#Jake is NOT having a good time with Bradley's “death”

[nixie-deangel]

💔 + 😎 + 😭 + 🐺

💔 icemav break up / icedad

"Do you regret it?" Bradley asks, quiet and stilted, like he was truly afraid of what his answer would be. "Choosing me?" Reaching over, Tom cupped his cheek and smiled, small but bright and loving, as he answered in a soft, rasp, "I could never regret ensuring my child's happiness, Bradley. Never. Remember that, okay?"

😎 win a date with jake - hangster

"Why the hell did I let you talk me into this?" Bradley asks, though he'd deny that it definitely came out more like a whine than anything else. "Because you, my friend, love me," Tary answered promptly with a bright grin even as they reached over to fix Bradley's curls. "And because we were absolutely smashed on the good tequila thanks to Dex and Lonnie."

😭 jake doesn't deal with bradley's death - hangster

“If you’re reading this, then that means I didn’t...” Jake crumbles the paper, the letter in his hand before tossing it away. No, no he couldn't do it. He couldn��t read Bradley’s final goodbyes. Couldn’t read all the things he’d never tell him himself.

🐺 shifter au - hangster

"You always this stubborn, darlin’?" Jake asks, far more amused than he probably should be. But well, it wasn't every day he got to wind up a pretty man, to get him all flushed pink like this, without taking him to bed first. And damned if he didn't find himself enthralled by it. By the way just his words would wind Rooster up like this.

Make Nixie Write This Weekend!

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch.1

I keep seeing all the City Girl Reader x Jake stories, but no cowgirl reader x Jake. So I decided to take the liberty of writing one myself. Hope y'all enjoy it!

This was the first time you were going to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. You had both crossed paths in college becoming close friends, and when he heard that you were trying to get away from a stalker ex boyfriend he had suggested you come stay with him. He had just gotten back from a big mission, but couldn’t tell you the specifics other than he had a near death experience. The skyline was beautiful as you drove towards Bradley’s apartment.

When you pulled up the apartment was close to the beach. You walked up to the second floor finding his apartment number and knocked on the door. It only took a few minutes when the door swung open to reveal Bradley in shorts a white tank and ugly Hawaiian shirt. “You still wear those Hawaiian shirts”, you laughed. “Of course, and you're still wearing jeans, cowboy boots and that ratty old ball cap. You’re in California now might as well go for some shorts”, he laughed back.

“No way”, you said. Bradley swooped you up squeezing the life out of you. “It’s so good to see you,” he stated. “Same here Rooster same here”, you smiled. He set you back down and offered to help you bring your stuff in. “You still drive this old truck”, he said. “Yeah I can’t let this baby go. Great gas mileage and as Joe Diffie says an 8 foot bed that never has to be made. Not to mention the bench seat”, you giggle as Bradley’s face goes red.

“I swear your mind is always in the gutter”, Bradley jested. “Well I grew up on a farm with brothers what did you expect”, you huffed dramatically. Bradley helped you get your measly duffle bag into the apartment. “Holy shit Roo this is an apartment? More like a small house”, you say more to yourself than Bradley. “Well I’m a tall guy I gotta have room”, he joked. He showed you to the guest room, and left you alone to unpack.

It took you all of ten minutes to unpack your things, and when you walked out to the main living area Bradley was hanging up his cellphone. “Hey want to go down to the Hard Deck with me?”, he asked. “If it’s a bar ya’ know I’m in” you respond eagerly. “You want to change?”, he questioned. “No I’m in comfortable clothes”, you replied. Once the apartment was all locked up you went straight for the Bronco. It was the same as you remembered it back in college no changes had been made.

The drive to the bar was filled with remembering old stories. When he pulled into a parking spot at the bar he got that serious look on his face. “Listen, some of the guys I fly with will be here, but there is one in particular you should stay away from”, he all but growls. “His callsign is Hangman and he is the type you don’t want to get mixed up with”, he tells you. “Noted”, you fake salute as you both make your way into the bar. 

It was lively for a Thursday afternoon as you followed Rooster to a pool table where two guys and a woman were playing. “Rooster, good to see you man and you brought a date”, one of the guys said. “Oh no we aren’t dating. This is the friend I told you about (Y/N)”, Bradley stated. “You’re right there is no way you could have snagged her, she's too hot for you”, the woman laughed. “Phoenix but you can call me Nat”, she said, extending her hand.  

You shook her hand as she introduced Payback and Fanboy. You sat back as they continued their game. Bradley had sneaked off to get another round of beers. When he came back he handed everyone their beers as the next round of pool started. You declined to play as Bradley joined this game. Half way through you were out of beer. “I’m going to the bar if anybody needs anything”, you announced. Everyone saying they were alright for now you headed towards the bar. 

Low and behold there was Pete. He had come to some of the college baseball games when Bradley played and Bradley had introduced you. You said hello as a woman stepped up to ask what you would like. “What bourbons do you have?”, you questioned. The woman listed them and you made your choice. “I’ll take the Jack n’ Coke and make it a double please”, you answered. 

As she made your drink Pete introduced you to her. She was the bar owner, Penny, who he was currently dating. You congratulated them and turned to find Bradley had taken to the piano and the pool table was free. You quickly made your way there and picked up a pool stick. You were down to the last couple of shots when you swore you felt someone was staring at you.

Jake had just walked in and was ordering a beer scoffing when he heard the familiar tune Rooster was playing on the piano. Then movement at the pool table caught his eye. A woman that definitely didn’t fit this type of bar scene was bent over the pool table lining up a shot. He couldn’t help but stare at her ass and the way those jeans hugged it. Once Penny handed him his beer he started making his way to the pool table.

“Uh oh looks like Hangman has his sights set”, Penny said. Maverick looked and started to laugh, “Oh don’t worry she can handle herself trust me”. Penny gave him a questioning look, but proceeded to watch what was about to happen. Jake had just made it to the pool table when you sank another shot. “I don’t mean to be rude darlin’, but it doesn’t look like you’re from around here”, he stated smiling. 

“As a matter o’ fact I’m not”, you replied. “Well with that accent I’d say the south”, he guessed. “And with that accent and cocky attitude I’m guessing Texan and an aviator”, you said, sinking another shot while looking him in the eye. “Well you’d be right. Mind if I join ya I promise I’ll go easy on ya. Names Jake by the way”, he cockily replied. “I guess, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I go easy on ya. Mines (Y/N)”, you smugly replied.

Jake liked this one already, feisty, and willing to dish it back at him. Usually women would already be giggling and batting their lashes at him. “I would say gentleman first, but you don’t look much like a gentleman”, you scoffed. “Ouch. I would say ladies first, but you look more like a hellcat. Tell me how sharp are your claws”, he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. “You’ll never find out”, you replied. “How about a bet”, he said. “Alright I’m listening”, you responded. 

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you win”, he states. “What if you win?”, you inquired. “If I win you go out on a date with me, and maybe if I like you we can go back to my apartment”, he added. You seemed to think it over as the smile stayed on his smug face. Who did this guy think he was for one and for two you weren’t one for one night stands, but a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars. “Alright you're on, but when you lose don’t throw a tantrum like a child”, you told him.

He let you go first which was his first mistake. You shot and the balls scattered and the solid red seven went in. The next shot you lined up and the yellow one ball went in. You were lining up and about to shoot when the man you were playing against brushed up against you to whisper in your ear. “Ya know, ya look good bent over this pool table wonder what else you would look good bent over”, he declared.

You knew he was trying to throw you off, and you glanced over your shoulder at him giving a sultry look. Then you sank your shot standing to line up your next shot. “Honey just quit while you’re ahead”, you smirked. You missed the next shot and he took his turn and sank one of his shots. Jake was lining up his next shot when he looked up, only for you to be right across from him leaning on a table with your ass jutted out talking with none other than Bob. 

No you weren’t talking you were flirting how could you flirt with Bob and not him. He was tall, handsome and could show you a much better time he was sure of it. When his shot missed you quickly turned to look at him with a shit eating grin. “Looks like it’s my turn”, you declared. You sank a shot, but then you felt him behind you and he leaned over you almost caging you in. “You sure that's a good angle?”, he examined. “Oh I think I’ll do just fine”, you retorted then brought the pool stick back tapping him below the belt.

He groaned and backed up enough for you to sink your shot. You sank another shot, but missed the next one. As he bent over the pool table to line up his shot you took your chance. You walked up and whispered in his ear, “How many rounds do you think I could ride before fallin’ off”. Then for good measure you turned letting him watch your ass sway as you walked to get your drink. He was imagining all the ways he could have you whimpering and calling his name.

He lined up his shot and it was slightly off making him frown. You were starting to get to him and you both carried on like that until there were only a couple shots left. You were winning and to be honest Jake couldn’t even be upset. Just being around you and flirting, if one could call it that, was entertaining and he wondered even if he lost if you would give him a chance to take you out on a date. You asked for a break to go to the bar and get another drink.

“I’ll get it, what're you havin’?”, Jake asked, accent thick. “Thanks but I can get my own drinks. Bob make sure he doesn’t cheat”, you smiled. Bob nodded and Jake watched as you made your way to the bar putting a little more sway in your hips than normal. When you made it to the bar Penny waited on you again. “You know you should be careful with that one”, Penny told you, referring to Jake. “Why’s that?”, you implored. 

“He is a one night stand kind of guy”, she mentioned. “It’s alright Penny I’ve dealt with his kind before”, you smirked. Pete shook his head as he continued to drink his beer. You made it back just in time for Rooster and his friends to come back over to the pool table. Rooster grabbed your elbow asking, “What did you bet?”. “Calm down Roo he bet that if I win he gives me a hundred bucks and if he wins I go on a date with him”, you huffed. “Seriously, why the hell would you do that?”, Bradley grits out. “Because it seemed like fun and a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars”, you respond.

“Bradshaw as I live and breathe”, Jake states. “Hangman”, Bradley spits back. Now it made sense this was the guy that Bradley had warned you about. “Bradley it’s okay I only have two more shots to sink to win”, you told him. You grabbed your pool stick and lined up your shot and sank it without problem. The last one you had to sink and you looked up to see Bradley gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Then you looked at Jake seeing him smirking at Bradley before saying, “Ya know I was wondering if inviting her to my house for dinner would be a good first date. I make a damn good steak”. Bradley looked like he could punch him any moment so you took your shot making them both whip their heads to the table. The last ball smacked the side and right into the corner pocket. “Alright Hangman pay up”, you smirked.

His smile stayed on his face as he pulled a hundred out of his wallet handing it over to you. “I was expecting you to choke”, he said. “I bet you thought I’d be choking on you after the imaginary date too huh”, you laughed. Nat’s eyes widened and she tried to contain her laughter as Jake’s smile faltered a little. He couldn’t respond. You had actually left him speechless and the image burned itself into his brain as the others started to dog him and make jokes at his expense.

Jake watched as you high fived Rooster and finished your drink. He watched as you made your way back to the bar to order another drink. On your way back a guy cut you off from continuing to the rest of the group. You obviously turned him down as he watched this man call you a bitch. You said something back as you walked around the man and he started to get up to intervene. The nerve of this guy that had just asked you if you would like to go back to his place for some fun; then got angry and called you a bitch when you refused.

He grabbed your arm and spun you around making you spill your drink. The man was obviously drunk and you were now pissed that your drink was all over the floor. “Look I’m not going to go home with you asshole. Now let me go ya’ fucker”, you seethed. “I don’t think you know who I am bitch”, he stated, and that's when his hand came up and slapped you. It stung and knocked you back a couple steps as your brain registered what happened. You had long dropped your drink and balled your hand into a fist and let it fly.

It hit the man right in his nose as blood gushed from it. “You whore”, the man spit. He was about to charge at you when two people got in between the fight. The first you noticed was Bradley and the other was Jake. “You need to apologize and get the fuck out of this bar”, Jake said. “I’m not apologizing to that whore”, the man responded. The bell rang out as everyone started shouting overboard. You had no clue what was happening.

Rooster and Hangman nodded to each other and grabbed the guy by the arms as Payback came over to grab the man's legs. They carried him to the back deck and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “If you come back you mess with all of us”, Hangman shouted. All of the people in the bar shouted in agreement as Penny and Pete were checking you over. “Your cheek is already swelling”, Penny said as she went to get a bag of ice. 

While you were waiting on Penny, Pete helped you onto a bar stool looking at the red hand print on your cheek. “Are you alright, darlin?”, Jake asked as he came up to you and Pete. “Yeah nothing I ain’t used to”, you respond. Jake smiles but you can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m fine I swear’, you state. When Penny gets back with a bag of ice wrapped in a small hand towel you thank her and ask for another drink. Jake watches as Penny makes your drink and he smiles genuinely then.

“Should have known you would like a strong drink”, Jake says. Bradley finally makes his way to you to make sure you are okay. “We should go after you're finished with that drink”, Bradley states. “Oh come on it was a slap not a punch”, you huffed. “Yeah and how long were you on the road for before you got here?”, Bradley questioned. “Look I slept in my truck till noon and hit the road then. I got a full eight hour sleep. I am not leaving yet”, you replied stubbornly. “You slept in your truck?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!”, Bradley shouted. 

“Hey ease up Rooster she obviously can handle herself”, Jake jumped in. “Stay out of this Hangman”, Roster seethed. “Look, I'm a big girl and can make my own decisions. I’m not your girl and I swear if you say we need to go I’ll just get a ride from Jake here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind”, you stated. That seemed to have Rooster backing down as Jake grinned. “I wouldn’t mind taking you anywhere you needed to go darlin”, he replied. 

“No he will not”, Bradley huffed. “Then it looks like we’re staying a little longer”, you said. You grabbed your drink and made your way back to Roosters friends who had once again taken over the pool table. “She’s a pistol”, Jake said aloud. “You don’t know the half of it.  Do me a favor and stay away from her. She doesn’t need anymore heartbreak than she's already had”, Rooster grumbled. “Not making any promises”, Jake responded. 

You watched as Bradley and Jake spoke to each other then started making their way to the pool table. “Rooster, how about you take my spot!”, Fanboy yelled. Rooster agreed, taking Fanboy’s spot and now that he was distracted you made your way out to the deck of the bar. The smell of the ocean and the slight breeze helped you to relax. Jake came to stand beside you leaning over the rail. “So you and Rooster huh?”, he inquired. 

“No nothing like that. He sees me more as a sister”, you replied. “So what really brings you out here?”, he pried. “I thought Rooster would have told you all, but I was being stalked by an ex boyfriend and when I told Roo he told me to come out here”, you explained. “My sister dealt with an ex boyfriend like that, but in Texas we take care of our own. Why didn’t you go stay with your family?”, he asked. 

“I would if there were any alive to talk to. The only family I have is a brother and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me”, you explained. “Damn well if you ever need the dagger squad we’ll be there for ya’ unless we are out on missions”, Jake responds. “Thanks”, you responded. “If I would have won would you have gone on a date with me?”, he questions. “See we were having a nice conversation and you ruined it”, you laughed. 

Jake frowned until you looked him in the eyes and said, “I would have if you had won”. His smile returned as you finished the rest of your drink, and dismissed yourself back to the pool table where Bradley had just finished up. Jake couldn’t help but watch as you walked out the door with Rooster thinking of how to get you to go out with him.

[ohtobeleah]

Day Two: [An Angels Discretion]

Summary: When Bradley gets a call to say you’ve been involved in a major car accident, his whole world is turned upside down.

Warnings: Death, Bradley Bradshaw x wifeF!reader. Car Accident. Injuries sustained from a car accident. Pregnancy, Bradley in a state of existential crisis. Premature birth. Hurt/comfort. Goose cameo.

Whumptober Prompt Day Two: Unfortunate Fall, Car Accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

Word Count: 4.4k

Author Note: THIS IS AN ALTERNATE ENDING TO AN ANGELS DISCRETION ~ Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptoberfor this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It felt like time stood still yet had sped up all at the same time. Your entire world had been flipped on its head in the blink of an eye—you felt like your entire life was flashing before your eyes. A Rolodex of memories played out before you as you spun out and rolled down into the embankment. You didn’t know exactly how it happened or why it happened - but regardless of that, it still very much happened and you were still very much in trouble. 

It had been god-awful weather recently, so much so the Daggers had been grounded for the better half of a week. Bradley had been home for a change, pottering around the house baby-proofing sharp edges and making sure the crib was set up just like the instruction book had said. 

It seemed that people truly believed that the car you were trapped in for nearly half an hour had flipped and rolled hours ago. An empty mangled car on the side of the road—nobody stopped to see if there were any occupants. Nobody stopped to snoop. Nobody heard your cries— the cries of a woman in unimaginable pain. Hoping, praying, as you remained helplessly tangled in your seat belt. You had blood gushing from wounds you didn’t know what exactly had been caused by and had bones that shattered from impact. 

“Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

You stayed there, trapped in a mess of broken glass and twisted aluminium, whimpering as you rubbed your swollen belly. Seven months. Seven beautiful months carrying your child. Bradley’s daughter. You’d spent seven months promising to keep her safe - keep her sound. You didn’t know the gender but the feeling was there and it was strong, you were having a little baby girl. 

Bradley wanted to keep the gender a surprise, but you knew deep down with every fibre of your being that you were having a girl, that he’d be a girl dad till his dying day. But as you slowly brought your hand up to cup over your belly button? You knew something was utterly wrong.

“We’re okay, aren’t we spud.” You mumbled as your vision blurred and your head became far too heavy for you to keep it lifted. “Mama’s gonna take ca-care of you.” You struggled out before succumbing to the feeling of emptiness as you drifted into unconsciousness—the sound of your shattered phone playing your doting husband's ringtone. Replay by Iyaz. One final smile appeared on your bloodied broken face as you heard the all too familiar sound. 

Before.....nothing. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Baby seats shouldn’t be this complicated to fit!” Bradley groaned as he tried to figure out how to secure the baby seat into the backseat of the Bronco. Jake was too busy trying to reread the instructions. “Nope, I can’t do this right now I need a break.” The pair of naval aviators had been off work for the better half of the week and while you were out grocery shopping, Jake had come over to lend a helping hand at putting together some flat-pack furniture. “Good thing this baby isn’t coming for another few months.” 

