothering to hide your laughter as you rounded the desk and headed for the door with him close behind. “You were day drinking and I was in a batting cage. We were not the same.”
Silence settled for a moment, broken by the sounds of the medical staff beginning their morning shift, as you ambled down the hall with Bradley close by. Finally, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully. 
“Guess we’ll see on Saturday, then.” He brushed past you to hold the door, body close enough for the scent of his cologne to overpower the antiseptic and cloud your thoughts, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he glanced down at you. Still, you swallowed the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach as he proposed, “Fewest hits buys dinner?”
“I’m an expensive date, Bradshaw.” The taunt was nowhere near as strong as you intended, nowhere near as sharp, but if Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged as you both paused just shy of the exit.
“So am I, Angel.” 
Then, for just a moment, Bradley studied you. Those warm brown eyes raked over your skin, rapidly heating from the weight of his attention, as that amused grin never faltered. His eyes, however, softened considerably as you blinked at him. There seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue, some witty quip that would make you laugh, but before he could speak, the door opened and a handful of nurses streamed into the hallway.
The group, who you knew well and worked with daily, all bid you both a good morning - though you could see from their not-so-discreet stares that you’d be answering questions about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Bradley later on - and the moment was broken.
Bradley spared a glance at his watch, seemed to realize the time, and reached for the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.” And with that, he stepped outside, off in the direction of the hangar, leaving you to shake your head.
Spending time with Bradley was something you’d always adored, regardless of what it meant and where you ended up - whether it was at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the group of pilots you’d been accepted into without question, or out on the beach, alone as you watched the waves roll in. Though you had a tendency to tease, to give him a hard time, you were glad to accept any invitation to make up for lost time.
And while plans made at the beginning of the week always seemed so far away, especially plans made with Bradley, Saturday seemed to roll around far quicker than you expected.
Between new students - some losing the battle against the California sun, others losing the battle against a bottle of tequila - and yearly appointments all seeming to fall within the same few day span, you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about your weekend plans. Bradley was also kept busy, pulled in one direction or another as he prepared for yet another special mission, and your paths only crossed briefly throughout the week.
Though communication was limited - only a handful of words shared in passing, along with a text or two to confirm plans hadn’t changed - Bradley still arrived at your place at six on the dot.
Bradley made it halfway up the sidewalk, ready to knock at your door and greet you with a grin - some witty quip on his lips about how nice you cleanup - before you stepped out onto the small stoop with a bright grin of your own.
“Ya know, I was kind of expecting you to be fashionably late, Roo.”
While he’d never been late for work - Bradley understood the importance of time management, valued his job and wanted to make a positive impression on his superiors - he had a habit of making a grand entrance elsewhere. Most nights, he sauntered into the Hard Deck fifteen minutes after everyone else, dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans that always hugged his thighs just right. He nearly always showed up to Sunday brunch with a hangover, twenty minutes after the agreed upon time, and already nursing a hangover. 
But the thing about Bradley’s habitual lateness; he’d never been late for you.
If you made plans, agreed to spend quality time together without the rest of the Daggers, he made it a point to show up. Hungover, exhausted, burnt out from a long week - it never seemed to matter. Bradley had never left you hanging and you’d long since stopped wondering when that day would come. Instead, you thanked your lucky stars that Bradley Bradshaw deemed you worthy of his time and attention and grinned at him as you approached the Bronco.
Bradley caught the teasing lilt to your voice immediately, saw the glittering amusement in your eyes, and laughed himself as he shook his head. “I figured I got lucky enough getting you to hang out with me. Didn’t want to push it by being late.”
“Very thoughtful.” In true Bradley fashion, he opened the Bronco door for you, aviators slipping down the bridge of his nose as he took in the outfit - casual, but still nicer than anything you’d wear to the Hard Deck - you wore. You ignored the warmth creeping up your chest at the weight of his gaze, swallowed it in hopes of drowning the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, as you shook your head. “And chivalrous, too! It’s a wonder you’re so painfully single, Bradshaw.”
The roll of his eyes was playful, unbothered by the teasing jab at his relationship status - something that had become a running joke among the Daggers by this point, anyway - as he rounded the Bronco to join you. “It’s the emotional unavailability,” he defended, shrugging as he turned on the vehicle. “Or something like that.”
“At least you’re self-aware. That counts for something, I think.”
Occasionally, you wondered if the jabs at Bradley’s lack of a love life - or, rather, lack of a committed love life, lack of a steady love life, as he’d had his fair share of flings over the years, though they’d slowed to a complete stop since his return to Top Gun - ever bothered him.
Jake started it all a few months after the Daggers’ friendship became real, shortly after that first mission ended. He made some stupid joke about Bradley’s lack of commitment after he found himself committed to a pretty bartender and it was true enough. Bradley hadn’t had a steady partner in years, not one that he deemed worthy of introducing to his friends, anyway, and you all took turns playing armchair therapist to rationalize why.
Still, Bradley seemed to take it all in stride.
As he always seemed to, Bradley shook his head and laughed quietly as he pulled away from the curb. Instead of arguing, carrying on with the bit as he sometimes did, the conversation fell into a natural lull as he allowed his usual playlist - comprised of eighties throwbacks and the occasional song from his days as a frat boy - to fill the cab of the Bronco.
While it should’ve been uncomfortable, silence with Bradley never was. Even in the beginning of your friendship, back when you were both bright-eyed and overwhelmed with the seemingly endless possibilities your futures seemed to hold, Bradley was was comfortable. And even back then, when your heart seemed to skip a beat every time he smiled at you - every time you were certain your skin would remain permanently on fire, every time you were certain your giddy laughter would give you away - it was always easy.
No matter how much time seemed to pass, no matter how many miles separated you, Bradley had always been a constant. And it seemed that no matter where in the world you found yourselves, when you reunited, there was an overwhelming feeling of returning home.
When you stopped to think about it, that comfort - that feeling of home, that stability - was what kept you from risking your friendship with Bradley.
Though you’d harbored an ever-growing, seemingly never fading, crush on him since the day you met, pushing for anything more came with a risk of losing him for good. Acting on those feelings, acknowledging them outside the confines of your own thoughts, meant risking everything you’d built.
The friendship you shared survived distance, months spent oceans apart; it survived seemingly endless stretches of time with limited communication; it survived deployments, periods of discomfort, moments of doubt, and everything in between because there was no pressure.
With Bradley, there were never any expectations. 
Bradley had always been comfortable because with him, you felt the freedom to just exist. He never expected you to be anything other than yourself, accepted you for the person that you were, and saw the beauty in that. He never judged you for saying the wrong thing or having a bad day, never thought less of you for needing a shoulder to lean on. He never made you feel less than.
There was never a fear of fucking it all up but you knew the moment you crossed that line, the moment you allowed yourself to give in and fall completely in love with Bradley Bradshaw, you were opening yourself up for a heartbreak you’d only had nightmares of.
Before you could spiral further, fall into a pit of despair so deep it would take the rest of the weekend to climb out of, Bradley’s voice cut through the din inside your head. That voice, rasp a balm for your suddenly aching chest, rang in your ears as he declared, “Hate to interrupt your attempt to solve all the world’s problems, but we’re here.”
A cursory glance out the window confirmed his statement and you blinked as you took in the sheer size of it all. “Fritz really undersold this place,” you said, sparing Bradley a quick glance before eying the packed parking lot. “It’s massive.”
“I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.”
A hum of agreement was all that seemed necessary and even that was lost to the ether as Bradley parked and shut off the engine. While you were entranced by all the bar offered, eyes wide as you scanned the patio just to the side, he was quick to round the Bronco and open the door for you. He grinned when you shot him a look, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief as he awaited your teasing comment about chivalry, but you both remained quiet for a moment as you crossed the parking lot.
The bar itself looked like something plucked from your fondest childhood memories; a clash of past and present with an arcade facade, a mini-golf course, batting cages, and a go-kart track out back, all accompanied by a few bars scattered around, and you were struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia as gravel crunched beneath your feet.
Bradley seemed to be, too, as he gestured to the course with a grin. “I think every mini-golf place I ever went to growing up had one of those bridges.” He pointed to an awkward length bridge, covering the short distance between holes split by a trickle of water meant to represent a river, and you laughed.