“Ah, you’ve jinxed it now!” Jake teased, clicking his fingers at Bradley to grab his attention. “Also, apparently it’s meant to face the other way round.” Jake grinned ear to ear as Bradley deadpanned him. Giving up in entirety before he turned back to the house with a huff. “Oh come on! Where are you going, Rooster? we almost had it!” Jake laughed, jogging after his wingman up to the house. 

“I need a beer!” It had been a long afternoon for the two men who had done nothing but unpack and organise the nursery. Bradley was in his own nesting phase. He’d read in a bunch of parents’ books that nesting was something you’d go through in preparation for the little spud on the way. He was now finding that he was doing it too. 

“Oh, I’ll take one too.” Jake trailed behind Rooster into the kitchen. “Job well done deserves a bevy.” Just as Bradley opened the fridge and passed Jake the Budweiser, his phone began to ring out on the kitchen counter. “Oh—unknown number man,” Jake announced. 

“It’s probably Y/n.” Bradley twirled his wedding band as he stood to answer his phone that was sitting on the kitchen bench, not recognising the number lighting up his screen. For a moment he wasn’t going to answer because why would you be calling from an unknown number? But he just had a gut feeling. He’d called you a few times beforehand but you never answered, maybe this was you calling him back? 

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw?” A woman who sounded more panicked than calm spoke—needing a confirmation before continuing with her call. 

“This is he?” Bradley responded, turning back to Jake with a confused look on his face, eyes glancing up at the time. Five thirty in the afternoon. You should have been home an hour ago. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, we’ve just had a one Y/n Bradshaw admitted.” The woman on the other end of the phone call Bradley almost didn’t answer, explained. ��Your wife, she’s unfortunately been involved in a severe accident and—“ Bradley didn’t hear the rest of what the nurse had to say as he dropped his phone, it clunked and clambered from the kitchen bench to the tiled floor below. “Hello? Mr Bradshaw?” Unable to process the news he’d just been told Bradley began to panic as his vision tunnelled and his mind went numb. 

“Jake—“ Was it Bradley’s fault? Was he a terrible husband for not noticing how long you’d been gone? Was there something wrong with your car? You’d mentioned a time or two that the air conditioning had been making a funny noise. “Jake I can’t breathe—“ Bradley clutched at his chest as he groaned, it felt like his entire world was collapsing around him. “I can’t fucking breathe.” 

“Oh-okay, yeah we’re leaving right now,” Jake confirmed as he spoke to the lady on the phone. Hangman had picked up the phone Rooster had dropped, he listened to what the woman on the other end of the line had to say as Bradley started to sob, losing his grip on reality. 

Jake reached out to touch Bradley’s shoulder in an attempt to confront the aviator whose world had just shattered into a million pieces, the moment he did though Jake Seresin witnessed his best friend collapse down to his knees in unimaginable pain at the thought of losing you. His girl. His wife. His best friend. The love of his life. The mother of...oh god the mother of his child. 

“Rooster we gotta g—“

“I can’t lose her!!” Bradley screamed as warm tears drenched his flushed face. “Can’t—won't lose her. I can’t!” Jake knew Bradley was hyperventilating, he’d seen a panic attack a time or two before when Bob had stayed in his spare room while his house was being painted. Jake also knew a panic attack when he saw one because he got them too. But this? This was a panic attack shrouded in heartache, one Jake would never understand. 

“Hey, hey Rooster.” Jake crouched down before his wingman— knowing he needed all the strength he could get. On the inside, Jake was a mess. If Bradley lost you that meant Jake lost you too. Holding the back of Bradley’s head as he leaned in. “Listen, man, this is so fucked up but she needs you, Y/n needs you to be there for her because she can’t do this alone? Alright? We gotta go— you’re her husband Rooster.” Jake reminded him. “Y/n needs her husband to be there for her okay? In sickness and in health you promised her.” 

Bradley sobbed uncontrollably—but he got up. Knowing Hangman was right. You needed him, and like fuck was he gonna let you slip through his fingers. 

“Okay, okay let’s go.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

It’s needless to say Bradley Bradshaw was a mess—a sobbing, shaking, totally exhausted figment of his former stoic self in the private waiting room nurses had told him to wait in. Jake contacted your mum and dad, he called Mav and Penny too who were already on their way over to the Miramar Base Hospital because hell was Mav somewhat sob going to go through this alone. 

“We don’t know what’s going on.” Bradley could just faintly hear Jake on the phone with Phoenix as he sat and twisted his wedding band around his ring finger. It kept him grounded but the tangible reminder of your love did nothing to stop Rooster's mind from thinking of the very worst. 

“We haven’t been told a single thing—“ Jake sighed as he ran his hand through his sun-kissed hair locks. “No, no he’s not in a good way.” 

Bradley could hear only Jake's voice and only his answers. But he knew Phoenix would be going stir-crazy not knowing what had happened or what was going on, they all would be. Every single member of Bradley’s naval squadron had become like family to you both. Extensions on the small albeit perfect family you were just starting. 

Bradley thought he knew heartbreak, thought he’d been through pain. He’d lost his dad when he was just shy of three years old and his mother just after his seventh birthday. But nothing—nothing, compared to the heartache of not knowing what was happening to you. If you were alive if your baby was okay? If Rooster had just lost his young family before it had a chance to grow old. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” An older-looking woman in scrubs asked as she knocked. Both Bradley and Jake looked up—both just as desperate for answers. “Hi,” She cooed. “My names Jannette, I’ve been with your wife since she came in—“

“H-how is she?” Bradley could barely speak at this point, he was too afraid to know but needed answers. Although he’d stood from the chair he’d been perched in he still twirled his wedding band around his finger. He still needed that tangible reminder. You loved him, no matter what the outcome was you would always love him. To the moon and back and twice over you’d say before he left for deployments. 

In all Bradley’s years, he always thought he’d be the one leaving you behind—he never once thought his wife who cut and arranged flowers for a living would leave him, the naval aviator who flew super hornets for a living. But here he stood in some twisted parallel universe that felt like a plot ripped straight from an episode of The Twilight Zone. 

“She’s critical, my colleagues are still working on her as we speak.” The room went silent as Bradley forgot how to breathe. Jake was by his side in seconds. “It's touch and go.” 

“My baby? How’s my baby?” If anything mattered to you, it was your unborn child. Bradley knew if anything happened to them that you'd never forgive yourself. You’d rather die than live a life without your baby. You’d done everything in your power to make sure they had the best chance of being strong healthy and safe. You’d been the perfect mother. 

“She” The nurse smiled. “Is okay, we did, however, have to do an emergency c-section because your wife was unfortunately not able to carry her to full turn due to her uterus filling with blood.” It was a whirlwind of emotions. Bradley Bradshaw was suddenly a father, he had a baby girl. 

“Rooster, you have a little girl.” Jake helped Bradley take a few agonising steps as he took in the news. You’d given him a baby girl. A tiny little you. How could he ever thank you enough? How could he ever begin to repay that debt of gratitude, of love? 

“You can see her if you’d like? She’s in the NICU.” Jannette explained. “But you won’t be able to touch her without protection until she’s used to the new environment, premature babies can catch infections and colds despite our best efforts, so it’s best she says in the incubation chamber.”

“C’mon Bradshaw, let's go meet your little girl, yeah? You know Y/n wouldn’t want her left alone.” Jake was right. Bradley could hear everything going on around him but he couldn’t speak. He was still taking all this in. He was a dad, a girl dad. He was the father to your daughter and you weren’t here to see him start this new chapter. 

God, it was bittersweet. 

“When will I know how my wife is?” Bradley asked as he followed the nurse he towered over—she had a little waddle that Jake couldn’t help but notice. 

“You’ll be the first to know her updated condition, Lieutenant, but from what I’ve seen so far your wife is one hell of a fighter, not a lot of people in her condition would’ve come out of that alive.”

Braduheld onto that tiny shred of hope, clung to it for dear life as he followed the nurse to meet his baby’s girl—way too early. How do you introduce yourself to a baby? Jake was right beside him. Do you think Jake Seresin would ever let his wingman walk alone through such a tragedy? 

Absolutely not. 

“Bradley, this is your daughter, obviously she doesn’t have a name so we called her Jane as protocol - short for Jane Doe.” The little girl was so incredibly tiny. She was dwarfed by wires and tubes connected all over her tiny body helping her little lungs breathe. Bradley couldn’t distinguish if she looked more like you or him. But fuck he wished she looked like you. He took a seat next to the incubator that held his bundle of joy. The joy he’d been blessed with by you. The joy and light of his world he’d helped create, a blend of you and him. 

“H-hey little one.” Rooster struggled to talk. “I’m your Dadda, your mums in a little bit of a situation right now but I’ve got you yeah?” Tears ran down Bradley’s face as he placed a fingertip against the glass. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, ever.” 

Rooster always said he’d never love anyone more than he’d love you—but this little girl? God, she was already Bradley’s entire fucking world. For a single second, he forgot you were in surgery. Watching as your daughter's tiny lips curled into a soft smile for a mere second. Bradley liked to think it was her acknowledging his presence. 

“Bradley?” Jannette interrupted, Bradley had forgotten all sense of time as he sat with his baby girl. “It’s your wife—she’s stable, sleeping but stable. She’s being moved to the ICU for around-the-clock observation.”

“When can I Uh, when can I see her?” Bradley let out a sob as he thanked the heavens above, his little family was okay—not great, not thriving with heath, but okay. Stable. Jake finally allowed himself to breathe for the first time all night. 

“We can go up there if you like?” Bradley nodded in response—looking over at Jake who already knew what his wingman was about to ask. 

“I’ll stay here, keep her company, go get your girl Rooster.” Jake hugged Bradley as tight as he ever had before. “You’re a dad man, congratulations.” Being the big brother Bradley needed but didn’t have. “I got you brother.”

Bradley didn’t know what to do when he first saw you—he stood at the doorway just staring at the woman who had given him everything. So injured, so hurt. And he couldn’t do anything to help ease your pain. Even through all the injuries, tubs and wires, much like the little girl you gave precious life to, you still look beautiful. So gorgeous, so at peace. 

A soft “oh god” escaped Bradley’s mouth as he held back sobs walking towards you. Nurse Jannette giving him the space he so desperately needed with you. Bradley took in the sight before him. His beautiful wife, the mother of his daughter, lying so lifeless in a hospital bed. He wished so badly you could be at home with him right now, tangled in the warm sheets, smiling and being your “happy-go-lucky” self instead of here. He wished so badly he could take you anywhere else in the world. 

Anywhere but here—like this. 

“Hey beautiful,” Bradley whispered. Biting his bottom lip to stop himself from breaking down for what felt like the one hundredth time tonight. “You don’t know it yet but you’re a mama, and dammit baby you’ll be the best fucking mum on earth.” Bradley grabbed the nearby seat and pulled it close. Once his hand was in yours there was no place else Rooster wanted to be than right by your side. Although he wished the two of you could be anywhere else together. 

“You’re gonna be okay baby, maybe not today or next week? But you’ll be okay. I won’t let you be anything but okay.” Bradley mumbled through soft sobs as he took notice of every injury that plagued your body. Every cut, stitch, wrap and blood-stained patch that littered the soft and supple skin he loved so much. Bradley especially noticed the gash on your cheek—stitched. 

As Rooster sat with you, he could see your eyelids moving. He knew you were conscious, just sleeping. Heavily medicated, he knew you could hear every word he spoke. But soon Bradley Bradshaw watched in awe as you placed your hand over your stomach. Checking to see if your little spud was alright. When you noticed how small your stomach felt you moaned. 

“My—my baby?” Your eyes weren’t even open yet and you already knew something was terribly wrong. Even if your entire body was in agonising pain you needed to make sure your baby was alright. 

“Hey shh, shh, shh, I got you.” Bradley cooed, his hand gently reaching out to cup your cheek—the side without any noticeable injuries that would bring you discomfort. “She’s alright mama, she’s here a little early but she’s okay—j-just like you yeah.” 

“She?” Your eyes opened slowly at the sound of your husband’s voice—your neck killed as you turned to face him. Giving up quickly. Bradley was quick to notice the wince you let out. 

“She mama, our little girl. Both of my girls gave me a pretty big heart attack this afternoon huh? Are you trying to kill me, honey?” Bradley smiled. Noticing how you smiled back for a brief moment before the muscles in your cheeks gave up. 

“I’m so sorry” You whispered—eyes closed again as you couldn’t stand the light of the room. “I don’t know what happened— no one came though.” You started to cry. “No one came when I called for help for so long.” Bradley leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m here, I came, I’m not going anywhere my love.” Rooster sobbed back, sometimes being strong meant crying along with the ones you love. “God, I thought I lost you.” 

“He said it wasn’t my time to go.” You sighed, clearly fighting off the urge to fall asleep. So groggy from the medicine that even the thought of being a mother hadn’t truly set in yet—all you cared about was that your baby was safe. She was alive. 

“Who did bub? One of the paramedics?” Bradley asked, a little confused as he pushed some hair away from your face and made sure the oxygen tube was sitting just right. 

“He was in the car, said I couldn’t leave you yet, that you’d be lost without me.” You softly grinned while your eyes rested. “Had a moustache just like yours.” 

Bradley sat back in shock as he watched you drift back to sleep. Holding your hand thinking how the universe worked in mysterious ways. Bradley had promised to love you in good times and in bad - through sickness and in health. He’d live in the damn hospital if he had to—anything to be by your side. 

“God I hate it when he does this.” Goose groaned as he watched his son’s name appear on the shattered phone on the floor of your busted-up car. “You’re not ready, it’s not your time so why bother even putting you through this crap.” The man spoke as you fell unconscious. “It’s not your time my dear and my son certainly needs you by his side or he’ll go crazy.” You listened, tried to nod, smile, anything to let him know you heard him. “You’ll be alright kid.”

Bradley Bradshaw had his family. He had his daughter, he had you. Going back and forth with Jake from room to room watching as both his girls slept. Both of you were still so unaware of the turmoil Bradley had been through. He nearly lost you. Without you? Bradley would’ve been helpless. 

But someone watching over him knew that as well as he did. A guardian angel not only watched over him....

But over his girls too.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Life always seems to be far too good at throwing unexpected curve balls at unsuspecting victims. It has a way of being able to knock the wind from your lungs all the while ripping your heart from your chest. Unimaginable pain and sorrow seemed to be the universe's favourite seasoning. Like msg or garlic salt. Whatever God or deity that was at the wheel needed its kicks, needed that morning fix of watching its human puppets experience the worst of what the world had to offer. It needed that rush of adrenaline while watching those who trained in medicine try to solve the issues occurring in your hospital room. 

Like ants, they watched everyone rush around as all kinds of bells and whistles rang out in the early morning. The sun had yet to kiss the horizon, you had taken a dramatic turn. And while you stood by the edge of your hospital bed watching doctors and nurses alike try to bring you back from the precipice of death, you knew this was it. 

“The worst part about it is the people we leave behind, my dear,” Goose, Bradley’s late father explained as he stood beside you. You could only describe him as your guardian angel, a guiding light through this experience. He’d already tried his best to keep on in the living realm for the sake of his son who’d already lost too much. But unfortunately, it seemed as though it may have been your time after all. 

“Am I dying?” You asked softly as you watched the team of medical professionals try everything in their power to bring you back. “I thought–” Your voice broke as tears began to stream down your face. “I thought I was fine, they said I was fine?” 

“Sometimes it just doesn’t go according to plan, my dear.” Goose sighed as he watched with you. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to watch. His son’s greatest love was dying right before him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“What about Bradley, my little girl? What are they supposed to do without me?” You asked as the panic set in. No. this couldn’t be happening. Things like this don’t happen to good people, right? “No, no I don’t accept this, I need to go back!” You cried out as you tried to move forward. Goose tried his best to stop you, but you were quick to shrug him off. “I need to go back, no no no no no–” 

“I know it’s hard Y/n,” Goose tried his best to give you the comfort you so desperately needed right now. “But if it’s your time, then it’s your time, we have to accept that it’s a part of the plan.” 

“Well FUCK the plan!” You shouted as you turned back to your husband’s dad. “I’m not dying on him, or my baby girl! I won’t do that to them! Not now! I can’t, I can’t do that to him please!” 

“Time of death–” Everything went quiet. The room felt so still like not a person in the room was breathing or thinking a single thought. “03:24 am” 

“No!!!” You fell to your knees in utter agony as you watched yourself lying lifeless in that damn hospital bed. “Bradley–” You sobbed as you felt an ache in your heart you’d never felt before. “No–” 

“I’m so sorry my dear,” Goose held back his own tears as he watched on. He knew what this agony felt like, the pain of feeling like you let the love of your life down. “I’ve got you–” 

“My baby girl–” It was hard to hear, the turmoil of grief set in, but Goose knew this was all a part of the process. Time would hopefully heal the wounds of death and one day, soon enough, the three of you would be reunited. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

It was the most heartbreaking to bear witness to. You couldn’t leave without seeing Bradley, without seeing your husband. No one was expecting you to take such a dramatic turn so quickly. The doctors and nurses who had worked tirelessly to save your life thought you had a fighting chance. But as fate would have it, he had other, more heartbreaking plans for you. 

“It’s okay little one–” Bradley sobbed as he softly played with his baby girl’s tiny hand through the glass of the NICU bassinet. “I’ve got you.”

You weren’t ever sure if those words would stop echoing through your husband’s mind. The words that changed his life forever, the words that made him feel like his mother did when she had lost his father. The words he would remember throughout this lifetime and the next. 

“Unfortunately Mr Bradshaw, your wife didn’t make it through the night.” Bradley had been with your daughter when it all happened. That’s where you wanted him to be.  

“We’re gonna be alright, mum would want us to be okay,” Rooster cooed as he watched the tears that he cried splatter against the glass. “I’ve got you for this lifetime baby girl,” 

“I’m right here Roo–” You sobbed as you watched your little family begin their life without you. Goose stood right by the door, he knew you would come, just not right now. “I’m right here.” As you reached out to touch your husband’s cheek, he felt a cool breeze against him, and he knew.

“Mamma loves you so much beautiful girl.”

******************************

[allbark-no-bite]

call it brotherhood (not love).

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.2k)

summary: jake meets his match in a soldier rather than a sailor. you’re a bit more war torn than he expected, but it’s okay because maybe he is too

warnings: 18+ smut, * graphic descriptions of injuries and death ⚠️

* if you are uncomfortable with this, please don’t read

author’s note: spoiler alert, i know this isn’t the Jake fic that you’ve all been wanting but i swear that one is in the works. i’m about to go back to school and wanted to get this out there for y’all :) (ps i apologize for the lazy ending)

————————————————————————

"At ease, gentlemen —And woman," Admiral Simpson adds after a moment, shooting an uncharacteristically apprehensive look in Phoenix's direction. Payback snorts at his hasty correction, and Jake is surprised when the admiral doesn't fix him with a nasty look.

If the man's cursory show of inclusion perturbs the female pilot, she doesn't show it, and instead she takes a seat with all the rest of them. Jake turns back towards the front of the ready room, sinking down into his chair just a bit, toothpick clenched between his teeth as he waits for the admiral to address them.

However routine, this training meeting was a bit out of left field, especially for a Sunday afternoon. The Dagger squad typically had one weekly, but it was usually led by Maverick and much more informal. That wasn't to say that seeing Beau was surprising, but the man usually steered clear of the wayward captain and left him to his own devices when it came to training the Daggers.

Today the captain sits in the ready room beside the rest of the pilots. Jake watches as Bradley sends his godfather an inquisitive brow from across the room, to which the older man just shrugs. Interesting.

Cyclone clears his throat. "Good afternoon. I apologize for keeping you all, but I promise this will only take a minute of your time. As I'm sure you are all aware, the United States Department of Defense takes immense pride in maintaining one of the most well integrated military forces in the world. It's our job to work closely with other service members to ensure their safety and the safety of our nation." He pauses. "As experienced as you all are, your time here at Topgun has not reflected that."

Jake's brow furrows, his tongue worrying at the toothpick clenched between his teeth as he listens to the admiral go on. Javy shoots him a look but Jake stares ahead, waiting for Beau to continue.

"The permanent installment of your squad here at Miramar was to create a tightly knit group of elite fighter pilots who would be available at a moment's notice, and however successful that may have been, I cannot neglect the fact that comfort builds complacency. Later today, a squad of U.S. Army soldiers will be arriving to aide in your training for the next six weeks. The integration of mixed branch training units has been widely effective around the country, and it's about time we do the same here at Miramar."

With that, the screen positioned on the wall behind him lights up, displaying enlarged headshots of about eight soldiers. The first seven are males of varying ages, but none older than probably thirty. Jake quickly skims over their names and credentials, but when he gets to the last profile, his eyes stop.

The last solider is the only female projected on the screen, but even so she stands out as compared to all the other members of her squad. He can't quite put his finger on why though.

She's uncharacteristically pretty. And by that he means that to most, her appearance would be inherently off putting— even without the straight-mouthed scowl on her face. She's got a square, almost masculine like jawline that hardens her features considerably. Her hair is light, worn from spending too much time in the sun regardless of however dark it may have been naturally. The same goes for her skin, which is comparably bronze in contrast to the tan line on her forehead, he would assume from wearing a patrol cap out in the field.

Her eyes are wild.

And that's when it hits him.

She'd been all over the news just a few months ago. Something about a patrol gone wrong out in the Middle East, which ultimately turned into a high stakes rescue mission to extract the surviving soldiers. They went in hoping to bring back nine men and came out with one. Apparently they didn't even get to recover the bodies.

Jake can't imagine what that'll do to a person.

Before he can stare at her profile any longer, Cyclone quickly clicks off the projection and the image disappears. This time he appears almost nervous as he stares back at them. "These soldiers are recently returning from a deployment in the Middle East, so I trust that you all will do your best to make them feel welcome. If none of you have any questions, that is all. You're dismissed."

---

The following morning, the Jake receives word from Maverick that the Admiral wants to see him in his office. It's not a strange request but certainly raises Jake's attention as to why specifically he was needed.

Upon entering the room, Jake finds not only the Admiral but Maverick and another female that he's yet to have seen before. All heads turn towards him when he enters, as if he were interrupting something. Immediately, Jake snaps to attention, his heels clicking together and his fingers brushing his brow with a sharpness that would make the academy proud.

Cyclone nods in his direction, acknowledging Jake's customary greeting and dismissing him with the notion. "Lt. Seresin," he begins, gesturing to the female standing across the room. "This is Lt. (L/n). She's uh—a member of the squad that I briefed you on yesterday."

He hadn't noticed that she was wearing Army OCPs but he connects the dots as soon as the admiral mentions her name. He remembers reading it on the projector during the meeting.

Rather than introducing herself, the soldier stands rigidly across from him, her arms folded in front of her chest with a look on her face that Jake can only describe as fucking pissed. Unsure of what to do but aware from personal experience with Phoenix that he shouldn't try to cross any unknown boundaries, Jake settles for offering her a respectful nod. She glares back at him.

"You're two of our only service members with active combat experience," Cyclone continues, obviously ignoring the girl's crossed disposition. "I'm hoping that you and Lt. (L/n) can find some common ground. Perhaps it would do you both some good to—"

"Respectfully, sir, if I wanted to vent to someone about my feelings, I'd go see a shrink," the woman growls. "I recommend you do the same, Lt. Seresin." Her tone makes Jake's brow raise slightly in surprise. No one talks to an admiral like that, not even Pete Mitchell.

"Lt. (L/n)," Cyclone snaps. "That's quite enough."

This time, she rolls her eyes with a scoff. "You can't just—"

"Get out."

She clamps her jaw shut but doesn't budge from where her feet are planted in the ground.

"I said, Get. Out," Cyclone reiterates.

The eyes that had caught Jake's attention in the first place fix the admiral with a chilling stare. To Jake, there's something familiar in those eyes. Some sort of unmistakably justifiable rage that runs deeper than just being dismissed from the conversation. Jake watches, his breath stalled as she sets her jaw, unwilling to move, when it hits him. Identical jawlines and untwitching scowls mirror each other.

The illegitimate child of Admiral Beau Simpson stands before him.

He doesn't know how he didn't see it before, granted they don't share a last name, but Jake was aware that the Admiral was divorced, had been for a while. Allegedly he wasn't the marrying type. Jake isn't surprised by the statement. Beau Simpson is a hard man to deal with.

Jake watches in silence as the girl ultimately releases an irritated huff and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind her. He can hear the loud, petulant stomp of her boots as she retreats down the hall. Evidently her looks weren't the only thing that she got from her dad. She had a temper that rivaled even Bradshaw's.

The clearing of the Admiral's throat removes Jake's eyes from the door. "I hope you can forgive my daughter's behavior. Her return to the states has been...difficult."

"I'm sure difficult is the way she would describe you too sir," Maverick jokes.

Cyclone fixes him with a perturbed glare but decidedly ignores his comment in favor of addressing Jake. "Lt. (L/n)'s squadron was ambushed six months ago. Just about everything that could have gone wrong went wrong and she was the only survivor. As her father, I wanted her to accept the Purple Heart and retire." He gestures flippantly towards the door. "Obviously that's not what she did."

Jake speaks for the first time since he entered the room. "Respectfully, sir, I don't blame her. I'm taking this career to the grave. I'm sure both your daughter and Captain Mitchell can agree," he adds glancing over at his instructor.

Before Maverick can voice his agreement, the admiral cuts him off.

"As I'm sure Captain Mitchell can attest to, as her father, I'm just trying to look out for her."

With his preexisting connection to Rooster, the godson that he would risk his career to protect, Maverick has no room to disagree with the admiral. For once, the captain, who usually always has something to say, stands with his palms folded behind his back and keeps his mouth shut.

"As I was saying," Cyclone continues, taking a seat behind his desk and kicking back as if to signal that he's won the conversation. "It is my hope that given your own—" the admiral hesitates for just a moment too long for Jake's liking "—personal experience, you'll be able to get through to her."

Jake swallows and hopes that he doesn't look as uneasy as the insinuation makes him feel. He has to take a moment to reassure himself that the psych unit has repeatedly cleared him for duty and that no one's threatening to take his wings away.

The nights that he wakes up, drenched in sweat, with his fingers wrapped around imaginary joysticks hard enough to make his palms bleed are few and far in between these days. And even those he's gotten good enough at faking like they don't bother him because he hasn't failed a psych evaluation in months.

It doesn't mean he likes to talk about it or that he won't hear the fear in Rooster's voice if he does.

But he's more scared of not flying than anything, so all Jake does is nod and offer a dry, "I'll do my best, sir."

———

PTSD or modern day shell-shock is what they like to call it. You call it waiting on the other shoe to drop.

Because there is always another shoe.

The slam of a beer bottle down on the bar top lights your nerves up like nothing else. It sends your heart straight to your stomach and makes your palms sweat like when you miss a step on the stairs and for a split second, you think you're going to die. You never do of course, but your body is hard wired that way to keep you alive.

There's a flaw in your system that hasn't been right since the east.

You knew that a popular naval bar on a Friday night wasn't the best place for you these days but your nerves had been yearning for an ice cold beer and fuck all if you weren't going to get one. The alcohol would soothe your nerves anyhow.

But after thirty minutes of waiting on said beer, you were beginning to lose your patience. Normally you weren't bothered by that kind of thing. The place was obviously busy and the lone woman behind the bar was doing her best to satisfy the flock of servicemen that only seemed to accumulate with every beer that she handed out.

Just when you're about to give up and leave, a large hand covers your lower back, pressing you forwards through the crowd and toward the bar top.

"Two more on me, please, Penny."

The voice belongs to the tall man standing behind you. He's removed his firm, but respectfully placed palm from your back and is now leaning over you to accept the two dripping bottles of beer. It doesn't take you long to recognize the green of his eyes from a few days prior.

"My dad didn't put you up to this did he?" you ask, somewhat reluctantly taking the bottle that he offers you. It's finger numbing cold, just how you like it.

He kind of just slowly smiles and shakes his head.

Immediately you feel like a jerk. You sigh, dropping your shoulders and smile softly back. "Sorry. That was rude."

"No, ma'am, he didn't. Just had to find out if you smiled like that all the time."

The part of you that's a little bit of a bitch makes you clench your teeth together, tightening the smile that was once spread across your lips. "I'm not looking for that kind of thing right now," is all you say.

You want to tell him that you used to not be so mean.

At the realization that his words had the exact opposite effect of what he was going for, the guy graciously extends his hand. "Look I don't mean to bother you, I just wanted to say hi."

Despite not being keen on his advances, you aren't going to be rude so you accept his outstretched hand. You're surprised by his gentleness. It's not the rough, over-masculine shake you are expecting.

"Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n)."

"I know your name," he admits with a light, almost embarrassed laugh. "I think everybody in here knows your name."

Your skin prickles. You stare at him stoney faced, bracing yourself for what's going to come out of his mouth. "Why's that?"

The guy—Lt. Seresin—you're remembering, shrugs. "I mean, you're quite the story back here in the states. A bit of a ghost story, I must say."

Ghost story is right. Because who survives that? How the fuck does a twenty-two year old girl survive an outnumbered ambush and not eight men with years of experience? Not someone who deserves to be called a hero, that's for sure.

You're trying your best to keep your cool with him. You know that you're in a public space and he's just being friendly. You used to be so good at this kind of thing, the flirting and small talk.

The thought occurs to you that maybe this is what you need. Maybe this will make you feel normal again. You need to feel normal again.

Maybe that is why you let him lean in closer, buy you another drink when yours runs dry, and another one after that. Maybe that is why you make an effort to laugh when he does, and you close your eyes when he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You let out the breath that's been tightening your ribcage and do your best to smile. "Thank you for the beer. You didn't have to do that." You hope the words sound as genuine as they're intended to.

He smiles back like he's supposed to, all polite and inherently forgiving of your original attitude. You catch onto the way it doesn't quite reach his eyes. You're not sure why but it makes you think maybe he's just a bit sad too.

Maybe that is why he lets you wordlessly take his hand and lead him to the back of the bar. Maybe that is why he lets you sink to your knees on the cold, sticky tiles of the men's bathroom floor, his hands already fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

It smells like beer and piss, and you don't even wait for him to get fully hard before you take him in your mouth, your nose buried into his pelvis, where it smells like sweat. It's all wrong and right at the same time, and he won't ask you to stop. He just curls his fingers into a fistful of your hair, pinpricks stinging at your scalp the same way tears sting at your eyes.

He—Jake—he'd told you a while ago, has a pretty cock. At least as pretty as cocks go. Pink and ruddy at the tip, where it mushroomed beautifully. Almost dauntingly long but not grossly so with a throbbing vein on the underside. You run your tongue along it and he muffles a whimper, his fingers wrapping harder around your hair in an effort not to buck up into your mouth. At least he's a gentleman about it.

He's heavy and twitching in your mouth. You feel heavy. He is standing above you, a harsh line of a man against the buzzing bathroom light. You remind yourself to breathe through your nose and he punches himself further, the head of his cock skimming the back of your throat.

You swallow around him, trying to hold together what little is left of your remaining sense of self. It's been a while since you've been so careless as to place yourself in someone else's hands, rolled over and showed your belly to someone who could easily take advantage of you.

Your jaw aches, uncomfortable and familiar, like something you don't want to remember. Tears well up behind your eyes, the threat of an unwanted but unknown feeling looming just out of reach. Jake's hand in your hair hold your head firmly against his pelvis, hips rocking up into your mouth. He sighs like he can finally breathe.

You can't breathe.

You try to and something rasps inside of you, choking. The feeling that had been looming threateningly sparkles through you. Panic.

You know that he tries to settle you, does his best to wipe the tears leaking from your eyes with his thumbs and murmurs softly to you. "Breathe. It's okay, breathe for me."

You can't. You can't breathe.

Your head is pounding and suddenly you aren't kneeling on the bathroom floor of the bar. You're on the ground, crying, screaming like a wounded animal and no one is coming to help. You can almost feel the dirt under your knees, taste the blood in your mouth.

"Y/N, you have to breathe."

Someone's grabbing you, hauling your useless feet across the floor. Your chest hurts like you've been punched with a bowling ball.

"C'mon, let's get some air."

How you end up outside the bathroom is beside you. All you know is one minute you're dying on your knees back in the desert and the next you're being sat down on the back steps of the bar. 

The cool air of the San Diego evening brings you back. That and the press of a cup of ice water to your lips, the condensation dripping from the glass and rolling down your throat. You swallow, letting the cool liquid soothe your burning throat.

You're aware of Jake sitting down beside you, close enough to touch if he wanted to but still keeping his distance. You can feel his eyes on you, watching carefully for a moment before he turns to stare out at the not so distance shoreline.

Your stomach feels odd, like you might be sick.

He probably thinks you're insane. You would think the same. But if he's dying to ask what the hell that was, he's doing a good job of hiding it.

How do you tell him that sometimes you think that you should have died, that sometimes the memories almost kill you?

"I hid."

He looks up from peeling off the label around the neck of his bottle. "What?"

You swallow, trying to collect yourself before your words fail you.

"I hid. A—After I was shot, I didn't get back up. I crawled under the humvee and... and I just laid there. I laid there and I closed my eyes and I prayed. I prayed that they wouldn't notice me lying under there or that they if they did, they would think I was already dead."

A mixture of sweat and dust burns your eyes. When you blink, you can feel the sandy grit trapped between them. You squeeze them shut while trying to swallow back the dryness of your throat in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort, but it doesn't do much. An unwarranted tear escapes and runs down the track of your nose.

With your rifle held closely to your chest, you let it slide down and collect on the bow of your lip. It joins the puddle of sweat that has already accumulated there. Out here, the sun cooks you alive. You swear it's a constant one thousand degrees. The twenty pounds of kevlar doesn't help.

Dirt kicks up beside you and gravel showers your helmet as a round of bullets buries themselves into the ground a mere six inches from your face. You hardly flinch.

Somebody is screaming. The sound of machine gun fire is ringing in your ears. Somebody is screaming.

"(L/N), C'MON. LET'S MOVE."

It's Cain. He's grabbing the strap of your kevlar vest and yanking you to your feet. You scramble after him, desperate not to be left behind. Bullets explode at your feet the moment the two of you emerge from the concealment of the dirt mound. Fear makes you run faster.

You spot Manny crouched behind the tire of the SUV to your right. He's firing rounds into the brush. You can tell that he's bleeding from a wound to his arm and you're about to veer off to help him when his head jerks backwards, the scattered remains of his brain plastered onto the white side of the truck.

You stop running, the words caught in your throat.

"RUN," Cain screams. He'd backtracked a few paces and grabs hold of your vest once again to drag you behind a second SUV. You stumble over him, falling haphazardly onto your rear once he lets go of you. He immediately turns to fire over the hood of the truck, and the bullets hitting the truck stop momentarily.

Clawing at the gravel on the ground, you hurry to scramble to your feet. Your head is pounding, your mouth dry and gritty. Huffing, you glance between Cain, who is fumbling to reload his magazine, and the crumpled figure of Manny a few yards away. You can only hope Ronny is still out there somewhere.

Before you can even try to locate him or any other members of the squad, movement to your left springs your muscles into action. You slam your back into the side door of the SUV just as a round of bullets pelt the spot where you were standing just moments before. Automatically, you raise your gun, returning the fire. There are a few more shots fired in retaliation, but they stop a second later.

Once you're sure they're subdued, you lower your gun, breathing hard. There's so much smoke and debris in the air that you can hardly even see Cain ten feet away. He's shuffling towards you in a low crouch.

"Let's move, (L/n). They know where we are. We've got to find different cover."

You nod, your finger still pressed tightly to the trigger of your weapon. You drop into a crouch and follow behind him as he creeps towards the back of the truck. He pauses a moment, scanning the landscape before looking back at you. His blue eyes are a startling contrast to the dirt and sweat covering his tanned face. He lifts his gun in the direction of a flipped humvee about fifty yards away. His mouth moves in a silent command.

One.

Two.

Three.

The gunfire starts up as soon as the two of you spring from behind the vehicle. You can hear the whizzing of bullets as they just barely miss your head. All you can do is pray you don't trip as you struggle to keep up with Cain. Your lungs burn and your boots feel impossibly heavy.

The terrain is barren but the ground loose, and rocks threaten to upend your footing, slipping out from beneath your feet as the two of you flee towards the vehicle.

30 yards from the humvee, Cain tumbles to the ground with a broken cry. The bullet catches him in the thigh, stopping him mid stride. He hits the ground hard.

Without even thinking, you skid to a stop. Bullets spray the ground around you. Somehow you're more afraid of leaving him than being shot.

"Go!" he yells at you, already trying to shove you away. "Go, I'm coming!"