“At least they’re useful.” At that moment, a small group climbed single file over the bridge - when they could’ve easily just stepped over - and you hummed. “Well, sort of. All the ones on the Gulf Coast have random alligators.” Bradley’s laughter was cut short as he raised a brow, question of whether you meant real alligators or statues - or maybe both - but you only shrugged. 
Though you hadn’t been stationed together in years, you’d kept up with one another. Any time you moved, packed it all up and traded this coast for that one, you shared the details with one another. Bradley had been sent photos from Florida - pictures of alligators and Disney and stormy beaches - while you were sent photos from Virginia and, after the fact, the middle of the ocean.
The only time either of you kept your relocation a secret was his initial return to Fightertown as it came after yours and he’d wanted to surprise you.
That line of conversation and the following contemplative silence didn’t last very long as Bradley spared you a glance. “What were you thinking so hard about on the drive? Thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears.”
Bradley was often direct with you, asked questions you would sometimes prefer not to answer, but there was no chance you intended to share your line of thinking. He would get it, you knew that, but the conversation was unnecessary as you were doing just fine hiding it all. So, you shook your head and offered him your best smile. “Doesn’t matter. Just a long week.” That wasn’t technically a lie, it had been a painfully long week, but he didn’t need to know that all thoughts outside of him ceased to exist the moment you stepped out your front door to see him waiting for you. Instead, you attempted to redirect by gesturing to the batting cages. “We starting or ending there?”
There was a look in his eyes that made you fearful he would continue his line of questioning, one that said he didn’t believe you, but he seemed to think better of pushing. “I was thinking we end there,” he reasoned as he glanced over and offered you a half-smile. “Build the suspense, you know?”
“Or get enough drinks in that neither of us will be up to our usual.” It was playfully accusatory, teasing in a way that felt so natural with Bradley, and you felt a small sense of triumph as he laughed.
“You were in a batting cage, I was day drinking,” he reminded you, snickering as he repeated your quip from earlier in the week. When you cut your eyes at him, his smile seemed to double in size. “A beer or two won’t have any impact at all on my batting average, Angel.”
“I’d like to say that I’m surprised,” you sighed as you stepped through the front door, “but I don’t think I am.”
Bradley rolled his eyes fondly as he followed you inside, close behind to keep from being separated. “C’mon,” he urged, “first round’s on me.”
Knowing Bradley, every round would be on him. He’d insisted since being reunited, declared he was making up for lost time when he dragged you out on nights he knew you’d rather be in bed, but you knew better. Bradley was better with actions than with words - small gestures, such as buying a round or completing an annoying to-do list task - and used them to show that he cared.
This was a conversation you’d had a dozen times before, a fight he never let you win, so you made no effort to argue as you headed for the bar.
The entire building was impressive, decorated to match the overall theme of childhood nostalgia with neon signs and patterned carpet. The walls were lined with old games - Pac-Man, Space Invaders, pinball machines - and it seemed that everywhere you turned, there was something new to discover.
Little conversation was shared at first as both you and Bradley were too busy marveling at the sheer size of the space. It was almost overwhelming, too many choices in one building, but soon, you were wandering through the vastness of it all in search of your next activity.
Much of the night passed in a blur of bright colors and loud noises. The games themselves were fun, easy enough when you had a drink in your hand - though you and Bradley both kept it light with only one drink each, too busy having fun to return to the bar and wait. Bradley’s presence, however, made it all the better.
Bradley kept you close as you weaved through the crowds, one hand at the center of your back - respectful, but still enough to have your breath catching in your throat with every press of his fingers as you felt the warmth of his palm through the material of your top. 
While you opted against the go-karts and mini-golf, you’d already formulated a plan to return with the rest of the Daggers in tow. You and Bradley mapped it all out between games of skee ball and Crazy Taxi - you’d begin with go-karts, before the group started drinking, and end with the pair of you showing everyone up in the batting cages. It was perfect, silly and fun, and you found yourself forgetting everything that wasn’t the immense joy you were experiencing.
Hours passed in a haze of giddy laughter and jokes traded at the others’ expense before you finally made your way outside. With his hand still at the center of your back, slipping lower with every step, Bradley guided you to the batting cages with a grin.
“Alright, slugger,” he teased, eyes bright and glittering in the overhead lights as he gestured to the rack of bats. “Lady’s first. Show me how it’s done.”
With a playful shake of your head, you stepped away from Bradley and reached for a helmet and a bat. There was no doubt that he believed you - he believed nearly everything you said, whether he should have or not - but he was once a pitcher, too. It was an experience you shared, one few people you saw daily understood, and you knew this was less about you proving yourself and more about finding something you had in common and celebrating it.
The entire night was a way to spend time together doing something you both loved, something you rarely got to indulge in these days, and you were grateful he’d suggested it. Even as you stepped into the batting cage, weight of Bradley’s gaze heavy against your skin, you felt nothing but the giddy excitement you’d been experiencing since stepping foot into the bar.
Had it been anyone else, you might’ve felt nervous. The teasing, the playful jeering as you took a few practice swings, might’ve made you afraid of looking stupid. But this was Bradley. While he could be competitive, it was always playful - with you, anyway. This was fun and you knew he would cheer you on regardless, so you nodded when he asked if you were ready to start.
When the first ball came flying toward you, speed at the max setting, you inhaled deeply before taking a swing. The ball whistled as it soared high, a resounding ‘ping’ echoed through the cages and earned a few glances from passersby, and you felt a sort of relief as it flew into the net before bouncing back toward the return.
Laughter, amused and a little awed, rang out behind you as you caught Bradley shake his head from the corner of your eye. “You weren’t joking.”
“You almost sound surprised, Bradshaw,” you teased, though he didn’t - not in the slightest. “This one’s going to the left, top corner,” you informed him as you shifted your hips and waited for the next ball.
As it flew high and left with another sharp ‘ping,’ Bradley leaned against the barrier and folded his arms over his chest. “Where are we goin’ for dinner?” The question was asked with a smile, bright and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Your choice since I’m clearly going to be paying for it.”
“It’s not over ’til it’s over.” Even as you spoke, words interrupted by a huff of effort as you took a swing, Bradley seemed unconvinced. And, if he’d been as honest as you, he had every reason to be. With a laugh, you offered, “I was thinking about that place by the beach, the one with the cool patio.”
“Sure.” Bradley would’ve allowed you to choose regardless - and wouldn’t have let you pay for him, even if you proved to be an awful batter - because that was the kind of friend he’d always been. The restaurant on the beach was a shared favorite, however, a staple that you visited at least once a month, and you knew you would’ve likely ended up there, anyway. So, you felt little remorse about your choice, even as he continued. “You’re only two balls in but you win,” he relented, laughing as he lifted his soda to take a sip. “Where’s this one headed?”
“Straight up the middle.”
Between pitches, you spared him a glance over your shoulder. You expected him to look bemused, pretending to be put out by your ability, but there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was fond, brighter than you expected, and you almost convinced yourself it was pride that had his shoulders set a little straighter as a passing pair praised your ability.
Even the brief notion that Bradley was proud of you, impressed by your ability in a way few others had been, was enough to warm you from within. Heat flooded your veins, much as it did every time he spared you a wayward compliment, and it took a conscious effort to keep yourself from preening under his scrutiny.
“Why am I not surprised you’re a place hitter?” His question was punctuated with another resounding ‘ping,’ followed by a ball flying into the net, as he shook his head once more. “Starting to think you were grown in a lab, Angel.” 
It was clearly teasing, a soft jab accompanied by laughter, but you couldn’t help the bashful shrug as you readied yourself for another ball. His jokes about your perfection had become more frequent, accompanied by soft laughter, and though you knew he’d witnessed your flaws, it still made your skin prickle any time Bradley saw the good in you.
Still, you swallowed the warmth and tightened your grip on the bat. “Told you, batting cages while you were day drinking.” There was a brief pause as you took another swing, this hit a line drive to the left, before you admitted, “Softball and nursing school didn’t leave much time for fun or friends so, batting cage it was.”
“We would’ve been friends,” he declared, certain in a way you wished you could be - though you were grateful to have met him later in life. You knew yourself well enough to know that you likely wouldn’t have been able to handle the schoolgirl crush you’d formed almost immediately after meeting him, not then. But Bradley didn’t give you much time to dwell as he hummed, “We could’ve been day drinking and hitting the batting cages together.”