Already, there's a lake of blood beneath him. You step in it and the ground squelches under your boot. Crimson gushes from his left thigh, effectively saturating the fabric of his pants. His face is terrifyingly pale. The bullet must have hit his femoral artery.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Like hell," you snap at him, your pervious fear suddenly boiling into the purest form of anger you've ever felt. Angry for being in this situation in the first place. Angry that of all people, Cain is going to die.

It's terrifying how quickly the realization comes to you, how easily you accept it as the truth. There's already too much blood. Without a tourniquet, he'll bleed out in minutes and there's not quite time for that.

"Leaving him behind wasn't an option. It never even occurred to me that it was," you confess, as if saying it aloud will somehow explain away this title of heroism that everyone wants to pin on you. "Dead or alive, he was coming with me."

You shoulder your rifle and use both hands to grab onto the straps of his vest, hefting him backwards towards the truck.

He must clamp onto his bottom lip to stop the scream that threatens to escape because the noise that comes from his mouth is garbled.

You drag Cain about ten feet before you realize how just heavy he is. There's sweat leaking into your eyes and all you can see is the bloody lake that's left behind as you drag him through the dust. Cain's gone quiet, his head lulled to the side, eyes almost shut.

"C'mon, Cain. We're almost there."

His boot snags on a rock, and when you tug him free, he doesn't utter a word.

Something inside of you knows he's gone, was gone long before you started dragging him. You're still ten yards from the SUV.

POP. POP. POP.

You pause, your eyes fixed ahead of you. "Have you ever been shot before?"

Beside you, Jake shakes his head.

"It feels like someone has shot a bowling ball into your chest. Knocks the breath right out of you."

Pain explodes straight through your ribcage. Your vision clouds and you're vaguely aware of your knees buckling beneath you.

When you come to, all of the wind has been knocked out of you from hitting the ground so hard and your immediate reflex is to suck in a reviving breath. Instead all that comes out is a gurgle, the tell tale sign that your chest cavity is filling with blood.

You swallow, looking off at the dark shoreline of the beach, watching as the waves crash against the sand. "I knew that I wasn't dead yet—I did— I just—" Your throat constricts and when you speak again your voice is quieter. "He was already gone so maybe a part of me had already gone with him."

Jake nods slowly, as if putting together the pieces that you're laying down bit by bit. Somehow his green eyes have remained soft this entire time and maybe that's where you find the courage to continue.

Lifting your head, you crane your neck to see the damage, but the thick layer of kevlar strapped to your chest obstructs your view of the lower half of your body. Grunting in frustration, you reach blindly in the direction that the pain is radiating from. Numbly, your fingers find the gushing hole in your side. The bullet had buried itself in the exposed inch of your stomach between your belt and your vest.

There mustn't be an exit wound because there isn't a ton of blood surrounding you. If the wet cough you emit is anything to go by, it's probably pooling in your abdominal cavity instead.

You're going to die.

"I don't know how long I laid there," you admit. "I knew that the clock was ticking, had been since the moment I hit the ground. It was only a matter of time before I blacked out or bled out... I guess I was just waiting to see which one came first."

The scattered rounds hitting the ground around you become muffled background noise as the lull of unconsciousness begins to sweep over you, dulling the world as you know it. Through the haze of your fading senses, your eyes fall on Cain's motionless figure a few feet beside you.

He's lying face up, his desert tan uniform seeped a muddy crimson. You'd known he was dead a while ago. Still, you carried him. He'd have done the same for you. He was your brother, dead or alive.

Blood bubbles from your nose as you struggle to keep yourself breathing. The fact that you have to remind yourself to do that isn't a promising sign. Your body is shutting down, doing anything it can to keep your heart pumping, even if it means shutting down everything else.

Somewhere through the dullness, you hear Cain's voice. MOVE, (L/N).

You close your eyes, trying to picture his face from what had been just a few minutes ago. You remember the urgency in his blue eyes, the intensity of his fear overridden by adrenaline. How had that been only moments ago?

MOVE, (L/N).

"I—I heard his voice," you state, your tone not open for discussion. "Not the gun fire, not God, not anyone else's. I heard his voice."

So many people had tried to convince you otherwise, tried to tell you that it was because of the shock and your brain was shutting down, that you were hearing things. But you know what you heard.

"He saved my life, Jake."

You can see the gears turning in his head, the question carefully forming on his lips. "Were you two— I mean was he—"

It's the first time you have to suck back tears, your chest rattling with a longing emptiness as you fight the urge to cry. Memories of his wild blue eyes and wide smile that could only ever mean he was misbehaving flash through your mind.

You met Sergeant Anthony Cain not long after you commissioned as a Lieutenant. You were still a green officer when you were charged with your first platoon and given orders to deploy out East. You were scared as hell and Cain was your saving grace. He came in as if he'd always known you needed him and the rest was history.

There was never any question about intentions or commitment to each other. Cain was as honest as they came and you left it at that. You never imagined that's where your story would begin and end.

"I don't know, Jake. We didn't get that far."

Forcing your eyes open, you access the area around you. The sound of enemy fire has slowed but that doesn't mean movement won't trigger a return of bullets your way. Still, you know they'll be looking for survivors once the dust settles, and you don't want to be around when they do.

The humvee is only a little over ten yards away. You might would say it was crawling distance if it weren't for the fact that you were actively bleeding out. Even so, you don't really have any other option.

You take as deep of a breath as you can, your chest rasping as you do so, before lifting your right leg and using the weight of it to swing yourself over onto your stomach. Immediately, searing hot pain radiates through your chest and legs. You cry out, curling in on yourself, writhing on the ground like a wounded animal.

Sputtering, trying to breathe through the pain long enough so that you can move, you feel hot tears track down your face. They're tears of insurmountable pain and hopeless desperation.

"All I kept thinking was 'how does anyone survive this?' It was unimaginable, the pain. Looking back now, I don't know how I did it. I don't think I could do it again if I had to," you admit.

Softly, as not to scare you, you feel the gentle weight of Jake's palm on your knee. "You won't have to," he promises. "But you did it. You survived."

You stare down at his hand on your knee.

With a trembling, blood stained hand, you reach out in front of you and dig your fingers into the ground. Heaving, you draw yourself forward, your legs dragging limply through the dust. It takes an unimaginable amount of strength to pull yourself even six inches.

Sniffling back tears and out of breath, you curl your fingers into the ground and drag yourself forward again. This time, you probably only move half as far. You have to fight the urge to just lay your cheek against the ground and cry.

You do this again and again, keeping one hand pressed into the gushing wound at your side while the other drags you forward. Your lower half has become increasingly heavier with each passing minute, your legs nothing but dead weight to pull along. You don't think you could move them if you tried.

It takes you forty minutes to drag yourself to the humvee. By the time you get yourself fully under the abandoned vehicle, your fingers are torn and bleeding, the tips ripped open and embedded with bits of gravel.

Your muscles collapse the very second you give them the chance. Your forehead drops down to rest against the ground, and you finally have a moment to shudder out a sob. Your throat is dry and cracked, and dust coats the inside of your mouth. You're dimly aware that your breaths are dangerously shallow. You just know that you're miserably nauseous and each passing moment is more unbearable than the next.

You turn your own palm over, staring at the scars of your ruined finger tips, scars that tell a story of how you survived. They're ugly, and you wish you didn't have to look at the all of the time. At least your torso is mostly hidden. You've moved to a beach town and will never be able to put on a swimsuit.

Jake’s eyes follow yours and after a moment he flips his palm over, his fingers spread and inviting. His hands are large and calloused from years of flying. There are fingernail divots in his palm.

Almost shyly, his green eyes meet yours. You see a bit of that sadness you saw earlier. “I know it’s not my job to be your shrink or whatever,” he adds with a laugh and you can’t help but laugh with him. “But you’re not alone. We’re all a bit fucked up if you haven’t noticed.” He shrugs. “It comes with the job.”

You can’t help yourself. You trace a finger over the scarred palm of his hand. “My dad would disagree.”

Jake is fighting the urge to close his palm around yours, not wanting to overstep, and so he’s pleased when you intertwine your fingers with his.

“Family dinner must be interesting.”

Jake came from a military family himself and so he knows how deep the ties run. His old man was a sailor and so he knew better than to come home sporting anything other than his dress whites.

You laugh out loud because he’s not wrong at all. Jake squeezes your fingers in response. His hand feels good in yours. Safe and heavy in the way a padlock feels. Like he’s not going anywhere.

“It’s not all ‘Go Army, Beat Navy’ believe it or not. Don’t get me wrong, I was raised a Navy brat and I have a hell of a lot of respect for my old man, but at the end of the day, I had to choose myself. I couldn’t do that with him watching over my shoulder. The Army’s been both the greatest and the worst thing that could have happened to me,” you confess.

Jake hums, dare you say almost disbelievingly.

“What?”

“A few weeks here and you’ll change your mind. No one does it like the Navy does.”

It’s your turn to make a noise of disbelief.

“I guess you’ll just have to impress me, Flyboy.”

Jake squeezes your hand again. “Oh I plan to.”

[the-ace-with-spades]

Bradley and Natasha get platonically married a few years into service and confuse the crap out of everyone.

They do it for a multitude of convenient reasons - they've been friends since flight school, they both accidentally found out they're bi but leaning toward same-sex attraction more, and had been each other's cover any time someone would start to suspect something. It comes up after Bradley puts Natasha as his next of kin and pension beneficiary (in case of death) and Natasha is like, 'you know, people are going to start questioning why we're so close'

So they don't give people a reason for suspecting - they make it official before. Nat doesn't talk to her family anymore and also makes Bradley her next of kin, they get a tax rebate, their health insurance is cheaper, they can evoke spouse privilege and get prioritised for base locations, keeping together. Married couples qualify for better housing as well and no one questions if they get a two or three-bed house, because you know, they're young, maybe they're planning to have kids soon. No one can treaten them with a DADT because who is going to believe that they're gay if they're married to each other, they have enough space that they can bring whoever they're dating back home without feeling like they need to do everything in secret.

Maybe, you know, whenever they're both alone and feel like it, they have some platonic sex...

Sure, maybe they're a weird couple - not that affectionate, not that open, talk to each other more like bickering best friends than lovers, maybe years go by and they still have no kids, maybe Natasha kept her surname, etc etc but it all could be swiftly avoided. We tried for kids but it didn't work, don't mention it around Nat/Bradley, he/she still feels guilty. We're best friends first, spouses second. The surname swap is a stupid tradition anyways. PDA is awful to see so why would we do something we don't wanna see others do?

The only real downside is that they can't be deployed together anymore.

When Jake meets Bradley after he gets re-stationed, Natasha is on deployment. They get close and closer, there's some flirting going on, and Jake is like 90% sure Bradley is not straight and is somewhat interested in him.

Push comes to shove and Bradley and Jake get deployed together (while Nat comes back home) and things continue and Jake gets 99% sure because damn, Bradley is fucking brave with how open he is with flirting, given where they are.

Then something happens and Bradley has an accident while onboard the carrier and Jake is there in the treatment bay and their CO comes around and asks Bradley, "Do you want me to call your wife, Bradshaw?" and Jake's whole world gets swept from under his feet. Because, you know, he was this close to fucking a married man.

And the worst thing is when they come back ashore and he finds out who is Bradley's wife - because Jake and Nat knew each other pretty well in USNA and he's not going to come into the mess that is their marriage.

Scratch that - the worst thing is that he can see Bradley does love Nat and that Nat loves Bradley and he doesn't know if he should say something to either. (He just doesn't know they love each other platonically only.)

They do stay married, even after DADT gets revoked, just because they're used to it now, and because the benefits are good, and really, neither of them are dating anyone seriously enough to go through the hassle.

Jake only realizes when after the mission years later, he sees Phoenix and Halo making out at the Hard Deck and tells Bradley "I think your wife is cheating on you with a woman, Bradshaw" and Bradley is like, "Yes, that would make sense given that she is a lesbian and all that."

[garbinge]

ONE IN A MILLION (1/?)

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader // Word Count: 2.1k Summary: When Rooster saves you from an awkward encounter by pretending to be your boyfriend, the two of you get to talking and find out you have a lot in common. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff. Light Angst. Drinking. Fake Dating (for like 5 minutes). Mentions of parental death (both characters). No use of Y/N. A/N: Apparently this is the week of starting to write for new fandoms and new characters! I cannot get Bradley Rooster Bradshaw off my mind these days!

“Hey babe, sorry I’m late, got caught up on base.” Suddenly there was an arm around your shoulder. Your face fell into a frown and you looked over at the man who was smiling at you through the fuzzy mustache on his upper lip. His face was slightly goofy with hope and you decided hell, what did you have to lose?

“You’d marry those F-18s if you could.” You wrapped your own arm around him and looked up at him, your eyes catching the Top Gun patch on his jacket and seeing the aviation patches on his uniform. 

His eyebrows raised and his face matched yours from earlier, he was trying to limit the shock that was showing through his smile but you clocked it immediately, a smirk growing on your own face now. 

“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Bradshaw.” The blond haired man who had been flirting with you before this whole interaction was taking a sip from his beer now, clearly nursing the wounds to his ego. 

“Yea, M’not like you, Hangman. I don’t need to tell the whole world I’m getting some.” 

At that comment you looked up at the man whose arm was around your shoulder and swiped your tongue across the inside of your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were meeting in the middle as your head fell a little to the side. 

The man you now knew as Hangman was laughing as he looked down shaking his head. “Think you kind of just did.” 

“What’s Hangman?” You turned your head to the man across from you, tucking your head more against the man you knew as Bradshaw’s chest. 

“Jake here loves to leave his men hangin’.” Bradshaw answered quickly, you felt his body tense and you could tell there was some history between these two. Now you weren’t sure if this was a case of someone coming to rescue you from a miserable attempt at flirting, or someone just trying to check the man’s ego for his own gain. You’d take either because either way, it did save you. 

“Surprised you haven’t told your girlfriend about me, Rooster. Although, I do get it, don’t want to look like a loser, I’ve got all his times beat, fastest aviator in our unit, best shooting record too. Why they call this kid Rooster, always waitin’ for the right moment.” 

“From my experience, a fast shooter isn’t always the best. I like a guy who waits for that right moment.” Your face moved back to the man you just met but were spending the last two minutes cuddled up next to. Bradshaw’s nostrils flared and he tucked a part of his bottom lip in his mouth as he bit his tongue from laughing out loud. Your eyes glued on each other practically having their own conversation while your voices said nothing. 

“Never got any complaints in that department before.” Hangman was dropping a couple bucks down for the new beer that was sitting on the bar for him. “But on that note, I’ll leave you two to catch up. Nice meeting you.” His face was completely different from when he originally approached you. That first impression was full of arrogance and a demeanor about him like he knew he was going to win you over. Now his tone was just as crass but like this whole interaction didn’t break a piece of his ego off indefinitely. 

The arm on your shoulder was loosening as the man moved to replace Hangman’s spot at the bar. “What’s your drink?” He was waving down the bartender. “I owe you a couple.” His eyes looked over at you as his elbows leaned over the bar. 

“I’m good with beer.” You sat down next to him, really intrigued to see where this was going to go. 

“Let me get two beers, Penny.” 

“Want these on Hangman’s tab, Bradley?” She was popping the caps off the bottles. You mentally took note of what you assumed to be the man's first name.

Bradley smirked and looked at you for a quick second before answering. “Yea, he owes us compensation.” He was grabbing the one beer and passing it to you. “Plus, that means I got you for at least a second one actually on me.” 

“That’s good, cause I got a lot of questions for you.” Grabbing the beer you took a big sip and followed it up with a question. “You came over to me, why?” 

Rooster smirked and looked down in the space between his arms and stared at the bar floor but his mind was flashing to the scene he saw when he entered the bar. 

“I was looking around for my friends when I saw your face, all twisted.” He lifted his head and brought his hand to circle around his face. “I went to see what you were looking at, curiosity, you know?” There he shrugged, a smirk playing at his mouth. “Saw Jake–Hangman.” He used the name you were familiar with. “Knew what was happening and decided to pull you out of it.” 

“Right moment.” You teased, not giving yourself a moment to smile because you were bringing the beer bottle back up to your mouth. 

“Somethin’ like that.” He finally plopped down on a bar stool now, curiously looking at you. “What other questions you got for me?” 

“You always tell the whole bar that you’re sleeping with a girl?” 

“No, that was a first for me. But Hangman definitely does.” 

Leaning in closer to him you whispered to him. “I don’t really care about Hangman, Rooster.” 

“Noted.” His mouth was open with a little shock at your statement but he wasn’t going to argue with that. “Next question.” 

“Rooster?” It was one word, but he knew what you were asking. 

“Jake’s not completely wrong, it comes from me waiting for that sweet moment, like a rooster waits for the sun to rise.” His face was as neutral as you’d seen it all night. And despite only knowing him for under an hour, you could tell he was holding something back. 

“But there’s something else.” You waited for him to answer you.

You could tell he was thinking about what to say, or maybe he was thinking about if he even wanted to tell you. But as you contemplated what it could be, his voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“My dad’s name was Goose.” 

He didn’t need to explain it further, you picked up on the name connection and you also picked up on his past tense use. 

With a nod you matched his neutral face. “Nice way to keep him with you.” 

“My turn for questions?” Rooster was changing the subject and while you were still a bit curious you understood why and didn’t post any arguments. But you did give him a hard time. 

“That’s a question in itself, isn’t?” Your lips curved as you said it and he let out a laugh, his head falling between his arms again. “You got me there.”

“Tell you what, I’ll let you ask me all the questions in the world, but I’m gonna need that second beer.” Flashing your empty bottle to him, he quickly made a verbal grunt in acknowledgement and then chugged the rest of his before flagging down Penny again for two more beers. This time on him. As he placed the cash on the table he handed you the beer and followed it up with a question. 

“Haven’t seen you around here before, what brings you to The Hard Deck?” He was clinking his glass bottle to yours after asking in a way to cheers you. 

Raising your drink back to him, you took a sip. “My family has a house near the beach. I come sometimes to get away when no ones here, but this time I’m visiting.” 

“Visiting someone special?” This was his way at trying to pry. 

“Yea, pretty special.” You frowned as you thought about who you were visiting. 

“They gonna be mad that I’m buying you drinks?” It was a teasing question but you knew he wanted the answer. 