“I don’t know if I would’ve befriended frat boy Bradley.” Though you offered him a teasing grin, laughed when he rolled his eyes, you knew that you would have. You were half-certain that you would’ve found Bradley in any life and fallen just as hard, no matter the circumstances of your meeting. But you kept that realization to yourself as you teased, “His idea of fun sounds like it could end in an ER visit.”
“Would’ve given a student nurse some real life experience,” he reasoned, smile growing into something brilliant when you laughed. “But at least you admit it sounds like fun.” Bradley tipped his head then, brows furrowing as he watched you take another swing. “Why’d you play, though? Nursing always sounded hard enough without being an athlete, too.”
Over the years, you’d had more conversations with Bradley than you could count. There were very few topics that hadn’t come up as you shared nearly everything - your career, your friends, your hobbies, your interests, your hometowns - but family was one of them. And, in a long line of similarities, your reason for playing softball and his reason for playing baseball was rooted in family.
Bradley once mentioned that baseball was originally deigned something to do, a task that got him out of the house and incorporated him into the community when he and his mother moved to Virginia after Goose’s death. He once shared that it was something his father loved as a child, an alternate life path he could’ve taken, and indulging in it made him feel a little closer to the father he missed. He admitted that it made him feel weightless - long before he experienced true weightlessness in the cockpit of a jet - but he’d never asked you why.
It was just one of those things that went unspoken until it didn’t.
“Family,” you revealed, not bothering to turn even as he made a noise of understanding. “My grandmother played. She got married and had kids really young. Sports weren’t really a thing for women in her time, anyway, but there was a rec league in town. She was amazing; a switch hitter, place hitter, a damn good pitcher. If she’d been born a little later, she could’ve made a life for herself playing. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. My mom tried to take after her but she never really got the hang of it. I was the only one who did, so, I guess I figured I had to be the one to live the dream for them.”
The weight of your rationale was not lost on Bradley, you knew that, but he was never one to push for more. That was enough, enough vulnerability for a batting cage in the middle of a crowd, so he shifted. “Do you still play?”
Once upon a time, after a handful of drinks and a few stories about the Naval Academy from the Daggers, Bradley shared the things he missed about college. Baseball was one of them as he hadn’t played since graduation. He’d been asked, a handful of times, to join in on the odd pickup game here or there but it wasn’t the same and you knew that. There was little a pickup game could do to recapture the feeling you’d experienced on a field with teammates but Bradley seemed to realize that you’d at least swung a bat since graduating.
“Sometimes,” you confirmed, finally sparing him a sideways glance. Those brown eyes followed your every move, every shift of your hips or flex of your foot, and you felt your skin prickle under his scrutiny. You shrugged, returning your gaze to the machine, and took a deep breath. “I join local leagues when I can, if I hear about them. It was easier when I was working at a hospital with civilian nurses but most of the time, they don’t really want me joining in. I can never promise I’ll be around for a whole season or that I can make it to everything. I get it, though. They want someone who’s going to be there.”
When the machine finally shut off, you turned to face Bradley. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read - something contemplative, softer than you expected - as he declared, “Their loss. They’d be lucky to have you, Angel.”
Bradley’s sincerity was obvious, almost achingly so, and you felt your heart clench at his declaration. It meant more than you knew it should but before you could dwell, consider exactly how it made you feel, Bradley headed for the controls.
“Wait,” you called out, before he could press the ‘start’ button. “Don’t you want to bat? I feel like I’ve been in here forever.”
“Don’t mind me.” He smiled, this one real and bright, as he gestured to you. You stood, still inside the cage with a bat clutched in one hand, and lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
A storm of butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. Your skin heated, your heart thumped just a bit too hard in your chest, and you had to tip your head to hide your face as you shook your head. There was a slight edge to his voice, a deeper rasp that you’d only heard used at the Hard Deck - locked in conversation with pretty girls you watched him take home instead of you - and you were almost convinced you imagined it. However, before you could question it, Bradley laughed.
“Oh, you’re getting shy on me now? Really?” As desperately as you wanted to make some sort of witty quip, return his teasing with some of your own and hope that your voice didn’t shake, you could only attempt to swallow the warmth creeping up your chest as he pressed the button. “I’m having plenty of fun watching you, Angel. Keep going!”
There was a warmth to Bradley’s comment that seeped into your bones, warmed you from within. Bradley complimented you frequently, sought to make you - and other friends, including Natasha - feel proud, but this was different. There was a weight to everything he’d said throughout the course of the night you’d never felt before.
The weight of his statement, the softness with which he spoke, had your voice catching in your throat as you waited for the machine to start. Your heart continued to thunder in your chest, cheeks heating, but you attempted to disregard the feeling of Bradley’s gaze burning into your skin.
When you finally found your voice, heart still beating just a touch too fast even after the first hit, you shook your head. “One more round,” you relented, “and then you’re up, Bradshaw.”
If Bradley heard the waver in your voice, if he noticed the slight heave of your chest as you fought to even your breathing, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded easily. “Of course. We have to end the night with a laugh,” he reasoned, poking fun at his own abilities. “You gonna be my relief hitter when I strike out?”
“It’s a batting cage, Roo.” It was meant to make you laugh, meant to ease the tension you knew he could see in your shoulders, but it worked as you leaned into a swing. “There are no strikeouts.”
Before he could counter, make some joke that would keep you laughing and fully ease you back into the moment, a passerby - who’d definitely had more than your one drink - yelled, “Damn, man. Your girl’s killing it!”
“Yeah, she is.”
Three words, a simple acknowledgement of a drunken compliment, and you nearly missed the next pitch that flew toward you. It likely meant nothing to him - he likely hadn’t even noticed the man call you his girl - but if you weren’t careful, you knew this moment would play on a loop in the back of your mind. 
It was intoxicating, the idea that someone else saw you as Bradley’s girl, but you made a herculean effort to stay focused on the task at hand as you took swing after swing. A handful of passersby continued to cheer, drunken words of encouragement rang out with every ball you sent soaring, but Bradley kept quiet as you flew through the remaining pitches on the machine.
There were no witty quips, no jokes, and you were grateful for the relative silence as you allowed the repetitive motion to calm your rapidly beating heart.
Finally, when the machine reached zero and you’d reached a state of semi-normalcy, you turned to watch as he grabbed his own helmet and bat.
Bradley approached with a smile, though it was softer than it had been all night - gentle, almost timid in a way you’d never seen him - and brushed your shoulder with his own as you passed in the entryway. Though it was far from the first time he’d touched you, a jolt of electricity flew through your body at the contact and you struggled to inhale deeply as you offered him what you hoped to be a teasing grin.
“Alright, frat boy,” you hummed, voice quieter than you intended but still playful enough, “show me what you’ve got.”
The quip made Bradley laugh, even as he shook his head at the nickname. “Prepare to be woefully underwhelmed, Angel,” he teased, offering you a grin as he settled into his stance.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
With a nod from Bradley, you pressed the ‘start’ button and watched as the first pitch flew toward him. And, with that very first swing, you knew he’d been telling the truth.
Bradley’s first attempt ended in a foul ball, right off the tip of the bat, and the second fell just a little too close to his hands. His third was a complete miss, though he made a decent effort, and you lifted your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. 
There was no telling how much of this was an act - playing up his lack of ability to make you laugh, to make you feel better about your own prowess - but you couldn’t help yourself as you winced when he dropped his shoulder and missed a third ball.
“Nevermind. You really are a shitty batter, Bradshaw.”
“Funny, that’s what every coach I’ve ever had said.” When you laughed, shaking your head at his self-deprecating joke, Bradley took another swing. With another miss, he spared you a quick glance over his shoulder. “This is why I was a pitcher,” he acknowledged, glancing at a ball that rolled past his feet. “Next time, we’ll go to a field somewhere and I can redeem myself.”
“No redemption necessary. I believe you’re a good pitcher,” you promised him, laughing as he jolted away from a ball spiraling too close for his comfort. “Pitchers aren’t supposed to be able to hit.”
Bradley made yet another attempt and you nearly clapped as this one connected and flew into the top right corner. With it, Bradley laughed. “That’s the best you’re gonna get,” he declared, smiling as he spared you another glance. “Press stop for me, Angel?”
With a laugh of your own, you pressed the ‘stop’ button and waited a moment for Bradley to exit the batting cage. As he stepped out, returned his helmet and bat, you took a moment to study him.
Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. Though you kept your feelings for him a closely guarded secret, everyone knew you found him attractive. You weren’t the only one who thought so, especially on those nights he wore the jeans that hugged his thighs just right to the Hard Deck - especially on the nights he wore his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, collar of his undershirt weighed down by aviators and exposing a sliver of sun kissed skin - but you were always struck by just how pretty he was up close.
Though you’d never been much of a fan of the mustache - a commonality on every base you’d ever been stationed at, especially among pilots - it worked for Bradley. It suited him and you were glad he hadn’t been talked out of it yet.
Even on the toughest of days, Bradley always offered you a smile. He made it a point to be honest with you, to tell you when he felt rough or when he’d seen better days, but he always left having shared at least one smile. It was always encouraging, always there when you needed it, and you were grateful that Bradley deemed you worthy of his smile.
And those eyes - warm and beautiful, always so expressive whenever he regarded you - never failed to make you weak in the knees. With every gaze you shared, with every glance exchanged, you found yourself falling deeper into a hole you knew you would never be able to climb free from.
However, as Bradley turned to you, you felt the air escape your lungs as you began to realize that you were alright with never being able to climb free.
As afraid as you were that the comfort you found in Bradley would be lost should you allow yourself to fall completely, you realized that he would never allow that. 
Bradley had been a part of your life for years, there for you through the best and worst moments of your life. No matter what happened, he’d proven to be a constant - a home for you to return to in even the most troubling of times. There was never any doubt that he would remain in your life, even if you learned what it was to love and lose Bradley Bradshaw, and you began to accept that.
In a stunning moment of realization, you came to the understanding that should you choose to give this a try, should Bradley want you in the way that you wanted him, he would do everything in his power to be there for you regardless. And should he not want you - though, as you finally gave yourself the space to consider, you wondered if the things you rationalized as friendship actually meant more to him - he would never leave you out in the cold.
Even if everything that could go wrong did go wrong, even if a relationship happened and ended in heartbreak, you were confident that Bradley Bradshaw would remain constant.
After years of stability, years of love and patience, there was little that could push him away. 
“Angel?” Bradley’s voice broke through the haze, drew you out of your thoughts and back to reality as you blinked at him. He frowned, concerned, and took a half-step closer as he studied your face. “Are you okay? I lost you for a minute.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” With a smile, you gave Bradley a nod - hopefully convincing him that you were, in fact, alright - before gesturing to the mini-golf course. “I think we played everything inside but there’s always mini-golf, if you want to keep playing. But I’m good if you want to call it a night.”
“I think my pride’s taken a severe enough hit,” he teased, expression relaxing slightly as he glanced toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost past your bedtime, anyway.”
Though you rolled your eyes, you shook your head fondly as Bradley fell into step beside you and began heading slowly toward the Bronco. 
The question you’d wanted to ask for a long while - whether Bradley wanted the relationship you did, whether he saw you win the same light - lingered on the tip of your tongue. After years of wondering ‘what-if,’ you finally allowed yourself to ask the question aloud.
“Bradley?” Warm brown eyes met yours, soft and still slightly concerned, as he hummed his acknowledgement. “Is this…” You weighed your words for a moment, considering, before you finally settled on a question. “Are we on a date right now?”
A soft, half-smile lifted the corner of Bradley’s mouth as he reached into his pocket in search of his keys. It was almost bashful, the way he ducked his head, and you swallowed to keep yourself grounded as you waited.
“I wanted it to be,” he admitted, voice quiet as the din of the bar began to fade. “I was going to really ask, make it obvious that’s what I wanted, I just…”
Bradley’s hesitation felt familiar. His shrug, noncommittal and questioning, was the same thing you found yourself doing whenever Natasha questioned why you refused to make a move. There was a tinge of fear in the pink dusting his cheeks, in the set of his shoulders as you approached the Bronco, and you held your breath as he shook his head.
“I like being your friend. I’m happy to be your friend,” he stressed, coming to a stop at the passenger side of the Bronco. In the dim light of the parking lot, Bradley’s eyes glittered as they met yours. “I haven’t spent this long being your friend as some sort of consolation prize, worried you didn’t like me back. This isn’t settling and I don’t see our friendship as less than a relationship,” he assured you, soothing a worry you’d buried deep - one he likely sensed all along. “I just… I always knew it wasn’t the right time, we were both trying to establish ourselves. But when we were apart, I thought about you all the time. I missed you all the time, more than anyone else.”
Knowing that Bradley valued your friendship first, believed it to be important - worth as much as romantic love, not something he simply settled for in place of something he’d rather have - made your chest ache as you reached out to place a hand on his bicep.
“I missed you, too, Bradley.” When his eyes met yours, smile soft and gaze so reverential it nearly stole your breath, you couldn’t help but take a half-step closer.
Bradley remained quiet for a moment, as if considering his words, before he smiled bashfully. “I’ve always thought about this,” he admitted, hand lifting to cup your cheek. His palm seared your skin, warm and heavy and a comfort you’d wished for for years, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued.
“Why now?”
It wasn’t a question you needed an answer to, not at that moment - not under the buzz of a streetlight and in the view of drunken strangers - but it seemed important as you struggled to focus on anything other than the warmth of Bradley’s skin pressed to yours.
“Mav. He got his second chance with Penny,” Bradley reminded you, voice soft. “We never lost touch but this was another chance. I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”
“Kiss me.” Bradley smiled then, clearly pleased by your request, and leaned in. He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a chaste peck, and you nearly laughed at the feeling of his facial hair brushing your skin. His lips, slightly chapped, were warm and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck as you mumbled against his mouth, “Like you mean it, Roo.”
With a half-step, you pressed yourself impossibly closer and released the years of longing you’d suffered into the kiss. Fireworks popped behind your eyelids, blood simmered in your veins as heat engulfed your entire body, and you wondered if every kiss would be this wonderful as Bradley’s free hand fell to your waist. His fingers pressed into your hip, lips working against yours, as everything around you ceased to exist.
Despite the heat of the night, the dimness of the parking lot, you would’ve been content to remain there for the rest of the night. All that mattered was Bradley, his body pressed to yours as years of longing were swept away, but all too soon, a loud cheer broke through the blissful haze.
A group of drunken passersby cheered, whistled and encouraged you both as they wandered through the parking lot to meet an Uber, and you pulled away from Bradley with a laugh. As you tipped your head to hide your smile, mild embarrassment heating your skin, you decided that the moment still couldn’t have been better.
Bradley seemed to agree as he grinned and brushed a thumb across your cheekbone. “I can’t bat to save my life but I think tonight was a home run,” he teased, laughing as you groaned at the pun. “C’mon, let me take you home.”
“Please. Before I decide I’ve had enough of the awful jokes and leave you hanging.”
Years had passed in which you suffered through Bradley’s awful jokes with a patient smile and a disbelieving laugh. There was little you wouldn’t do for him, even less he wouldn’t do for you, but you were still left giddy by his rolling eyes. “There’s no getting rid of me now,” he promised, laughing as he started up the Bronco. “We’re in it for the long haul.”
It was a promise, one that you hoped he’d be able to keep, and you felt a surge of hope for the future.
There was no expectation for the rest of the night, no pressure as you made your way back to your place, and you were content with that. Neither of you said much on the drive, simply allowed yourselves to exist together, and for the first time, you had no worries about ‘what-if.’ Instead, there was only the thought of ‘what could be.’
A deeper conversation had to be had, you both knew that, but there would be time for that later. There was an entire future awaiting you both.
And instead of wishing it to arrive so soon, you focused solely on the moment at hand.
As Bradley walked you up the sidewalk, palm warm in your own, you made no effort to wipe the smile from your lips. The giddy feeling in your chest made you feel as if you were walking on air, excited for the possibilities that now seemed endless.
The unknown was always terrifying and there was no guarantee for the future - no guarantee for anything more than the moment at hand. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been a constant.  He’d been by your side for years, steady and true and loving. He was home, a light in the dark, and he was right; with him, you’d certainly hit a home run.
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Author’s Note: It has been a Shit week. I’m going to go rewatch Top Gun and lay in the dark for a while. Enjoy the friends to lovers fun.
Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​
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themorriganwitch · 10 months
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Never alone
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Summary: Bradley finds you curled up on your living room floor, crying your heart out because your body image issues got the best of you
Trigger Warning: This One Shot contains mentions of self harm, body issues, Eating disorder and extremely overwhelming thought. 
Words: 1,8k
A/N: This one shot means a lot to me, since it evolves around my own experience with body image issues, self harm and ED. If you are struggling with any on these topics, please know that you are valid and loved. If you ever want to talk about these things, feel free to send my a DM
Reblogs and Comments are always dearly appreciated
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Your day actually started pretty good. It was a relaxing Saturday; the sun was shining, and you were able to sleep in since there was no need for a timer. The air was warm but breezy, so you wore your new green sundress, the one Bradley had gifted you last week because he saw it and it made him think of you. Then you headed out to meet Natasha for a late Brunch in the city.
You had an amazing time with your best friend, you laughed till your bellies hurt and talked about her upcoming vacation plans as well as about your bachelorette party next month. After you waved her goodbye when she climbed into her black Jeep, you had decided to make a short detour to your favorite clothing store, wanting to pick up a new set of lingerie to surprise Bradley as soon as he would be home after his day out with his boys.
But as soon as you slipped into the first set you picked out, a dark red one – your fiancées favorite color, and saw yourself in the mirror of the fitting room your entire mood changed.
Did your thighs really look that huge? Have your upper arms always been that wobbly? And your belly- you knew that you had gained some weight since you started your relationship, you just hadn’t notice how much you had gained, at least not until now.
And that’s how you found yourself sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing nothing but some panties and one of Bradley’s old shirts, eyes red and puffy from all the tears that had streamed out. You could not really wrap your head around why you are triggered to such an extent; you barely had any problems with your ED anymore since you went to therapy and worked through your issues related to food and self-perception.
But right now, you just felt like your 19-year-old self again who was lying on the cold bathroom floor crying their heart out while begging the Universe to just make the pain stop. To make you look like anybody else, to simply make that monster inside your brain, who told you to go to bed starving every. single. night. - stop.
Unworthy.
 Unlovable.
 Ugly. 
All those thoughts circulated around your messed up brain, spiraling over and over until you had the feeling that you must die to make this horrendous pain stop.
Against knowing better, you spiraled even further, walking in the kitchen to grab the last chocolate ice cream cub that was left in the refrigerator. Hoping this would help to numb the emotional turmoil that had taken control over your entire body.
About thirty minutes later you found yourself again on the couch, t-shirt covered in brown stains while the tears had started to fall again. Your sobbing became frantically, your stomach was bloated painfully from all the ice cream you ate and now regret.
Trying to cover your emotions with food never worked and now you felt even worse than you did when you came home.
You lie down on the ground next to the couch, forehead pressed onto the cold tiles in the desperating attempt to ground yourself and simply sit this episode out, knowing very well that if this would not work you would go back into the kitchen, grabbing anything sharp you could find and stab your arms hoping the physical pain would over wash the emotional one.
Why did you have to go through this again and again?
Were you really this awful? How could Bradley even love you? You were ugly and obviously mentally unstable. He deserved better. So much better. After everything he had been through, he just deserved someone normal. Someone beautiful. Someone who is stable in themselves and who do not burden him with even more emotional ballast.
The voices in your head and the sobs you still could not managed to hold in were becoming so loud, that you did not notice how your fiancée stepped into your shared living room, a wide smile on the lips which slowly fades as soon as his eyes catch your embrace.
“Honey?”, he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He slowly made his way to you, trying not to frighten you since it didn’t seem that you had noticed him.
His heart ached at his view: the love of his life curled up on the cold floor, your breath unregular from all the loud sobs escaping your lips. “Honey”, he tried again, this time a little louder.
If he thought the sight in front of him was hurtful a couple of minutes ago, he could feel his heart shatter as soon as you lift your head, eyes red and puffy, tears still running down your redden cheeks.
“I’m so sorry”, you said, voice raspy from what feels like hours of crying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry”, you repeated yourself all over again, gratefully throwing yourself into Bradley’s strong arms as he sunk next to you on the ground.
“Shhh it’s okay, baby”, he said, rubbing your back in soothing motions as he pressed a loving kiss onto your hair. “I’m so sorry. So so sorry”, you repeated again and again.
After something that felt like hours, Bradley had managed to maneuver the two of you back on the couch, your head pressed in the crook of his neck while your sobs slowly start to fade. Your boyfriend had barely spoken to you, except for the occasional “It’s okay, I am here with you” and “Let it all out, you are safe with me”.
“What happened, baby girl?”, Bradley asked softly, after he made sure you were now calm enough to answer his question.
You cleared your throat, before lifting your head to meet your boyfriend’s beautiful hazel eyes. “I am not sure. I went out with Nat for Brunch and then…”, you went ahead and told him everything about your day and how you ended up on your living room floor.
Bradley sighed sadly. He knew about your body image issues and your Ed, you had told him about it after a couple of months after you had started your relationship. He knew all about your struggles, your nearly manic episodes when your thoughts tend to get the best of you, and you spiral deeper and deeper. “What were you thinking?” he asked, attempting to give you the opportunity to get rid of your overwhelming thoughts.
You closed your eyes, debating with yourself if you should tell him the truth, terrified of the idea he could think you are insane. But then you looked at him and you saw nothing but love and admiration in his eyes and you just knew that if you could not tell Bradley about what was going on, there would never be someone who could understand you.
“I just were in this fitting room, and I felt so ugly. So so ugly. And then I went home, and I just felt so awful, and I did not know what to do and in my head, everything got worse and worse. And then I asked myself why you could ever want me. Like you deserve so much, Bradley. You are the love of my life. You deserve someone stable, someone who does not carry that much baggage with themselves. Someone who is worthy of you love and someone who is”- you were not able to move on, because he cut you off, staring at you wide eyed.
“Hold on. Hold on”, he said, brows furrowed in concern. “Baby, how could you ever think that you are not worthy of me? Please listen carefully, honey. I love you; I love you so much that sometimes it feels like my heart must explode in my chest from all those emotions you make me feel. I know we are not married yet, but when I asked you to share your life with me, I promised you that I will love you always. Endlessly. Unconditionally. And I don’t care if you are not perfect, because no one is Baby. Even though, for me, you are”, he smiled softly at you, cupping your heated cheek with his right hand.
“You are the most beautiful person I ever had the pleasure to meet. No matter if you are all dolled up in sexy red lingerie or in dirty sweatpants and one of my old navy t-shirts. I don’t care if you gained weight, nor do I care if your thighs might look bigger than normal cause our bodies simply fluctuate from time to time. But I do care about how you are feeling about yourself, and if you don’t feel good about yourself, I am here to talk to. Please, for the love of God, please talk to me. We are a team, baby girl. Your problems are my problems, and your enemies are my enemies. And it does not matter if I must get at an actual person or the monster you have in the darkness of your thoughts. I am here to fight with you. And I will always fight for you. Okay?” You nod, again feeling tears swelling in your eyes but now not because of the overwhelming hate you feel for yourself but for the soothing love your fiancée makes you feel. As he always makes you feel. “I’m sorry”, you said. “I should have called you as soon as I knew how this would go down. But I was just so in my thoughts – “.
“No need to apologize”, Bradley interrupted you. “Next time you simply remember what to do. So, what do you think about taking a bath together? Getting you all cleaned up and then we can drink a tea, cuddle up in bed and watch an episode of the office?”
“That sounds great”, you answered smitten. “I love you, Bradley Bradshaw”.
“Not as much as I love you”, he answered before pressing a tender kiss onto your lips.
He heaved his big body from the couch, taking your hand and leading you both down the hallway to your bathroom.
The both of you knew that you would still have some stuff to talk about in the morning, but right now everything that matters were that you had your boyfriend right by you side.
Your boyfriend who just again showed how deeply in love he was with you, and that no matter how much your thoughts try to get the best of you, he would always be by your side to fight the demons inside your brain. With you. Together. Forever.
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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year
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Lavender Haze
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✰ Midnights Masterlist
✰ Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/n
✰ Word Count: 3 K
✰ Warning: Toxic family and sexism (reader's parents), drinking, fluff, smutty themes, protective!Jake
✰ A/n: This was only supposed to be a blurb, but here we are 3000 words later... I don't know what a blurb is apparently. Also, I do not have a taglist, follow my library and turn on notifications for updates!
✰ Library
Staring at the ceiling with you
Oh, you don't ever say too much
And you don't really read into
My melancholia
“You still with me darlin’?”
The question pulls you from your daydream, and you glance back at Jake. His hand gives you a gentle squeeze when he sees the tense smile you force yourself to make, and shifts closer to you automatically. Slightly moving back farther into the settee and pulling your body closer to him, as his arm settles behind your back.