“Probably.” That was all you were going to give him on that, filling the next seconds with a sip from your beer so he’d get the hint. 

“How’d you know about F-18s?” His hand raised to bring his own bottle to his mouth but then paused and lifted his index finger to point at you, “and my desire to marry them.” 

After letting out a chuckle, one where your shoulder lightly touched his, you turned slightly, but bringing your hand to his jacket. Your fingers gripped around his upper bicep, it didn’t escape you how strong he felt, the bicep under his jacket wasn’t even flexed and you could feel the curves of the muscles perfectly. Before getting carried away you lightened your grip and tapped on the Top Gun patch. “You pilots tend to wear your accomplishments on your sleeve.” Now your hand moved to pull his jacket back and your hand rested on his chest to the patches on his uniform. “And close to your heart.” 

“Doesn’t answer my question.” He spoke it in such a flirtatious way. 

But you pulled your hand back because the answer was anything but that. 

“My dad was a Top Gun Fighter Pilot.” 

Was. Rooster picked up on that immediately. “So you know a thing or two about Fighter Pilots.” 

“Maybe three.” You teased. “It was kind of all my life was growing up.” 

“I know that very well. I spent half my childhood in this bar I feel like.”  He pointed in the direction of the piano and you knew that while there were probably memories for him all over this bar, that piano held some important ones. 

“We’ve probably run into each other before. Maybe not here–my dad was sober, but around town.” 

“Nah, we never did.” His answer came quick, the shake of his head was firm in his believe in the statement as well. When he saw your face fill with question, he decided to enlighten you. “I’d remember meeting you. You got a face that one can’t forget–Wouldn’t wanna.” 

With that you felt your face go a little warm. Your head turned away from him, a reaction to feeling a little embarrassed by his statement even though it was a sweet one. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean–” 

“No, no. I just think that I agree with you, think I’d remember you, too.” 

“If you want my honest opinion, I think if I had met you, I’d have walked into this bar tonight the same exact way.” 

“Calling me your girlfriend and announcing to the whole bar that you’re sleeping with me?” You lips were closed when you smiled, holding in a laugh. 

“Yes.” His face went serious until he laughed with you. “Exactly.” 

You two kept talking for a few more minutes, and honestly, you could have sat here all night with him. This was the most entertaining but also enjoyable conversation you had in a while. 

“What was your dad’s call sign?” 

The smile just stayed plastered on your face for the entire conversation, this one not being any different. You loved talking about your Dad, your own way of honoring him, but not everyone understood the Top Gun nuances let alone appreciated them, but you knew Rooster would.

“Cujo.” You remembered everything that had his callsign on it, his helmet being one of them. “We had like a million dogs growing up, he kind of was a trainer in his free time, tamed a lot of aggressive dogs, people would bring their dogs to him and he’d send them back perfectly behaved.” 

“Million of ‘em huh?” 

“Exaggerating, we had 4. But in a house with 2 brothers and a million fighter pilots visiting all the time, it was just a lot.” 

“You like the millions, huh?” Rooster teased. 

“Well, I am one in a million.” 

You were still flirting, a brush of your own ego slipping out now but in a way that felt effortless and jokey. Rooster caught on immediately and smirked with a nod. “That you are.” Both your second beers were now finished, and he was going to buy you another but first he wanted to ask you one more question. “You never told me who the special person you’re visiting is.” He wasn’t stupid, the flirting might’ve just been fun and harmless to you, and he wanted to know for his own sake. 

“Oh!” Your head snapped to the door where you stood up and waved your arm. “He’s actually here right now.” Rooster’s head turned to follow your gaze when he saw Fanboy with a matched smile to yours and headed in your direction. 

“Fanboy?” Bradley was trying to wrap his head around what was happening, his head running through a million thoughts, but the next words out of your mouth were not what he was expecting. In fact, the odds of this were pretty one in a million. 

“Rooster, this is my brother, Mickey.”

Part 2 Dividers by @cafekitsune ✧.* 🛫Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 (let me know if you’d like to be added! I'm using my all writing taglist right now!) CHAPTER INDEX <- where you can find previous chapters to this fic!

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eleven

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Loss of a parent, Crying, Premonitions, Anxiety, Bermuda Triangle, Insomnia, Running from the law, Near drowning, Near death experience, Sea monster, Cursing, Death, Mentions and brief description of blood, Magic. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.5k

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You had always had a feeling of otherness surrounding you, of that you were sure. You had a knack for predicting weather changes or which ships would come home when others wouldn’t. You had known when your father stepped foot out the door that fateful morning that you would never see him again.

You had chased after him, begging him to stay, to delay his departure. Your hands had gripped the fabric of his trousers as you sank to your knees before him, tears streaking down your face as you babbled and sobbed for him to not leave your side. Your father had crouched down next to you, a gentle hand on your head as you sniffled pathetically.

“What’s the matter,” he asked gently, thumb stroking away the drops of tears that fell from your eyes.

“Something,” you hiccuped, your bottom lip trembling, “something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Please don’t go, Papa.”

“What could possibly go wrong?” He asked, but something in his voice sounded off. At the time, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were in hysterics, after all, and that in and of itself was so unlike you. That inner sense of knowing had always kept you cool and collected, warning you away from danger or towards something joyful. Never had you felt that deep sense of foreboding, though. Like your whole world was about to be ripped out from under you at a moment’s notice.

“Everything will be alright, little minnow,” he smiled, blue eyes twinkling in the early morning light. “There’s a sort of magic that courses through your blood, always has been. Even if something happens to me, you’ll be just fine. I promise.”

It had taken Bradley pulling you away for your father to leave, and you watched from the docks as the silhouette of his ship disappeared past the horizon, a sense of foreboding clutching at your heart.

And it had been right, of course.

You had tried to hold on to his words, praying that he was right. Hoping beyond all hope that he would come home.

But he hadn’t.

You remembered how the ocean spray dotted your cheeks, much like how it did now. The Hangman dipped with the waves as you stared out over the rails. You weren’t sure why that memory was on your mind now, the ache still as strong within your chest as it was the day it found a home there, but perhaps it was due to the sense of foreboding that now pulled at the back of your neck, warning of something yet to come.

“We’re nearing the triangle, lads,” a crewman murmured, grizzled face glancing around almost conspiratorially. You paused on your way to the galley, ears perking at his words.

“Aye, and what about it?” Snapped his companion, a surly looking fellow with a dark beard.

“Don’t tell me you’ve not heard o’ the tales of the triangle,” the first man scoffed, giving the bearded fellow a rather unimpressed look. A moment passed as the two stared at one another.

“I thought e’ry good sailor knew about the legends of the sea,” he continued with a shake of his head. He clapped his companion on the shoulder, leaning in as if to tell him a secret. Several other crew members stopped what they were doing to listen in as well.

“The Bermuda Triangle,” the man started, his tone taking on a warning tone, “is home to all sorts o’ monsters and fiend. They say God himself cursed this bit o’ sea, sending all sorts o’ devilish creatures to live here where they mightn’t cause any trouble for the res’.”

“You’re full of shite,” guffawed one man, leaning back so far on his perch, he nearly fell to the deck below. The storyteller scowled at him as several others shook their heads almost knowingly.

“You’re laughin’ now,” the storyteller growled, shaking his finger at the man, “but mark my words, lad: several of ye will be doomed to live out this cursed existence at the bottom of the sea before we see land again.”

Several more men let out a loud chorus of laughter as the crowd began to disperse. The sense of foreboding sat heavy as you turned back towards the underbelly of the ship.

In the galley, Bob was already hard at work making that night’s supper. You slid in easily beside him, chopping away at some carrots as he messed with one of the pots.

“Alright, out with it,” he said after a few minutes. You paused, looking at him in confusion as he fixed you with a rather unamused look.

“What?” You asked, sliding the carrots off to the side as you grabbed for some potatoes. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” he scowled, waving the wooden spoon at you. “You came down here with this look on your face and haven’t said a word to me since. Now what’s got you in such a mood, hm?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his keen eyes as you contemplated on how to answer. There truly was no reason for you to be feeling this way. Or at least, nothing new that should. Of course, the rapidly approaching deadline had been near the forefront of your mind for a while, but this was different. This sense of impending doom was more urgent, more…immediate.

You couldn’t tell him that, you just couldn’t. You already felt crazy, you didn’t need word to spread of your premonitions. Really, after everything that had already happened, you didn’t need accusations of witchcraft being thrown at you—not when you were so close to the end.

“The men were just talking about sea monsters, is all,” you lied. Bob scoffed, turning back to stir whatever he had bubbling away in the pot.

“Sea monsters,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “The things they come up with.”

“You don’t think they’re telling the truth?” You pressed, an arch to your brow as you slowly went back to cutting up the potatoes.

“I’d believe it more if they actually told the truth once in a while,” he snorted back at you.

“You’re the cook on a cursed ship where all but two of the crew members don’t even need to eat,” you hummed, “and you’re questioning the existence of sea monsters?”

There was a brief pause as Bob mulled over your words.

“Hurry up with the potatoes,” he grumbled, and you did your best to hide your smirk.

The evening passed much like any other, but still a feeling kept nagging at you, and the more time went on, the stronger it became. You laid in your bed that night, the rest of the crew having retreated for some shut eye as well. Only the watchman and the helmsman stayed awake, and though you tried, not even the slow, rhythmic rocking of the Hangman could lure you to sleep. Natasha snored quietly on the other side of the room, and you envied her in that moment. You tossed and turned helplessly as you willed yourself to get at least a few hours of sleep.

You finally gave up as the telltale signs of dawn crept through the window of your cabin, casting a faint, blue glow across the wood. You let out a heavy, tired sigh as you slowly sat up. The air was cool around you, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your back. Natasha shifted on her bed, rolling over as you paused and waited for her to settle once more. After a moment’s hesitation, you slowly slipped out of bed and padded towards your chest, lifting the lid to reveal your meager belongings. You changed quickly, shooting glances at Natasha’s sleeping figure every so often to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. Your boots tapped against the floor as you padded towards the door, careful to keep the old wood from creaking as you slipped out.

Clouds covered the sky, a mist clinging to the air around you as you sucked in a lungful of briny, sea air. You peered behind you, smiling softly at the helmsman, Daniel, as he nodded your way.

Waves crashed against the hull, a familiar sound that brought you some sense of relief, no matter how small it may be. You walked towards the edge of the ship, grabbing on to one of the ropes as you leaned over the railing. The water below churned into white sea foam, the spray flying up to meet your cheek. The murky depths gave no hint as to what may lurk beneath, but the feeling within you pulsed ominously.

“Must be somewhere off the coast of Florida by now.”

You startled, head twisting to take in the sight of Jake just a few feet behind you. The wind whipped around you, twisting through your hair and obscuring your vision for a brief moment before you pushed it back.

“Are we?” you asked, turning back with a squint towards the water, as if it would help confirm what he told you. The wood echoed beneath his boots as he walked towards you, pausing just behind as the waves crashed against the hull.

“I’d expect so,” he replied, squinting his eyes at the horizon, as if the answer lay somewhere just out of sight. “If we aren’t, then we should be soon.”

You hummed, the silence between you stretching from moments to seconds to minutes. Jake cleared his throat, shifting closer to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his gaze trained on you, and a slight shiver ran up your spine.

“What’s wrong?”

You glanced at him, a frown pulling on your lips at his question. His face was serious, lips pressed tightly together, a crease of worry on his brow as he studied you. You shook your head, turning away from him. How could you explain this feeling within you? How could you explain to him this sense of dread and foreboding that curdled in your stomach, urging you to run, to get away. Your lips parted like you wanted to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, you let out a frustrated sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated how to explain.

“I don’t know,” you settled on finally, eyes shifting from the rolling waves to the hard wood underneath your feet. The air around you felt charged, like it did during a thunderstorm. The waves seemed to grow quiet as a heavy feeling dripped through your ribs to clutch at your heart.

Another pulse ripped through you, your breath catching in your throat. Several of the crew members were making their way up to the deck now, laughing and shouting orders at one another. You looked around wildly, your heart hammering in your chest much like it had on the siren’s isle.

“Something’s not right.” Your voice sounded small even to you. Jake watched with worry at his brow as you pushed off of the railing, pushing past a pair of crew members as you searched wildly for what, you weren’t sure. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to hide, to do something.

“Sail ho!”

You looked skyward as the lookout above signaled towards the horizon. Jake cursed under his breath, already taking off in search of Javy. You peered towards the sea. Sure enough, you could just make out the distinct sight of white sails billowing in your direction. You searched for Jake, spying him on the top deck next to Javy, a telescope to his eye as he peered at the sails.

“It’s a hulk,” he spat, lowering the scope and shoving it back towards Javy. “Flying the Union Jack. Ready the sails and make haste! We’re going to outrun those redcoats.”

The crew began running around the ship, readying the sails and tying knots as they went. You moved to help them, stopping short as another pulse shot through you, stilling you instantly.

“Guppy!”

Bradley grabbed you by the arm, shaking you momentarily from your stupor.

“Bradley?” You questioned, unsure of yourself in that moment. He pursed his lips as he gave you a once over, pulling on your arm and leading you across the deck.

“Come on,” he ground out, letting go of your arm momentarily to tie a rope off on the mast. “Don’t just stand around, help!”

You blinked at him, the familiar sense of panic crawling its way under your skin and towards your chest.

“Bradley, I-”

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, a frown on his face as he turned to look at you. Confusion and irritation marred his face, and you swallowed thickly.

Before you could answer, a gust of wind burst across the deck, nearly knocking you over. Bradley grabbed onto you, steadying you on your feet as the ship rocked dangerously in the sudden onslaught of waves.

“What in the hell,” Bradley cursed, watching as various other crew members also stumbled and struggled to stay upright. Droplets started to rain down, soon becoming a downpour as thunder roared above you.

“Where did this storm come from?” He shouted.

“Guppy!”

You turned to see Jake scrambling towards you, shoving a couple of his men to the side in order to get to you quicker. His green eyes flashed with near panic as he slid to a stop in front of you.

“You need to get inside!” He shouted, voice barely audible over the roar of the waves and shouts of the other men. His hand landed on your bicep, turning to tug you towards the cabins. Before he could even take a step, a shadow fell over you, and you turned just in time to see a monstrous wave towering over the masts of the Hangman. Your eyes rounded in horror as shrieks of panic permeated the air.

“Watch out!” A man cried just as the wave began its decent. You sucked in a sharp breath as the water crashed down onto the decks with a deafening roar. You had no time to grab onto anything as the water slammed into you, knocking Jake’s hand loose as you were sent careening back. Your back hit the wall of the railing, knocking the air from your lungs only for it to be replaced with a mouthful of seawater.

The water quickly rescinded, leaving you choking and gasping for air. Your throat burned from the saltwater, your eyes stinging as you fought to focus your eyesight. Your head swam with fogginess caused by the force of the wave and your head bouncing off the wood. Your hand came up to cradle your forehead, willing the pulsing to stop so you could get your bearings. You were vaguely aware fo the chaos that surrounded you, the pulses of pain giving way to something more sinister. All at once the world became to intense—the waves too loud, the flashes of lightning too bright. The sensations began to grow stronger, your breaths coming out in pants as your heart began to hammer away in your chest.

Something was wrong…but what?

Hands grabbed you, hauling you up and to the side just as another wave crashed into the ship from behind you. You landed on the deck with a grunt, the blow of your landing only softened by the person underneath you. You tore your eyes open, looking up to see Jake already watching you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice a deep timbre as he helped you up to a sitting position.

“I-” Before you could answer, a shrill roar like the sound of breaking class pierced the air, chilling your blood in your veins and causing your heart to stop. You scrambled to your feet, Jake not far behind you as your attention turned towards the dark waters surrounding you. That heavy feeling of dread filled you once more as movement rippled beneath the surface. The air was unsettlingly silent, pulling at your throat and squeezing it tight. The storm had calmed some, but rain still fell down onto the deck, drenching you down to the bone.

More movement caught your eye, something circling the boat, and you watched as slowly, the waves parted. Scales flickered in the light peeking through the grey clouds, causing a rippling effect along the greenish blue scales of the serpent. It was easily bigger than the whole ship, towering above the masts as it stared down with hungry, vicious eyes. Its jaw opened to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth, a horrible hissing noise leaving its maw as its body moved from side to side with the waves.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, terror striking through you at the sight. Several men shouted warnings just before the serpent came crashing down towards the deck. A splintering crack resounded in the air, drawing your attention to one of the masts, broken and hurtling towards the deck from the serpent’s strike. You had little time to react, only managing to dodge out of the way as the wood hit the deck, the vibrations of the impact rattling your teeth. A whizzing sound caught your attention, and you looked down just as the rope pulled tight around your ankle, dragging you back towards the railing.

You scrambled for the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh, unsheathing it and working furiously to sever the rope before it pulled you overboard. The threads released you with a snap, and you watched as the rope slithered over the railing and down into the depths below.

The serpent gave another mighty roar before once again diving towards the deck, the screams of men cutting short as the monster sank its fangs into flesh, dragging their wriggling bodies into its gullet. The sound of a familiar cry rang out in your ears, and you turned to see Mickey laying on his back, hands grasping desperately at his right leg. His teeth clenched tightly as blood poured from the wound, and a chill ran through you.

“Mickey!” You cried out, scrambling to your feet. Your boots thudded against the wood beneath you, but you only got a couple of feet before another ominous pulse shot through you, stopping you in your tracks.

The world seemed to grow still once more as the noise around you gave way to a high-pitched ringing in your ears, your breath coming out in slow, labored breaths as the feeling inside of you compelled you to turn. Slowly, you turned on the balls of your feet, facing the railing where your eyes met golden, snake-like irises. Blood dripped from the jaws of the serpent as a low, hissing noise escaped from its throat, the smell of death hot on its breath. You were vaguely aware of your name being shouted from behind you, too focused on the beast that stared you down. It made no move to strike at you, it simply continued to stare as if observing you. An energy hummed between the two of you, a feeling you could almost describe as familiarity passing between the two of you. It leaned forward slightly, nostrils flaring as it gave you a curious sniff, its exhale blowing over you as it let out a low growl. It blinked at you slowly before retreating with a hiss.