“I just hate coming here, they’re overbearing.”
As you mutter the words, your eyes flitter around the room taking in the spectacle that is your parents. The decor of your parents' house was always rich and elegant, though the added dried lavender was a new addition. Your mother had claimed that given it was spring, lavender could be the theme of the party. Resulting in not only dried lavender everywhere but hints of purple decor, lining the walls. There had been so much lavender added to the house, the smell was overbearing, and mixed with the purple décor, together they were both giving you a migraine.
You were used to the incessant loop of people coming in and out of your house, throughout your childhood a weekly was the usual occurrence.
Though now seeing so many unfamiliar faces, you quietly wondered what your parents must have done to run off those that you grew up with. The current array of your parent’s friends were snobby elites that clearly had too much money, and each of them was as annoying as the next. The constant string of questions and judgmental looks, while they rotate you through the groups like a stab of meat, was something you became accustomed to at a young age. But as you’ve gotten old it only seems to have worsened, and socially acceptable boundaries didn't exist when it came to questions about your life.
It was no easy task being the only daughter of Texas socialites; privacy had become a foreign topic and you could no longer do right in your parent’s eyes. Having left the state quite abruptly, when you decided to follow Jake to California and finish your degree online, was only the tip of your ever-growing list of disappointments. The long list ranged from the fact that you weren't married yet, to how you hadn't given them a grandchild, and so forth.
Coming home hadn’t even been your choice, but Jake was coming home to Austin to visit his family and the decision had been made. You loved Jake’s family and the decision to see them after 9 months was easy.
The visit was supposed to be 2 weeks with his family only, though your plans were quickly demolished when your mother called and heard Jake playing with his nieces. Your plan to play it off as they came to California for a visit would have worked if your mother didn’t have to put her nose in other people’s business.
Though like the wonderful woman she is, she called Jake’s mother almost instantly and found out the truth. You were in no way upset with Liz, she was the sweetest woman that you had ever met, and you hadn’t exactly mentioned that you were avoiding your family. While the Seresin family knew that your family didn't always get along, the drama that accompanied your family name, wasn't something that you wanted to bring them into.
Though the slip-up landed you here, back on your parent’s estate and drinking your sorrows away. The “herbalist” Lavender Champagne was one that your mother learned about in a Martha Stewart cookbook, though she had told everyone that Martha had given it to her personally. Typical behavior from the woman; she’s always been a compulsive liar.
The lavender stems were anything but calming, and more so a frufru additive to the imported drink, subsequently it had helped the 4-hour dinner party move faster. You were on your third glass, while Jake had switched to scotch after dinner and the small buzz was a welcomed distraction.
The home you and Jake found on the highly uncomfortable settee, which was more for show than anything, had been your safe haven. The both of you settled it after you had done one set of rounds and had stayed in it since. Though the luxury fades away as you see your mother heading through the crowd, with a group of women and making a b-line for you and Jake.
“Sweetie, you might want to slip away before the crows can sink their claws into you.”
The group of older women had no sense of personal space when it came to Jake, the constant pawing and flirting was an event that you would only let Jake deal with once tonight. Jake's gaze moves to where your staring and instantly sucks in a harsh breath. He sits the both of you upright, before placing a kiss on your cheek and moving to leave.
“Signal if you need me darlin’.”
“And how should I do that?” the teasing tone in your voice, makes him smile. Glad to see that even with the events of the night, you can still be your chipper, sarcastic self.
“I mean, you could just start yelling mayday like a lunatic, but a subtle ‘excuse me I need a refill’ should suffice.”
The wink that Jake gives you, before slipping past your mother barely avoiding her clutch, has you giggling. Though you’re quick to cover it up when your mother glares at you and takes a seat next to you, motioning the group of ladies to do the same.
All they keep asking me
Is if I'm gonna be your bride
The only kinda girl they see
Is a one-night or a wife
“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Your mother always has so much to say about you.”
You can’t quite remember the lady's name, the rotation of women your mother kept was highly overwhelming and quite petty. Though you can only nod to the woman, as another interrupts and asks about you and Jake.
The hand your mother had settled on your back tenses slightly, as she jabs one of her nails into your lower back and you fight to hide your wince. Her own voice takes over the question for you, leaving you to glance around the room. You catch sight of Jake over by the liquor cabinet, surrounded by your father’s friends from the country club.
The well-tailored slacks and blazer had had your mouth watering from the moment you saw them on him. The heat of your gaze must alert him to your staring, as his emerald, green eyes flash to you and a teasing smirk crosses his lips.  The cheeky wink he gives you has you looking away quickly and you can’t help but blush knowing that you’ve been caught.
“– isn’t that right Y/n?”
Your attention is quickly back on the group when you hear your mother state your name. A small hum falls from your lips, in hopes that your mother will, willingly repeat what she said.
“You and Jake.” Her harsh tone is followed by another jab to your spine, and you slightly grit your teeth in pain and annoyance.
“Yes, Jake and I are going on our five-year anniversary.”
Your smile is genuine when it crosses your face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the surrounding group. You and Jake met when you were only 15 and started dating right after high school. He was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you were thankful that your relationship had stayed so strong through the years.
The topic of marriage had come up many times, though you had expressed that you wanted to finish school before you tied the knot. Knowing that your mother would want a “perfect” wedding that was a grand event; was an added stress that you couldn't have right now alongside your studies.
“And yet there’s no ring?” The statement more so, than a question comes from your Aunt Fran and the harsh tease is hard to miss when the ladies around you silently whisper.
“We’re very happy, with our current status.” The sweet smile you give is anything but, “Unlike some of you, I’m not actively looking for a husband with a formidable amount of money for me to spend.”
This time you can’t hide your wince when your mother jabs at your back, and the once slightly painful action, now has your back bowing away from her hand. If the ladies notice your reaction, no one says anything and the harsh glare from your mother has you tipping the rest of your champagne back.
“I’d be careful darling. You’re almost 25, and well, he’s bound to get bored with you.”
You give your aunt a tight smile, holding your tongue as you glance at the clock on the overhead wall. The comment wasn't one you hadn't heard before, but the delivery of it seemed to get blunter each time she said it. The ticking of the hands is a welcomed sight, as the big hand slowly moves toward the twelve and brings you that much closer to your escape.
They're bringing up my history
But you weren't even listening
The topic of conversation quickly drifted to the current Texas politics and gossip from around town, while you quietly zoned out and enjoy the growing buzz that the champagne fills you with. The ladies’ voices drown together and their high-pitched laughter only adds to your growing migraine. The hand that had been resting in your lap comes to rub your head, and rakes through your hair to push the strands from your face.
Jake had been watching you since the moment he left you, not trusting your mother and what she could bring up. He’d noticed each wince you had tried to hold in; over the years he had become a custom to your actions and could always tell when your mother was behind said actions.
“So, Jake is y/n behaving for you? She’s never been good at listening; I can imagine she only gotten worse with the move.”
Jake had been used to your parents constantly harping on you and putting you down, though it was never easy. Jake had seen you through all of your teenage years, and he knew for a fact that you had never questioned your parents. You had always been the kind sweet girl, that worried about good grades and making sure she never disappointed anyone.
Well, up until you decided to go to university and move to California with Jake. Those two decisions had been the cataclysmic event that pushed the snowball off the hill, leading it into a never-ending roll. Each little problem that your parents found only added to the issues. It had become a compilation of why you were a disappointment and reasons to hate you.
The slight glare that Jake gives your father, has him starting in on another topic without Jake’s reply. Though the new topic had been just as bad, if not worse.
“I’m sure you do agree though, that her going to school is unacceptable. A lady’s place is in the home, taking care of things.”
He follows the statement up with a wink, and Jake is slightly stunned by the comment. The whites of his knuckles now visible, with the tightening grasp he has on the scotch glass. Jake would be afraid of breaking it, though it might be a nice distraction. Given the fact that his anger was only growing and the chances of punching your father were only growing.
“Excuses me.”
“I said –”
“No, I know what you said. I just can’t believe how much of a pretentious sexist asshole you are. Y/n is doing exceptional in school, and I am extremely proud of her.” The slight step that Jake takes closer to your father, is hard to miss and though you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew enough, that it wasn’t good.
 “Also, whatever she decides to do with her life, is her decision, not yours. So, I suggest you back the fuck off.”
Surreal
I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say
No deal
The 1950s shit they want from me
As Jake steps away from your father, you give your mother and the ladies surrounding you a look before getting up and making your way toward him.
“You won't be young forever darling. Why I'd be worried already, how do you know he doesn’t have someone on the side?”
The statement is made towards your back as you pass your aunt Fran, it causes you to stiffen slightly. You knew that Jake would never cheat on you, you both loved each other immensely, but that didn't make hearing their bitter comments any easier. It was something you got quite good at, letting each of their comments roll off your back. Though it seemed to work against you, with comments only getting worse after every party when they couldn't get the desired reaction from you.
Jake had made it to your side, just as your mother and aunt started laughing causing the ladies around them to giggle to your demise. His warm hand wraps around your forearm and pulls you into his chest, placing a delicate kiss on your brow before pulling back. His green eyes silently watch you in question, though you can only shake your head in reply. The sooner you left this monstrous house the better.
You may have grown into a strong, brilliant young lady, but being back in this position felt like your parents still had control over you. It felt like you were still that little girl that worked herself to death, just to please those around her.
“Sweetheart let's go home.”
The words are muttered into your ear, as the warmth of Jake’s breath cascades over you and relaxes you slightly. You nod in return, turning your head so your forehead can rest against his own before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
A silent thank you.
You leave the crowd in a blur, only consumed in the comfort Jake brings you. Neither of you tell your parents goodbye, and you silently hope that it will upset them enough that you wouldn’t be invited back.
The cool fresh air of the night calms you as you step outside the house, and Jake's arms slip around your waist as he places delicate kisses along your neck. His chin settles on your neck, while is hands tighten around it, almost as if he was afraid, you would slip away.
“You know how proud I am of you right?”
You hum slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. The buzz from the champagne fades away, and in its place is Jake.
“You amaze me every day sweetheart, and no matter what anyone says, I will always love you.” The loving statement makes you nuzzle back into Jake and place a kiss on his cheek. Though the seriousness of the moment fades, as Jake teasingly bites along the passage of your neck. You tilt your head to the side and let him have full access to the passage, as small moans emit from your lips.
You turn in Jake’s hold, going to wrap your arms around his neck, and place a slow kiss on his lips. The heat radiates between the two of you and has a steady yearning coming from your core. Both of your lips move in sync, slotting perfectly together with no care for the surrounding world.
Jake's hands grasp at your hips, as the material of your dress rises slightly up your thighs and creates the perfect space for Jake to slot his thigh between your own. The tug on your hips causes your core to brush harshly against the material of Jake's slacks. The jolt sent through your body, has you grasping onto Jake’s hair even tighter and pulling at it.
You only pull back when you have to gasp for a breath, though Jake doesn’t hesitate and goes to work on your jawline. The tip back of your head gives him even more access and your eyes barely opening to see the night sky, as a needy moan tumbles from your lips. Your mind lays in a haze of need and want for Jake, more than willing to have him take you on your parent's front lawn.
You pant slightly as Jake places one last kiss on your lips, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours, causing your noses barely brush each other. The green of his eyes shines bright in comparison to the house lamps, and you wonder how you got so lucky.
“I love you.”
Jake had never been shy about expressing his love for you and the three words, even after all these years, still made you feel like you were floating on a cloud. The wide smile that breaks out across your lips only stays for a second, as you press a sweet giddy kiss once again against his lips.
“I love you.”
Your smile mirrors one another other, though it's quickly displaced as Jake's hands that had settled on your hips start to tickle you. Laughter erupts from your chest, as you break out of his hold and run. Your heels fall from your feet, landing in the drive, as your dress flares out behind you.
Jake's own laughing seems to be closing in on you and causes you to speed up, while your own laughs grow louder and interrupt the still night. Your mind is abuzz and clouded with a warm haze, that can only be attributed to Jake and as you glance back once more over your shoulder, his hands grasp onto you and spin you around.
Your lips find a home against each other, and you decide then that the haze Jake fills your mind with, is one you wanted to live in forever.
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imawkwardlysoc · 1 year
Text
"only bought this dress so you could take it off"
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Song: Dress by Taylor Swift
Pairing: bob floyd x reader (afab)
Warning(s): Allusions to smut (not written) & Aftercare
Word Count: 1,913
Summary: Y/N had just moved to Miramar and was invited to the Navy Ball in San Diego by her roommate. Soon when the both of them arrived, Y/N was met with a face she hasn't seen in a long time.
Backing away from the full length mirror, I admired the dress I picked out a few days ago. The muted gold beaded dress hugged my waist in all the right ways. With it being off the shoulder and a sweetheart neckline, it showed the right amount of chest without it being too scandalous.
“Wow, you look amazing.” I looked over to see my roommate, Natasha, entering my room.
“Are you sure? I mean is this appropriate for a naval ball?” I turned to face her.
“Yes, all heads will turn to you when you enter the ballroom,” she reassured me. “Who knows? Maybe a navy man will approach you and you end up going on a date with him, but if it’s Hangman, straight up reject him.”
I laughed at what she said. “Nat, I just moved here two weeks ago, I’m not looking for a relationship yet.”
Ever since I moved to San Diego two weeks ago, I’ve been more focused on my teaching job. I work at the local high school near a navy base as a science teacher. I was hired when the school year already started so I've been catching my students up since the substitute teacher they had barely got them learning.
“Well, the Lyft is almost here, you should finish getting ready,” she told me before leaving my room.
Slipping on a pair of gold heels, I grabbed my clutch and double checked the inside to see if I had all of the things I needed. Closing it, I walked out of my room and walked out of the house with Natasha after she locked the front door. Getting into the car, our driver started to drive us to the US Grant hotel.
“Hey, everything is going to be fine,” Natasha squeezed my hand. “All of the Dagger Squad is going to love you.”
We soon pulled up to the hotel and saw a bunch of naval higher ups in their uniforms with their plus ones. I’m pretty sure that I also saw some politicians entering the hotel. Natasha and I soon walked in and headed to the ballroom entrance where we showed our identifications along with invites.
When we walked in, I started to feel overwhelmed. Many members of the Navy and their plus ones filled the room while a live band played music.
“Oh, I see them!” Natasha started to drag me to where her friends were. “Guys, meet Y/N.”
I was soon met with two dark skinned men, one with a buzzcut, another one with a somewhat porno mustache, and one who looked like a real life Ken doll. She soon started to introduce me to them with their actual names and call signs. More of the members came and I was introduced to them along with her captain and his husband.
“Guess who finally showed up,” Jake announced. “How long does it take to get a soda?”
“Y/N, meet-” I looked over to see who came and I froze.
“Robbie?” His name fell out of my mouth.
“Y/N? Is that you?” He asked.
“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I walked up and hugged him.
“It has.” He returned my hug.
“Wait, is this the Robbie you told me about?” Natasha asked.
“Yeah,” I nodded my head.
“Are we missing something here?” Mickey asked.
“Yeah, did you and Baby on Board used to have a thing or?” Jake asked.
“Baby on Board?” A confused look formed on my face when I heard the name he gave Robbie.
“No, we used to be childhood friends back in North Carolina,” Robbie explained.
“Yeah we’ve lived in the same neighborhood until I had to move to Arizona because my dad got a new job,” I nodded and pointed to Natasha. “That’s where I met Natasha.”
“And we’ve been inseparable until we had to leave for college.” Nat wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It took me some convincing to get her to move down here.”
“Well, I had to finish both of my masters,” I told her.
“Two masters?” Admiral Kazansky raised his eyebrow.
“Yes, one in mechanical engineering and one in physics, but I also have a teaching credential for physics.” I smiled proudly.
“Do you mind if we continue this conversation while I get myself another drink?” The admiral asked me.
“I don’t mind at all Admiral,” I answered while linking arms with him.
While on our walk to the bar, he started asking me questions about my studies and why I double majored. I also talked about my time studying my undergrad at Cal Poly and getting my masters/teaching credential at the University of San Francisco. 
Throughout our conversation, I glanced at the other side of the room to see Robbie talking to some of his squadron members. We would send each other a smile if we made eye contact with each other.
Soon a familiar tune filled my ears and the room. Placing my drink down on the bar, I faced the admiral.
“Excuse me sir, but I have to do something,” I excused sir.
“It’s no problem, also call me Tom.” He smiled and I nodded my head.