The sounds of shouting off in the distance drew your attention away from the monster and towards the water beyond where the British ship was drawing closer. The serpent’s head snapped back to look at the new ship, a low growl rumbling in its throat as it sank into the dark waters surrounding it. You let out a shaky exhale just as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you into a wall of solid muscle. A second body joined in, wrapping arms around you from behind.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley breathed from behind. “You scared me half to death.”

You didn’t say anything in response, too shaken up by your experience. Why had the serpent stopped? What had passed between the two of you? You were only pulled away from your thoughts by the shaking of the chest you were pressed into.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look up into Jake’s face. You were met with a look of terror mixed with relief as he held you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, stopping only as the terrified screams of the British crew echoed through the air. You turned in Jake and Bradley’s arms to see the serpent beginning a new hunt, its meal easy pickings as it managed to tip the British naval ship on its side. Your hands tightened in Jake’s shirt as the sea beast let out a triumphant roar, lightning cracking overhead as rain began to pour down.

“Come on,” Jake murmured, releasing you slowly and turning to what remained of the crew. “We need to get to land.”

A/N: And thus marks the end of my hiatus! I'm still working on some other updates, but hopefully I'll be a little more motivated to write now that I'll be on the road a fair bit again. Thank you so much for all your patience. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get more updates out to you guys soon, but please bear with me!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[mynameismckenziemae]

I Love You Two

Part 8

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary: Getting time together proves difficult in the aftermath of the mission and you’re getting impatient to have Bradley when he’s back to health. He’s going to have you and more when you tease him on a special night.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! M/M kissing/ touching, a little spanking, dirty talk, teasing, etc.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

The rest of the weekend is much of the same; lounging around and making each other feel good without hurting Bradley. They tell you as much as they can about the mission, giving you chills and bringing tears to your eyes at Bradley’s palpable fear as he recalls the near-death experience. Much to your surprise(and delight), Bradley says he and Mav said they were going to sit down and finally talk soon.

The best part is getting to watch Jake and Bradley’s budding relationship from a front-row seat.

“Let me guess,” Bradley says, head in your lap and legs on Jake’s he turns on a football game, “You were the star quarterback, dated the head cheerleader, homecoming king, all that jazz?”

Jake snorts but doesn’t deny it.

“Knew it,” Roo smiles, nudging his stomach with his foot. “So your family doesn’t know you swing both ways then?”

“I barely knew I swing both ways,” he tilts his head as if he’s thinking, eyes still on the TV, “I don’t think my sister, Abby, will be surprised though. She’s very observant,” he laughs, “I wondered more than once if she could read my mind.”

He says it like he’s planning on telling his family about this, making your heart skip a beat.

When you glance down, Bradley’s looking up; thinking the same.

“If…or when my dad finds out,” Jake sighs as he shakes his head, “It’ll just be another thing he’ll be disappointed in me for.”

“What?” Bradley barely cringes as he sits up, the anger overriding any discomfort, “Why-How could your dad ever be disappointed in you?”

Bradley’s concern is endearing, but you hurt for Jake too.

“My old man’s a hardass,” Jake explains, no longer focused on TV but not looking at either of you, “I never did anything right growing up, was never enough. I got good grades but I wasn’t valedictorian; excelled in sports but never won State; worked 2 jobs in high school but he’d worked 3.”

Bradley puts his hand on Jake’s thigh when he pauses, giving him a comforting squeeze as you both wait for him to continue.

“He was better to my sisters, and he really loved my ma, but how he treated me took a toll on their marriage. She left him after I graduated high school,” he blinks back tears as yours fall. “He blames me; told me it was my fault.”

“That’s not true, Jake,” you say softly.

“I know, still fucked me up though, obviously,” his lip quirks ruefully as he looks at Bradley, “It’s why I treated you the way I did when we first met. I saw you weren’t flying to your full potential and I turned into him.”

“You were right though,” Bradley admits, “I wasn’t and I needed the kick in the ass to do better.”

“But I didn’t need to be like him,” Jake says, looking away, ashamed, “I’m sorry, I could’ve-“

“Hey, we’re long past that,” Bradley reaches up and turns Jake’s chin towards his own, “I forgive you. Hell, I forgave you even before you saved my life.”

Jake responds by leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

The three of you head to bed not long after. Sleep comes to you easily, more content than ever snuggled between them.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Like always, Monday morning comes too soon.

Though it’s better than normal when you get a kiss from each of them as you see them off, smiling as Bradley gives Jake one and the flush that follows.

Since they both played a large part in the mission, they’re both involved in the huge headache of the investigation that follows, giving you hardly any time together.

There’s no time for sleepovers but you do manage a few lunches and one evening with them both. Bradley is a shameless flirt with Jake and you get a kick out of watching him flush as much as Bradley does.

Jake is cleared from the investigation before Bradley but is sent to the carrier for training with little notice and you don’t even get to say goodbye besides a text.

“Investigation is almost over,” Bradley sighs as he takes a seat across from your desk, setting his lunch down. It’s been almost two weeks since that weekend together.

“Finally,” you mutter, picking at your salad, “can we do something this weekend? Do you know if Jake will be back? I miss you guys.”

“I miss you too,” Bradley nudges your knee with his, “and I know Jake does too. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to see you. But they’re having a celebratory dinner for the squad on Saturday. I was wondering if you’d come as my unofficial date.”

“Unofficial date?”

He smiles when you give him a questioning look, “Well you’ll be Jake’s official date, obviously, since everyone already knows you’re dating,” his brow suddenly furrows, “Not that I don’t want people to know we’re together, I just-“

“I know, Roo,” you press a quick kiss to his cheek, “it’s still new. We’ll tell everyone when we’re ready.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you, or Jake, or what we have.”

“I know you’re not,” you assure him, the yellowing bruise on his chest catching your eye as he nods, “that looks a lot better.”

He looks down, “Oh yeah. I have an appointment with medical, I bet they’ll clear me to fly again. It feels a lot better. Doesn’t hurt unless I touch it.”

“So don’t touch it,” you tease.

“We’ll pick you up around 5 on Saturday then,” Bradley say after he rolls his eyes.

“What should I wear?” You ask, “Is it formal?”

“I’m guessing so,” Bradley shrugs, “we have to wear our dress whites.”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing them both dressed up.

“Okay,” you reply, trying to think of what’s your in closet.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“What do you think of this one?” You ask, slipping the silky gown over your head before stepping into view of your phone, FaceTiming Nat. “I haven’t worn it yet,” your fingers fiddle with the tag, “I bought it for my ex’s friend’s wedding, but we broke up before we went.”

She gives you a low whistle, “Yep. That’s the one.”

“Yeah?” You ask as you turn to look in the mirror, loving the feel of satin sliding over your skin.

“Yeah,” she confirms, “definitely. Jake’s gonna have trouble keeping his hands off you.”

“It’s perfect then,” you bite your lip, “thanks for the help, Nat.”

“No problem, what shoes are-” she’s interrupted by her doorbell ringing, making her eyes widen, “shit, that’s Bob. I gotta go.”

“Just Bob?” You give her a smile before checking the time, “at almost 10? Kind of late for a social call. Or is it a booty-“

“Bye Liv, see you Saturday if not sooner!” She cuts you off with a grin as the screen goes dark.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Jake let you know he’s back over Saturday around noon.

Jake: I’m back. Holy shit I miss you.

Liv: I miss you too. I can’t wait to see you…especially when you’re all dressed up 😏

Jake: Can’t wait to see you either. I’m so glad you’re coming. Roo said he was going to invite you.

Liv: Yes, as your official date and his unofficial one🙄😂

Jake: 🤷🏼 It doesn’t matter to me as long as we get to go home with you after.

Liv: You will be. I’m not giving either of you an option.

Jake: Yes ma’am 🫡

Jake: I like it when you’re bossy. It’s hot.

Liv: I’ll remember that 😏

Jake: 🥵

Liv: 😘

Liv: I better start getting ready. See you soon.

Jake: Can’t wait.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“Liv?” Jake calls as he shuts the door to your place a few hours later.

“In the bedroom,” you breathe a sigh of relief since you’ve been struggling to reach the zipper, “could you get my…”

You’re lost for words as your eyes meet his in the mirror. He looks so fucking good in all white.

“Wow,” he breathes, his eyes doing a hungry perusal of their own as he approaches, “you look incredible, Liv.”

“So do you,” you smile, turning your head for a kiss. It’s brief yet charged and a promise for what’s to come when the three of you get back tonight.

“Can you get my zipper?” You ask, turning to look at him in the mirror again, “I can’t quite reach it.

“Sure,” he murmurs hotly. Goosebumps follow his calloused fingertips as he trails down your bare back. He pulls the tab away from your skin so as not to catch it and inhales sharply when he reveals your lack of underwear by doing so.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you say with a little pout, “don’t tell Roo.”

“I won’t,” he promises before kissing your bare shoulder, “but he’s going to figure it out. He can’t keep his eyes or his hands off your ass.”

“That’s the plan,” you smile, eyes drifting close at the way his erection nudges your ass.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” Jake chuckles. He’s teasing but it makes you shiver when he continues, “You’re gonna be in trouble when he finds out.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” you whisper, cheeks heating as you bite your lip.

“Yeah?” Jake meets your eyes in the mirror as he grazes the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth before gently sucking, not hard enough to leave a mark, “That’s…I’d like to see that.”

“Hopefully you can tonight,” you reply, turning your head for a kiss, but the doorbell rings just as your lips touch.

“Will you let him in?” You pull back regretfully, “I’ve got to put my lipstick on yet.”

“Course,” he pats your bottom as he pulls away, adjusting his obvious hard-on before walking out.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Your ears strain to hear what they’re saying as you paint your lips, but it suddenly goes quiet.

“Hey Ro-” you say as you walk out of your bedroom, stopping in your tracks at the sight.

Jake’s up against the closed front door, Bradley crowding him into it, his hat on the floor from Jake’s hands running through his curls.

“God Jake,” Bradley groans, burying his face into Jake's neck as he ruts shamelessly against him. His ass looks so good in those white pants, “look at you. I’m gonna be hard all fucking night.”

“Wait ‘til-oh,” Jake breathes, eyes screwed shut at something Bradley does with his mouth, “wait ‘til you see Liv.”

You decide it’s a good time to make your presence known and clear your throat as you pick up his fallen hat.

They both freeze like kids with their hands in the cookie jar.

Bradley straightens, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“Fuck,” he breathes lowly as he takes his hat back, slowly looking you over, “you look stunning.”

“Thank you,” you smile, having to look away for a moment from his intense, heated look, “so do you.”

“Oh,” he clears his throat as he snaps out of the lust-fueled trance. “I brought flowers.”

“Sunflowers because they’re your favorite,” he says, giving you a small smile as he hands you an assortment of the big yellow flowers from where he��d set them down on the table by the door.

“You remembered,” you murmur.

“How could I forget? I’ve been in love with you for years,” He replies, leaning forward to kiss your cheek to avoid your lipstick.

“Thank you,” you whisper, blinking back tears.

“I also got these for Jake,” he picks up the other bouquet, this one full of coral-ish roses. He blushes adorably as he hands the bouquet to an also pink-faced Jake, “The lady at the flower shop said they signify passion, excitement, and appreciation.”

“I’ve never gotten flowers before,” Jake swallows thickly, obviously touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Roo. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, relaxing a little with Jake’s appreciation.

“I brought cupcakes,” Jake says, nodding to the little box on the counter, “from that little bakery you guys talked about going to when you were kids. Figured we got dig into them when we get back and not wearing all white and a pretty dress.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you laugh, “Thank you, Jake, that was sweet of you.”

“No way, you even got the strawberry kind I talked about,” Bradley’s eyes widen as he opens the box, “and the chocolate peanut butter for Liv.”

“Yeah,” Jake looks down bashfully as he hands his flowers to put in a vase beside yours, “I put it in my phone after you guys were talking about it so I wouldn’t for-“

He cuts off and when you look up from the flowers, you realize because they’re kissing again. But this time, it’s slower, sweeter, more tender than needy like before.

“I haven’t been there since my mom died,” Bradley says when he pulls back, cupping Jake’s jaw and rubbing his thumb softly over his cheek, “thank you.”

Tears return to your eyes and you quickly grab a tissue to dab at your eyes, not wanting your mascara to run. The clock catches your eye as you toss it in the garbage. “We better get going or we’ll be late.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“Looks even better in person,” Nat smiles as she looks you over, looking stunning in her dress whites as well.

“Thank you,” You reply, “Look at you, Nat, you look great.”

“Thanks,” she grins.

“Bob thinks so too,” you nod your chin to Bob by the bar, who’s watching her every move.

“Keep that on the down low,” She flushes uncharacteristically, “it’s…I’m not sure what it is yet.”

“I will,” you promise, swirling the straw in the drink Jake brought you before being pulled away by Simpson, along with Bradley. The pair of them with Maverick are talking with RADM Cain, Uncle Ice, and several other big wigs.

Nat excuses herself a few minutes later so you make your way to the bar to order a second drink. Feeling the weight of someone’s eyes, you turn to see Bradley slowly looking you over from head to toe, lingering on your ass. You smile into your drink and make your way to your seat, which is conveniently between Bradley and Jake at the same table with the rest of the squad.

As usual, there’s lots of teasing, lots of laughter, and lots of drinks when in the presence of the group.

When the dinner is nearing the end, the lights dim for speeches and Bradley’s big hand settles on your thigh like he was waiting for it, making you jump. Jake glances your way at the movement, lip quirking when he notices the placement of Bradley’s hand.

Your nipples harden and goosebumps follow as his hand finds the slit by the outside of your thigh, slowly running his calloused fingertips up and down, higher and higher each time. He pauses by the time he gets to your hip, instantly noticing the lack of fabric where your underwear should be.

A decision you’re beginning to regret with the wetness suddenly gathering between your thighs.

“No underwear?” He murmurs, voice low and husky, making you shiver.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice.

“Did you forget?” His warm breath against your ear makes your eyes flutter closed.

You shake your head again, biting your lip at the way his breath hitches.

“Livi, Livi, Livi,” he sighs softly, sounding disappointed. Yet a quick glance down shows his cock certainly isn’t, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Ruin me,” you whisper hoarsely, finally meeting his lust-blown pupils in the low light, sliding your hand up his thigh and over his rock-hard erection, “you said when you were healed you were going to ruin me. So do it.”

His soft groan is covered by whatever Admiral Simpson just said.

“Now, I’d like to invite Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Seresin, and Captain Mitchell to the stage to receive their Distinguished Flying Crosses.”

Bradley’s face, already flushed from arousal, darkens further from the sudden attention. He manages to discreetly adjust himself before rising with Jake to take the stage.

Your heart races in panic as he climbs the stairs but breathe a sigh of relief when he turns; his coat covers his groin. Jake is biting his cheek to not break out into a shit-eating grin.

Simpson begins speaking again and Bradley meets your eyes, the look he gives you dark and full of promise.

He has to look away when you wink.

Bring it on, Roo. Bring it on.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

All of that is put on the back burner though as your boys each are pinned with the Distinguished Flying Cross. Proud tears fill your eyes as they shake RADM Cain’s hand and spill over when Bradley pulls Mav in for a hug.

The rest of the evening passes quickly in a blur of handshakes, smiles, and photographs. The drinks are flowing but you, Jake, and Bradley are all taking it easy in anticipation of your later plans.

Finally, you’re able to sneak out undetected.

You almost think Bradley’s forgotten by the way the conversation flows easily in Jake’s truck on the way back to your apartment. He’s laughing about something Jake says as he helps you out of the truck and you’re fighting the urge to pout as you pull out your keys to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes you when the key slides into the lock; a hand weaves into your hair and tugs your head back, exposing your throat.

“You thought I forgot, didn’t you?” Bradley breathes, nipping your neck. Even through the layers of fabric, it’s obvious how hot and hard he is. “Can’t believe you thought I’d forget almost having my superior officers seeing the hard-on you gave me.”

You whimper as he tightens his hold, almost to the point of pain.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“Uhm,” your mind scrambles to think of what he asked, but then you remember, nodding, “Yeah I-I thought you forgot.”

“Well I haven’t,” he chuckles lowly, “Do you want to give your neighbors a show?” He continues when you shake your head as much as his grip on your hair will allow, “then open the door.”

He crowds you inside as it swings open and you hear Jake take out your keys, setting them on the table before the door closes.

Bradley walks you straight into your bedroom, pinning you against the bed by his hips, rutting his cock into your ass.

“I want you to say ‘red’ if you want me to stop what I’m doing immediately,” he rasps, stepping back to slowly pull down your zipper, “‘Yellow’ if you need me to slow down,” he inhales sharply as the silky material falls to the floor, leaving you bare, “and ‘green’ to keep going.”

“Okay,” you laugh nervously, “should I call you Mr. Grey too?”

Your body jolts forward and you hear the slap before you feel the hot sting on your ass cheek, making you inhale sharply.

“Nah,” Bradley‘s smirk is evident in his voice, and your face suddenly feels as warm as your bottom, “sir is fine.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, hissing when he leaves a matching handprint on your other cheek, gripping the abused flesh harshly.

“Fuck,” Jake curses from somewhere behind you, sounding wrecked already.

“What was that?” Bradley mocks, “didn’t sound like ‘yes sir’ to me.”

You whimper, thighs coated with your arousal.

But when his hand releases your ass presumably to spank you again, you quickly rush out, “Yes sir.”

“‘Atta girl,” he smiles, spanking you again anyway, harder yet, “sit down.”

Your legs are trembling as you turn around to sit. The look in Bradley’s eyes and the way Jake’s palming the front of his pants has you looking at the floor while your thighs rub together.

“I should make you stand in the corner like the naughty little girl you are,” he grips your chin, making you look up at him, “but I’ll be nice and let you watch. This time.”

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

His eyes darken further but he drops his hand and turns to Jake, who’s breathing as hard as you.

“What should I do to her?” He asks, unbuttoning Jake’s jacket and pulling it off before doing the same to his own, hanging them both on the back of the chair, “Hmm? Give her the spanking she doesn’t want but obviously needs?”

The humiliation from his words has you squirming, but you don’t let on; instead scoffing, eyes narrowing as Jake nods.

“I think so too,” Bradley agrees, unbuttoning Jake’s pants before pushing them over his ass and down his legs, letting him step out of them while he takes off his own.

“Then how about I make her watch while I get you off? I’ve been dying to get my mouth on that pretty cock,” Bradley continues, pointedly ignoring you.