Hurrying myself to the other side of the room, I made my way to where Robbie was. When I saw him leaning against the wall as he listened to his friends, a smile came onto our faces as lyrics started to echo through the room. Handing his drink to Ruben, I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the dance floor as Come On Eileen played. (A/N I just imagine the dance scene in Perks of Being a Wallflower) We started to do the dance routine that we created when we were kids whenever this song played through the stereo. We continued to dance to the song and sang out the lyrics.
“Wow, it’s been a while since we last did that,” I caught my breath after he dipped me and we moved to a slow dancing position.
“I’m surprised that we still remember it,” he chuckled.
“After the amount of times we perform this dance in front of our families, I would be surprised if we don't remember the moves,” I looked up at him.
He still had the same face from what I remembered as a little kid, but it was more defined. He was still the shy and reserved kid that I knew of as I grew up.
“Hey, wanna head out?” He whispered in my ear which sent chills down my spine.
“Sure,” I agreed.
He led me off the dance floor and went to his squad.
“It’s been great meeting you all. I hope we get to see each other again,” I told everyone.
They all said their goodbyes and Robbie and I left the hotel ballroom. As Robbie and I waited for the valet to bring his wrangler around, I felt him put his coat over my shoulders and wrapped his arm around them. Leaning against him, I looked up at him and gave a smile. Soon the wrangler was pulled up and he helped me into the car. Getting into the driver’s seat, he closed the door and untied the tie he was wearing.
During the drive to Natasha and I’s house, we were sharing stories and memories from our childhood. He also explained the reason why Jake called him Baby on Board sometimes. I laughed at the stories that he had with his crew. I guess he’s glad that he’s permanently stationed here with his crew.
Pulling up in front of the house, he got out of the driver’s seat and helped me out of the car. Walking me up to the door, we stood there for a moment, waiting to see what happens next.
“Thanks for taking me home,” I thanked him.
“No problem, it’s nice seeing you again,” he smiled. “You look beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you,” I looked down at the ground and blushed.
I soon felt his fingers touch my chin and moved my head to face him. Don’t know the reason why but I started to feel my heart begin to race as my stomach fluttered. Leaning my head in as his did, our lips touched and moved. It continued for a few more seconds as it got more passionate until we detached, looking at each other with a blush on our faces.
“Did that just?” I asked.
“Yeah, it did,” he nodded his head.
“Well, I should head in now,” I told him and grabbed my house key from my clutch.
Unlocking it, I pushed open the door and walked into the house without closing the door. I tossed my clutch on the kitchen island and started my walk down the hallway to my room. Hearing the sound of Robbie’s footsteps entering the house, I looked over my shoulder a little and gave him a wink. Entering my room, I took off my heels and started to unzip the back of my dress.
“Need help with that?” I heard Robbie’s voice enter my room.
“Please,” I answered despite me not needing any help.
Chills were sent throughout my body as I felt his breath hit my neck as he slowly unzipped my dress. I bit the inside of my lip as he started to place kisses down my neck. With my dress off, leaving me in my undergarments, I turned and started to kiss him as he led me to my bed.
*Aftercare*
Tangled up in my bed sheets, Robbie laid flat on his back while I laid my head on his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other drew circles on my thigh.
“Imagine if we told younger us that we’ll be in this situation,” I chuckled, looking up at him.
“I feel they would be grossed out,” he let out a laugh. “I miss this, I miss us hanging out with each other.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “It sucked that we weren’t able to keep in contact with each other.”
He nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “But hey, we got to see each other again even though it took over ten years.”
“True,” I laughed.
“I know I already said that you look beautiful but that dress on you is amazing,” he complimented me.
“Well, I should buy that dress in other colors if it makes you do this,” I smirked as I gestured to us in bed.
“Nah, anything you wear can make me feel like this,” he placed a kiss on my lips.
“This isn’t going to affect our friendship right?” I asked him.
“I already lost you once, not losing you again,” he said while pulling me closer to him.
I smiled and laid my head on his chest letting out a yawn. Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.
*The Morning After*
Opening my eyes, I looked over to see Robbie still sleeping. Smiling to myself and last night’s events, I quietly got out of bed and threw on his dress shirt. Walking out of my room, I walked down the hall to the kitchen to see Natasha standing there with a cup of coffee and a smirk on her face.
“So, my backseater huh?” She asked.
“Shush,” I blushed a little while pouring myself a cup of coffee.
“Hey, just saying he’s a really good guy but you already know that,” she told me.
Soon we heard footsteps revealing Robbie in his boxers and hair disheveled.
“Yeah, he really is.”
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mcswbkia · 1 year
Text
This is a little one shot In put together in the Universe of "I'll ride in this life with you" from @sassenach082 ! Hope you enjoy :)
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"Bradley?!" Ice called from down the stairs. It was almost time for dinner so he wanted to call the five year old downstairs.
"Bradley?!" Ice called again. When he still got no response, Ice made his way up the stairs. He was getting a little worried now.
"Bradley?" Ice asked again when he gently pushed the door of his bedroom open. Ice saw a flash of something disappearing under the bed, a spooked Bradley turning towards Ice.
"What have you got there, baby Goose?" Ice asked smiling.
"Nothing" Bradley lied.
"Don't lie, baby Goose. That's not polite" Ice said sternly.
"Now what have you got there?" Ice continued with a smile. Bradley sighed.
"It's a surprise" He said and got on his knees and grabbed something from under his bed. It was a cardboard F-14 that was painted grey. There was one black dot with white and red stripes and one red dot with white and blue stripes, where the pilot and his RIO would be seated.
"It's a gift for Mav. For Father's day" Bradley said a little shy. Ice almost started crying right then and there. Almost, but he held himself together.
"Oh, Bradley. He'll love it" Ice said fondly to the five year old in front of him.
"Really?" Bradley asked hopeful.
"Absolutely" Ice answered.
"When did you make this, baby Goose?" He asked as well. Bradley smiled.
"I made them at school with Ms. Anderson" the kid beamed.
"It's awesome, baby Goose. Now let's go eat. Mav's hungry" Ice said, picking up the five year old. Bradley giggled.
"So am I"
"Well then it's good that I came to fetch you" Ice smiled. Bradley nodded and they walked down the stairs towards the kitchen.
Little did Ice know, that Bradley had anotyher, identical, F-14 under his bed. But with a grey dot with blue stripes and a white dot on each side and a grey dot with red stripes and a yellow dot on each side.
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It was a friday night. Ice, Mav and Bradley just had dinner. Ice and Mav were cleaning up and doing the dishes. Bradley had disappeared to his room.
"I'm gonna go get Bradley ready for bed" Mav said once they were almost finished.
"Yeah, I'll finish up around here" Ice nodded. Mav disappeared up the stairs, but quickly returned again.
"What's wrong?" Ice asked, instantly worried.
Mav sprung to attention and said:
"We have orders to wait on the couch from admiral Bradley"
Mav grinned after that and Ice started to laugh.
"You really are an idiot, you know that?" Ice said. Now smiling softly at his wingman.
"But I'm your idiot" Mav grinned.
Ice shook his head and made his way over to the couch. Mav went to sit next to him.
"Are you ready?!" Bradley yelled from upstairs.
"Yes!" Mav yelled back. They heard Bradley storming down the stairs. The five year old appeared in front of them with two boxes in gift wrapper in his hands.
"What's all this, baby Goose?" Mav asked.
"It's a gift. For Father's day" Bradley said smiling. Mav looked a bit surprised by that. Bradley gave Mav one of the boxes.
"Open it" he said. Mav carefully opened the gift wrapper and then the box itself. Inside was the cardboard F-14, Ice had seen Bradley try to hide. Mav instantly teared up.
"Oh, I love it, baby Goose! Thank you" he said and gave the kid a hug. Ice watched the whole encounter fondly.
"What's in the other box, baby Goose?" Mav asked then. Bradley smiled widely and said:
"This one's for Ice!"
"For me?" Ice voiced his surprise. Bradley nodded and gave him the box. Ice opened it carefully. Inside was a cardboard F-14, identical to Mav's, but this one had his and Slider's helmets painted onto it.
"Oh, Bradley" Ice said choked up.
"It's beautiful!" and he pulled the kid, their kid, in his arms.
"I love you, papa" Bradley whispered into Ice's ears.
"I love you too, baby Goose" Ice whispered back.
The cardboard F-14 hung on to Ice's locker ever since.
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That's it! Hope you liked it :)
This is the plane I had in mind for the father's day gifts, but then F-14.
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