“Please,” Jake whines, pulling Bradley in by his dog tags for a kiss. Bradley quickly takes control of it, licking into Jake’s mouth.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth?” Bradley asks when he finally pulls back, “Or do you want to cum inside her?”

“Both,” Jake sighs as Bradley’s hands run down his back before pushing under his boxer-briefs.

“I think we can make that happen. We can both fill her up. Not sure if she’ll get to cum tonight or not” Bradley chuckles, squeezing his bare ass and making him groan.

“You like that?” Bradley coos, kissing along Jake’s nodding jaw as he squeezes again, “God, the things I want to this ass.”

“Like what?” Jake gasps, head falling back as Bradley ravishes his neck.

You bite back a whimper at the sight, leaning back to trail your fingers between your legs and circle your clit.

“The same thing I want to do to Liv’s,” Bradley replies, “spank it, bite it, eat it, fuck it,” he pulls back from Jake’s neck at his shudders to look at him, “Yeah? You want that?”

His words just spur you on. You definitely want it.

“I want it,” Jake answers, “please Roo. I want to do it all with you.”

“Fuck,” Bradley whispers before meeting him again in a deep kiss.

You circle your clit faster as you watch them kiss and touch, pushing their undershirts over their heads, and soon their boxers are gone too. The tiniest whimper leaves you when you fall over the edge right as Jake gets his hand around Bradley’s cock.

Both of their heads whip toward you at the sound, but your eyes fall closed as the pleasure consumes you.

“Go sit down while I take care of this,” you hear Bradley sigh to Jake before giving him a quick kiss.

The way he talks about you like you’re an object has arousal rushing through you again.

Strong hands lift your body before turning you over, and when you open your lust-heavy eyes, you find yourself across Bradley’s knee.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: Phew that was a long one! I’m really sorry to cut it there but it was almost double what I normally write and I wanted to go into Bradey and Jake’s relationship a little more before they get involved more. What did you think?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Tagging:

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@dizzybee03

@shanimallina87

@lexixstewart

@hookslove1592

@jessicab1991

@livzblogg

@carolina-on-my-mind03

@racerchix21

@mrsbradshaw-seresin01

@sydneejean

@xoxabs88xox

@midnightmagpiemama

@its-the-pilot

@kmc1989

@psuedochakra

@fandomology101

@kneelforloki

@djs8891

@mavrellover91

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@seitmai

[topguncortez]

I Remember Everything - J. Sersin

whumptober masterlist || previous day

prompt: unhealthy coping mechanism

synopsis: In the aftermath of a crash, Jake tries to remember what happened, but unfortunately, he has picked up some new habits along the way

warnings: character death, grief, mentions of drinking, unhealthy ways of coping, brain injury, memory loss

word count: 1.4k

“Hey this is Y/N, sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Bye!” 

The Hard Deck was a bustling place for a Friday night. The local retirees who lived on base usually came out for an early dinner followed by a drink or two. Sailors who were docked at port wanting to get a jumpstart on their weekend, before they got back underway. And the TopGun recruits, who knew that for the next ten weeks they needed to have the utmost focus and eliminate all distractions, spending their last night of freedom at the homey bar that the Navy liked to call home. 

Jake had gotten to the Hard Deck before any of his crew did. He didn’t even bother to change out of his khakis, wanting that first sip of cool amber liquid to soothe the ache in his head he’s had all day. Ever since the accident, he hadn’t totally been himself. The doctor had said it was a concussion, giving him a short-term profile before sending him back up to the sky. But others, mainly Phoenix and Bradley, were convinced that they had missed something. They knew that concussions can have serious side effects, but they didn’t know that they could totally change a person they once knew. 

“Seresin,” Phoenix greeted, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a tank top, “Didn’t want to change?” 

“Nope,” Jake shook his head, downing the shot of clear liquid in his hand. He grimaced at the burning sensation, “Didn’t want to go home.” 

Phoenix nodded her head, counting the glasses in front of him, “Going a little heavy already?” 

“Are you my fucking mom?” 

“Don’t be a dick, Bagman,” Bradley chimed in, stepping up behind Phoenix, “It’s not even five yet and you’re halfway through a bottle of tequila.” 

“My fucking god,” Jake groaned, “This is why I don’t go home. All you two do and Y/N is fucking nag me.” 

Bradley and Phoenix both shared a look, their hearts plummeting in their chests. Bradley lightly nudged Phoenix, telling her that it was her turn to remind him. Last time Bradley had done it, it resulted in a black eye and a busted lip. 

“Jake,” Phoenix started, placing her hand on his arm as he leaned against the bar, “Y/N is gone, remember?” 

Jake blinked for a second, trying to recollect the memories that had been lost. That was another thing from the accident Jake had acquired, memory lost. Sometimes it was a good thing, he didn’t remember the last fight he had with her, or the first time he ever saw his dad hit his mom, or even attending the funeral for his best friend. But other times it was a bad thing, such as not remembering that he had attended her funeral. 

“Oh,” He swallowed, nodding his head, “Yeah I remember. I mean, she used to nag me about it.” 

Neither Bradley or Natasha said anything for the rest of the night, opting to just keep an eye on Jake and slip his keys from his back pocket. It was hard watching someone you love fall apart right in front of you. It was even harder when they didn’t remember why they were falling apart. 

The accident happened so fast. Jake had only been back on land for a couple of days, after a long trip underway. Y/N had made plans for the two of them to spend the day together, getting pampered and then surprising Jake to a fancy steak dinner at one of San Diego’s top spots. Jake would never admit it outloud, but he was a sucker for a good massage and pedicure after months of sleeping on a cardboard thin twin mattress in the middle of the ocean. But while Y/N thought she was going to be surprising Jake, he was actually going to be surprising her. The ring box in his suit pocket was burning a hole while hanging up in the backseat of his truck. 

“I really, really like that girl that Bradley has been seeing,” Y/N chatted mindlessly as they drove to the restaurant, “Oh turn left at the light.” 

“Baby, why can’t you just put the directions on the screen,” Jake chuckled. 

“Cause that would be cheating. It’s a surprise,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Anyway, back to the girl Bradley is seeing. We hung out a lot while you guys were gone and she’s super cool. I feel like he’d be dumb to not tie this one down.” 

“You and I both know Bradley Bradshaw isn’t going to tie anyone down,” Jake said, turning the direction she wanted him to.

“You two have something in common then,” Y/N poked and Jake shot her a look. After five years together, he knew that she was jumping at the bit to get engaged, and he was too. He just wanted everything to be perfect. 

“I don’t plan on living with a roommate until late in my forties like Bradshaw.” 

“Hey, you’re 35, basically already- Jake!” 

Jake gasped as he slammed on the break, and felt his body jolt forward. The sound of smashing metal and breaking glass was loud. The deploying of the airbags were like a bomb going off in his ears as he felt the force breaking his nose. The silence though, the silence was the loudest thing as the car came to a halt after being hit. The scent of copper filled the air, Jake’s head pounding as he turned to look towards his passenger seat. 

“Baby,” Jake cried out. Blood was gushing from a cut on her forehead, and her shiny hair was matted and stained. Jake reached a shaky hand out, pressing his fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse, “No, no, no,” He sobbed, “Help me! Call 9-1-1! Please!”  

He could hear the commotion from outside the car, the distant sound of sirens getting closer to them. He could hear chatter and someone yelling if everyone was okay. But all Jake could do was stare at her. Despite the blood and the sprinkle of glass in her hair, she looked peaceful, as if she had just fallen asleep. Jake kissed his fingertips, before placing them against her lips. 

“I love you,” He whispered, tears falling down his face and blurring his vision, “I want you to marry me, baby. I want you to marry me,” He was gasping for breath through his sobs, as he gently closed the eyes he loved to look into. But there was something about those lifeless orbs looking back at him, that he knew was going to haunt him forever. 

— — — 

“Bagman!” Bradley yelled, snapping Jake out of his thoughts, “You alright?” 

“Y-yeah,” Jake nodded his head, “Need some air.” 

Bradley nodded, not totally believing Jake. Ever since the accident, Jake hadn’t been one hundred percent the same. Sure, he had returned to flying. He got a clean bill of health from both his doctor and his shrink (something that Maverick made him go through). He had cleaned out his house, packing up all of Y/N’s things and returning them to her mother. It had been months since the funeral, and Jake had felt like he had gone through all of the stages of grief. 

It was just the lapses in memory that had him screwed up. And led him to picking up the bottle. 

Once Jake was outside the Hard Deck, a fresh glass of beer in his hand, he pulled out his phone, going to the familiar messages that had all gone unread. 

‘Jake: I’m not sure where you are, but can you let me know you are okay?’ 

‘Jake: sometimes i forget that you aren’t coming home’

‘Jake: i miss you’ 

‘Jake: Penny kicked me out of the hard deck tonight. Can you believe it?’ 

‘Jake: i really really need you tonight’ 

‘Jake: i got invited to bradley’s stupid fucking engagement party. I guess you were right’

‘Jake: Where are you at?’ 

Jake sighed as he started typing another text towards her number. He knew that Y/N’s mother had her phone, and how pathetic it was to keep texting her number. Even sometimes he went as far as calling her, when he was too worried about where she was and really couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t home, the calls always went to voicemail. But when Jake couldn’t remember what happened, and was wondering where Y/N was, the text thread was a gentle reminder that she wasn’t coming home. That she was buried, five miles away, in a grave that still hadn’t had a headstone yet. 

‘Jake: Bradley decided to get married on our anniversary. I told him to fuck off, that that’s our day’ 

Jake placed his phone down next to him, picking up his glass and taking a hearty sip.

taglist: @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @sio-ina-bottle @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @toobouquet @malindacath @badasspizzalover @justenoughmadnesss @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch @hookslove1592 @noonenuts @marvellouscroissant @senawashere @bradshawsprincess @alwayshave-faith @smoothdogsgirl @4everademigod

taglist form

[laracrofted]

and so it goes

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

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

wc: 4.1K

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

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

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

“We should probably go inside…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rested your elbows on the sticky counter and leaned in. 

He nodded a confirmation. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

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

You didn’t seem to care that Bradley noticed. 

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

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

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

He wanted to sink his own into it. 

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

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

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

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

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

He really does.

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

“Moon looks really cool tonight.” 

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

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

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

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

Not your best work there, Bradshaw. 

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

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

He probably deserves that. 

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

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

It is fine. He can wait. 

He can stay out here all night. 

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

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

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

Maverick can kill him on New Year's.  

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

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

He does it again, soaking in those gorgeous noises. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What changed, baby?” 

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

“You still like them, don’t you?” 

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

“You need to relax?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“Good girl.” 

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

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

“Yes, I… Tell me how.” 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing like this. 

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

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

Right. He asked you a question. 

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

How to be good for him.

Shivers run down your spine at the thought. 

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

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

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

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

It feels unreal. 

Before Bradley even really gets talking. 

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

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

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

Pleasure is building and building. 

You are hot enough to burn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I think… I’m…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Giddiness warms your chest. 

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

Worth it. 

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

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

“Did… Did I forget to ask you out?”  

“It might’ve slipped through the cracks.” 

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

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

You give your answer.

“Thought you’d never ask, Bradshaw.” 

(...anyway... thoughts?)

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @attapullman

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@pinkdaisies1106

@angelbabyyy99

@nouis-bum

@djs8891

@purelyfiction

@86laura11

@shanimallina87

@floydsglasses

@floydsmuse

@nervousnerdwitch

@mygyn

@jessicab1991

@its-the-pilot

@dempy

[punishereditz]

Under The Table

Pairing: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Slow burn. Enemies to lovers. Fake dating. One use of y/n. Little bit of angst. Bad family relationships. Mommy issues. Smut. Unprotected sex. P in V. Marking kink. Praise kink. Choking kink. Creampie.

AN: This is by far my favorite story I have ever wrote.

Summary: 'Kick me under the table all you want; I won't shut up.'

~

You smiled warmly at Bradley, and he knew by the look on your face and how nicely you were acting, you were up to something. "Okay, what do you want? Spit it out." He took a sip of his beer, tilting his head at you.

"I need a favor. I need you to come to this family dinner and pretend to be my boyfriend..." You trailed off. Smiling at him nervously as you waited for him to speak, but he only looked at you perplexed.

"Your family knows me; they won't believe it." You rolled your eyes. Leaning against the hard deck counters and stretching. Sighing in defeat. Knowing that he has a point.

"True, but I'm desperate here." You pleaded.

"Can't you just get out of it?"

"I have. Eight times. They won't let me talk my way out of it this time. I have no choice but to go." He hummed. Nodding his head as he took in the information. He looked up and saw your sad expression, knowing that diner with your family is the last thing you want to.

"When is it?" He asked.

"Tomorrow night." Bradley goes to respond but he is quickly cut off.

"Could I have one more sweetheart?" Jake spoke from behind you. And when you turned to him, he held a cocky grin. His eyes glistening with sin, and you put on your fakest smile you could put on.

You turned your back to him to get his beer, and when you did, his eyes skimmed over your body, and Bradley noticed it. He noticed how Jake looked at you. How he always looks at you for that matter. Bladley knows that Jake flirts with everyone, but you? It's this constant game of teasing and toying with you. And Jake knows you hate it. He knows that you can't stand him, so he takes his game of flirting to level ten with you. At this point, after months of flirting, it's just become an ambitious sport for him. And for you, it has been tortuous.

But as Bradley looks at Jake practically undress you with his stare; he gets an idea. A brilliant, evil idea. He knows there's a good chance you'll hate him for it, but not only him, but also everyone else sees the tension that you two have had between each other for almost a whole year. So, he puts it all out on the table, and he goes over to Jake as you hand him his drink. Looking between him and you.

"Hey, y/n was just telling me that she is looking for a date for tomorrow." Bradley swings his arm over Jake, a smile tugging at his lips.

Your eyes grow wide as you look at Rooster. Your heart sinking to your stomach and your breath being pulled right out of your lungs. Fear taking over your body as you feel every muscle tense.

"Is that so?" Jake looks over to you. Looking at the death glare you give both Bradley and him.

"Yes, but I've got it all sorted out." You spoke through gritted teeth. Trying your very best to say it nicely and put on a smile, but you failed miserably.

"Really? Cause you were just telling me that-" Bradley tries to speak, but you quickly put a stop to it.

"Bradley..." You said in a warning tone, and by the look you were giving him, he knew that he was for sure a dead man.

"You know, I would love to keep you company sweetheart." Jake said his words arrogantly and it only made your blood boil hotter. And at this point, you were so annoyed, you didn't even care if you were nice or not.

"Call me sweetheart one more time and you'll be paying for everyone's round." You let your filter drop and said what you wanted to.

Bradley knew by the darkness that grew in your eyes that he should step in. "Can I speak to you?" He gently put his hand on your shoulder and he went back to where he sat.

"What the hell are you thinking?!" You spoke before he could, and he sighed.

"You know just as well as I do that your family won't buy that we're together." He tilts his head, and you don't want to hear. Mostly because you know it is true.

"It's one night with him. Then it's over." He reassures you. Taking your hands in his.

"We hate each other, how am I supposed to make them believe that we care for each other?" You say in true panic. You know Rooster is right. It will just be one night for two hours at most. You see him every day, so how's that night going to be any different?

You know that Jake is the only way you could make it work because Rooster can't do it. You shake your head, scoffing. Laughing at yourself because this situation just keeps getting more and more ridiculous by the second. Your mother has been up your ass about when you would start dating. It's the only thing she talks about when she sees you, and it is your last worry. You're too busy trying to graduate from medical school and keep the lights on, but she is worried about when you will find a man. All your sisters and brothers are dating, getting married, having kids, and you don't want that. Not yet. But she refuses to see eye to eye with you.

So, finally one day, in frustration, you blurted out that you're dating someone so she would leave you alone about it, but that wasn't good enough. Oh, no. She has to meet him. So, you look from Bradley to Jake. Rolling your eyes, knowing what you have to do. You take a deep breath. Letting go of Roosters hands and walking back to the man that is smugly smiling at you.

It's only one night. It's only one night. You remind yourself. "Meet me at my house at five, not a second later." You say firmly. You go to walk away, but you quickly turn back to him. "Wear something nice." You write your address and number down on a napkin, handing it to him. "We'll talk over everything on the way there." You walk away before he can say a word. Shooting Bradley one last death glare, and he only smiles proudly.

You go back to work. Trying to focus on wiping the counters down, and not the mistake you just made. Uh, I'm going to regret this. You thought to yourself. The feeling of dread taking over you.

~

You sprinted into your bedroom, not even standing in the room for more than a second until you heard a knock at the door. You let your head fall forward, sighing, you run your hand over your face. Turning around and leaving the room, you went to the door to be greeted by Jake who is actually on time.

He looked you up and down, his eyebrows furrowing. "What are you wearing?" He said with a tone of disgust that made you scoff.

"My scrubs." You explained.

"Why?" He shrugged his shoulders as he looked down at you.

"I just got out of school." You stepped out of your door. Locking it behind you, not even worrying about trying to change, knowing that you don't have any time.

"You're in medical school?" He asked as he followed you to your car. Getting in the passenger's seat.

"Yes." You respond, taking a deep breath. He nodded slowly. He looked you up and down once more. He hummed to himself. Having no idea that you were in medical school. And now that he sits and thinks about it, it all makes sense. It explains why you are so tired some days at The Hard Deck. Why you work so hard, trying to make as much money as possible.

But he was quickly pulled out of his thoughts as you started talking. You told him why he was going with you, and that he had to pretend to be your boyfriend, and that made him laugh. The whole situation was hilarious to him. Truth be told, he thought it was priceless. He couldn't get enough of it. Having to pretend to be your boyfriend because you got frustrated with your mother? He loved it. He has been trying so long to get close to you, and all it took was you losing your temper and Bradley running his mouth. Who knew?

You sure as hell wasn't expecting this. You didn't see this going this way, but here you are in your car with Hangman, explaining to him that he needs to be your boyfriend for the night. God, how stupidly ridiculous. The closer you got to your mother's house, the more anxious you got. Your leg was bouncing, and your breath was unsteady. Your hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. You were on edge and Hangman noticed it. I mean, he knew that you were nervous about this, but he didn't realize just how badly it bothered you. It made him sad, seeing you so edge.

You took a deep breath, leaning back in your seat. You stopped the car and looked up to the house. "Let's get this over with." You mumbled. Getting out of the car. You opened your back door and grabbed your sweater, putting it on, you hugged it tight to your chest. Walking up to the door, Hangman followed close behind you and his stare stayed on you. He looked at you closely and how you shivered. He didn't know if it was nerves, or that you were just cold, or maybe a little bit of both.

You knocked at the door and only a second later, the door swung open. Your mother had a huge smile on her face, and she held her arms open. Wrapping you up in hug. What's so bad about this? Hangman thought to himself.

She let go of you but kept her hands on your arms. She looked you up and down. "Uh, what are doing wearing those scrubs?" Her tone was playful, but you knew she was serious.

"I didn't have time to change." You spoke softly. Hangman looked down at you, concern in his eyes as he saw how uncomfortable you were, and it confused him. He wanted to know why, but he didn't have time to think. Your mother wrapping him up in a hug.

"You must be the boyfriend!" She beamed. Then looked him up and down with curiosity, she stepped out of the way. Holding her hand out in a gesture, letting you step inside. She closed the door behind you, and Jake continued to stare at you curiously. Your arms crossed over your chest. Your mother walked up to him and held her hand out to him and introduced herself. "And you are?" She raised a brow at him.

"Jake Seresin." He shook her hand. Giving her small smile. "She hasn't told you about me?" Hangman looked down to you, his words playful. You nudged his arm. Shooting him a glare. This is going to be a long night. You thought.

"Ah, all she talks about is work." Your mother chuckled and her words irritated you. Typical.

"Let's eat. Shall we?" You spoke up. Putting a smile on. You interrupted before it could go any further and she clapped her hands together happily.

She walked you over to the table before she went into the kitchen. Jake sat by you. You keep your eyes down. Your mother starting to bring food to the table. She then sat down herself. Sitting across from you. You both fixed your plate, then she spoke.

"So, tell me, how did you two meet?" She asked and you froze. You looked over to Hangman, and he had the same fear in his eyes as you did.

"Well..." He started, but you interrupted him.

"He came into the bar one night celebrating. And..." You chuckled. Before you continued. "He can't hold his liquor. He got so sick, and I had to take care of him. I mean, he puked everywhere." You turned to look at Jake and he was steaming with anger. You smiled proudly. Maybe tonight might not be so bad after all.

"Aw, that's nice." Your mother said genuinely, and you brought your napkin up, covering your mouth. Trying to hold back your laughter. "Now, Jake, what is it that you do?" She looked up to him.

"I'm a naval aviator ma'am. Top of my class at Top Gun." He grinned proudly. Eating the food.

"Really? I thought you were third." You smirked, sipping your wine. He brought his hand up, taking a bite of his food, he used his elbow to hit the bottom of the wine glass. Making you spill it down your chest.

He bit his lip to hide his smile. He turned to you, grabbing a napkin. "Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart. Let me get that for you." He used a napkin to rub your chest. And as you stared at him, you were thinking of a hundred different ways you could kill him.

"It's fine honey." You spoke through gritted teeth, and he kept moving his hands over your chest, you waited until your mom wasn't paying attention, then you slapped his hand. Snatching the napkin from him. He had to hold his laugh back.

"How long have you been together?" She asked and you wondered how many questions she was going to ask.

"A year."

"6 months." You both spoke over each other.

You looked over at him confused. "Uh..." You began to spoke. "6 months." You said, nodding your head, putting a smile on your face.

Your mom slowly nodded, and she hummed, eating the food. She looked between the two of you. "Jake, how did you ask my daughter out?" Oh, dear god. You thought.

"Oh, actually, I asked him out." You spoke before he could, and his eyes grew wide in fear. "Yeah, I kept waiting and waiting for him to make a move, until finally one day I just asked him out myself." You chuckled.

Glaring over at Jake, you have never seen him get so mad before. Then, suddenly, he kicked your foot under the table. You groaned and when you did, your mom looked up to you confused. You pretended to cough. Acting like you were choked, you glared over to Jake, then you leaned over to him.

Whispering in his ear, "Kick me under the table all you want, I won't shut up." You nudged him, then looked back to your mom. What she said next completely shocked the both of you.

"So, when are you having kids?" Your eyes grew wide, and your cheeks blushed in embarrassment. Jake snorted the wine up his nose, choking. You sighed, completely embarrassed and surprised by your mom's words.

"Not anytime soon." It was impossible to hide the irritation in your tone.

"Well, why not? You need to settle down. He has a good job. It's time to think of the future." She spoke and you gripped the fork tightly. Your knuckles turning white, Jake noticed how badly it bothered you.

"I do have the future in my mind." You didn't even try to speak nicely or put on a smile.

"Clearly not. You don't want to keep kids in daycare with strangers. You need to quick that job." You rolled your eyes and stood up. Putting your napkin down on the plate harder than you meant to. You grabbed your plate, then spoke. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen?" You said to your mother. Walking to the kitchen. She then stood up and followed you.

"What's wrong honey?" She asked as you sat your plate in the sink. You turned to her. Rage in your eyes. "What's wrong? You completely embarrassed me out there." You said annoyed.

"Oh, don't be silly." Your rage grew.

"Silly? I don't want to be a stay-at-home mom! I don't want to be a housewife! I like working. I enjoy it. I always have. Why can't you fucking see that?!" You lost it. You finally had it to your wits end. Tears were in your eyes, and you stormed out.

You rushed outside and got into your car. You rubbed your hands over your face. Taking a deep shaky breath, you didn't allow any tears to fall down your face. You just stared down into your lap. Sitting there with your thoughts, then, a few minutes later, the passenger's side door opened. Jake got in, staring at you, he looked at you worriedly.

"You okay?" His voice was soft and comforting.

"I'm fine." You kept your stare down. Fidgeting with your hands. "I'm sorry about that. I don't typically lose my temper." You said sincerely. Looking up to him, you softly smiled.

"You don't need to apologize. I understand." He kept a comforting warm tone with you. He looked down for a moment.

"Why don't you let me drive you home?" You looked to him confused. Why would he do that? You thought to yourself. You looked at him closer. At the concern on his face. Why is he acting so nice? You didn't understand it. Just a few minutes ago he was spilling wine on you, now he is trying to comfort you. And why do you actually feel safe with him? He's usually the last person you want to be around, but right now, you couldn't be happier to be with him.

You looked down. Then slowly nodded. "Yeah..." You whispered. Getting out of the car, you walked over to his side. He closed the door for you, then he got into the driver's seat. Pulling off of the curb, he started driving to your apartment.

The ride was silent, but it wasn't bad. It was comfortable silence. Odd enough. It confused you though. Why he was doing this for you. He is probably just trying to be nice. You thought. You're sure that that is all it is. He just feels bad. He's giving you ride back to your apartment, that's all. Hangman probably could care less. Right...? You started questioning things. Finally, you shook your head, trying to shake your thoughts that was running a 100 miles per hour.

You came to a stop in front of your place. He got out of the car, coming and opening your door, you got out. He started walking with you to the door until he spoke, "Can't hold my liquor, huh?" He smiled down at you, and you started laughing.

"Puking like crazy." You joked. Starting to laugh harder, it warmed Jake's heart that he was able to make you laugh. "Hey, you deserved that." You chuckled. Looking up at him. You stopped in front of the door to your building.

"Yeah, guess I did." He chuckled with you. His smile growing. He rested his hands in his pockets.

"Was the wine spilling necessary?" You raised a brow up at him.

"Oh, absolutely. You deserved that." He used your own words against you. "Guess that makes us even." His smile grew as you laughed at him. Shaking your head.

"You're an asshole Jake Seresin." You chuckled, smiling warmly at him. He took a step closer to you. His eyes locked on yours.

"And you're a jerk." His words were teasing and there was something about the way your name sounded on his tongue made your breath hitch.

As he stepped even closer, the tension was so strong, you could cut it with a knife. He gently rested his hand on your cheek. Cupping your face, he leaned closer. His eyes traveling from your eyes down to your lips. Then, he kissed you. His lips softly pressed against yours. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest, it was racing so fast. You leaned into him. His hand going to your hip, and you rested your hands on his shoulders. He pulled away. His breathe a little bit heavier than it was before.

Your eyes went to his, and you needed more. And as if he read your mind. He bent down, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs, he threw you over his shoulder. His hand slapping your ass.

"Jake!" You squalled, and he laughed. He started to walk up the stairs. "What number?" He asked for your apartment number.

"47." He nodded, but you couldn't see him. He slapped your ass again. Not being able to resist himself. He put you down once he got to your door. You unlocked it, going inside, he followed behind you, and before you could close the door, he grabbed your legs. Lifting you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands on your ass, he closed the door, leaning his head up, he kissed you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. Deepening the kiss. You grind against him, and he moaned into your mouth. He led you to your bedroom, and he tossed you down on the bed. With a devilish grin, he crawled on top of you. Kissing your lips, his hands moved over your sides, then up to your breast. He lightly squeezed them. He pulled away, leaving messy kisses along your neck. You let your head fall back, your legs squeezing around his hips. He bit at your skin. Leaving marks on you, he raised up, his hand going to your shirt. You arched your back up. Allowing him to take it off.

Your hands went to his pants, but he grabbed your hands, stopping you, he pinned your hands down with one hand, his other hand moving along skin. Making goosebumps tickle at your skin. His hand snaked up your back, he unhooked your bra. Pushing it off of your shoulders, he threw it over his head with a low chuckle. His eyes ghosting over your bare chest, he groaned before he attacked your neck. His kisses rough, he grinds his hips against yours, kissing down your chest, he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking it. He gently bit down, then moving his tongue in circles. You arched your back, pushing your chest up in his mouth. A moan slipped from your mouth.

He moved over to your other breast, giving it the same amount of affection. When he pulled away, he made a pop sound. You pulled him up to you, your lips going to him. You kissed him, your tongue teasing his. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up. You both walked around the bed. Not breaking the kiss. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to have your hands on his skin. He pulled his shirt over his head. Your eyes dropping to his skin. His hands started to unzip his pants. Pulling them down with his underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight of him.

"Like what you see?" He raised a brow at you, a cocky grin on his lips. You rolled your eyes, scoffing, you pushed him back on the bed. You pulled your pants off, then you crawled on top of him. Kissing his neck, you kissed his abs, then you bit at his v line, and he whimpered under you. Your smile growing at his sweet sounds.

You kissed him desperately. The kiss all teeth and tongue. Completely messy. You started to rock your hips against him. He pulled away, groaning. His hands going to your hips, he gripped them tightly. He took your breast in his mouth. Needlingly kissing them. He took his cock in his hand, pumping it. He moved it along your folds, making you moan. He slowly pushed it inside of you.

You started to lower yourself down on him. The both of you sighing. He leaned up to kiss you. He wanted more. He needed more. If he was being honest, he didn't see things going anywhere between the two of you. He saw how determined you were. That the flirting was going nowhere. But now, you were riding his cock. Rocking your hips back and forth. He can't believe it. He feels like he is living in a dream. A beautiful, sweet, wet dream. But it's so real. He's actually fucking you, touching you, kissing you. He's always pictured what your body might look like, and it is even better than he could have imagined. Your sounds are even more heavenly than he fantasize.

He couldn't stop staring. He couldn't stop touching you. His hand moved from your hips, up your sides, to your breast, then he rested his hand on your throat. When he did, you clenched your walls tight around him. You were so close.

"That's it. Good girl. You like this?" His voice was lower as he praised you. His grip on your neck tightening just a little bit. Making your eyes roll to the back of your head, you moaned his name, your movement getting faster. He pushed his hips up into yours. A choked moan leaving your lips.

"Come for me sweetheart." He whispered into your ear. His middle finger going to your clit. Applying pressure to it, circling it. That's all it took for you to lose it. You milked his cock, moaning his name loudly. He kept pushing his hips into you until he soon hit his own climax. Filling you up, he whimpered. His hips slowing down as you both came down from your high. You moved off of him. His hand went to your waist. He traced small circles on your skin.

"That was..." You trailed off. Your breath heavy. You were speechless.

"The best you ever had?" He teased. His grin cheeky. You playfully slapped his chest.

"Don't worry. I'm not done with you yet." He spoke mischievously. Pulling you back on top of him.

[say-al0e]

Home Run

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.

___________________________________________________

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​

[thewulf]

Good News Part 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Original Request - So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.

A/N: Whew! Bless a lazy weekend, I've been able to crank these out. Please enjoy this tooth rotting fluff!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

Part 1

“You’re seriously going to do it?” Bradley’s voice dropped an octave as he asked his roommate on board the carrier a very serious question. They were few and far between, but he had to know. Jake hadn’t shut the hell up about you for the last six months. Bradley knew the two of you were serious when you moved across the country for him a year ago. He was transferred to Virginia, and you didn’t want to let him go, couldn’t let him go. So, you moved with him. Somehow you had Jake whipped beyond anything Bradley could’ve ever of dreamed from the man.

Jake smiled looking at the picture of the ring his dad had sent him on his phone. They were finally back in United States waters, and he had reception for the first time in weeks.

 He had ordered you engagement ring before he left and had his dad pick it up once it was ready. He only knew one thing, he wanted to marry the hell out of you. He was only reassured when he saw that beautiful face turn into a gigantic smile once you spotted him coming off the carrier. God, he loved you more than life itself.

“Tonight.” Jake nodded at his enemy turned good friend. After the dagger squad had dissolved they were both shipped off to Virginia while the rest of the squad was sent throughout the country. They made a truce in hopes of embarrassing everybody else out here. They were smart in doing so. Quickly, they became fast friends after their tumultuous beginning. But as Maverick said, near death brings everybody a bit closer.

“Tonight?” Bradley sat up from the bed he was lounging on surprise laced in his voice, “You didn’t mention that when you said you were going to propose a few weeks ago.” His eyes were nearly bugging from his head. Hell, he knew they were nearing their mid 30’s and it wasn’t weird to get married… it just surprised him. Especially coming from Jake. The one who used to flirt with anything that moved. But that was years ago. Years before you came around, “You sure?” Bradley asked wanting to make sure it was his best decision.

Jake nodded with a bright smile, “Never been so damn sure of anything in my life Rooster.” He clapped his friends back as he threw the bookbag over his shoulder, “Now, let’s get off this carrier.”

Bradley smile and nodded, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He was proud of his friend for taking that next step. It was never easy. But you made it so for him.

The two of them chatted and waited and chatted some more. They’d been docked for what felt like hours. It always took forever to disembark. No matter how well they prepped it always took what felt like decades to finally make it off. Everybody was terribly anxious to see their loved ones.

Finally, finally they were dismissed, and he was able to hold you. It was everything he needed and more. You were there. He was here. It was home. He was healed.

You would have sat in his lap on the ride back to your shared home had his parents not been driving in the front seat. So, you settled on snuggling up to him in the middle seat leaning your head on his shoulder. His parents were chatting away with their son as he mindlessly ran his fingers through your wavy hair. You were listening but you weren’t actually listening to the conversation. You were listening to his every heartbeat. His every breath. Smelling his Old Spice body wash and your favorite Tom Ford cologne that accented him perfectly. You were lost in taking him in. He was here. Finally, home. Finally.

His father let him know where he hid the ring in the house when he got some alone time with his son. His parents were throwing a welcome home party at your place, you’d always hosted. Jake just wanted to be home and his parents always insisted. Family was everything for them. The entirety of the Seresin clan flew out to Virginia Beach to welcome him home. Even some of your family made it over to welcome him back. As tired as he always was he was so grateful for the love his family gave him. He knew it was rare, so he never dreamed of pushing the love away. He was ever so thankful that you always understood and welcomed everybody with open arms. You always made them a priority.

Jake had decided to wait to ask you to marry him. Wait until everybody left for the night. Even until his parents left. He just wanted it to be you and him. He’d always dreamed of doing something big and grand, that was his style. But that wasn’t your style at all. A grand gesture would mortify you. You wanted something simple. He’d do anything for you. A simple gesture it was.

It was harder than he imagined waiting to propose to you. You didn’t seem to have a clue it was coming even though he pretty much told you earlier with the ‘even bigger news’ incoming. As smart and observant as you were this was something he absolutely adored about you. You’d miss the simplest things in front of you. Or you’d take something and overanalyze it into oblivion until it didn’t even make sense anymore. But he loved it. He loved the little blush that danced across your cheeks when the realization hit you. He loved the expressions your face always went through. Through and through, he loved you. There was nothing he had ever been so sure of. You. You were his end game.

He watched as you talked with almost every family member of his. How effortlessly you were able to hold a conversation when you needed to. He watched as all his brothers and sisters kids clung to you throughout the night. How easily you were able to play with them and shoo them off when needed. He was damn sure his heart nearly melted every time you made eye contact with him. You’d always look away quickly knowing you got caught. But he got caught as well and he didn’t give a damn. He loved watching you. Seeing you.

“Hey handsome,” You squeezed Jake’s side later on in the night after the cookout, “How are you holding up?”

He leaned into your touch. Shameless really. All he wanted to do is hold you. Touch you. Breathe you in. But his family made that really fucking hard to do that. He tried not to complain about it. He loved them dearly. They were always sure to try. How lucky was he? An incredible family and an even better person standing beside him.

“I’m just a bit tired.” He admitted to you. He never lied to you. Nor did you to him. Without much thought you gently ran your hands through his sculpted hair. You knew he didn’t care that you were messing up his hairstyle. Not when it was you. You felt the sigh escape his lips as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. He allowed himself to really be in the moment with you.

“I’m sorry honey.” You cooed in his ear. If you could you’d shoo them all away. But you knew better. They’d come all in from across the country for him. Both of you knew it was just another few hours and then you’d get your alone time. Your hour of bliss before the sleep inevitably took over.

His eyes opened seeing your soft eyes giving him a concerned look, “It’s alright Y/N.” He kissed your lips quicky to reassure you, “Just a few more hours then you’re all mine.” He whispered into your ear nibbling at its base just enough to tease you. He already had you squirming in his arms.

You would’ve whispered something obscene had his own mother not called out to you then, “Y/N! Dear! Do you mind helping me serve the desserts?” She asked in her thicker than molasses southern accent with a big white toothy grin on her face. You’d never dreamed of saying no to her.

You grinned, “Of course Alice, I’ll be right there.” You waved to her before turning to your boyfriend.

“Let me go help your momma.” You kissed his cheek before turning. He caught your arm before you could get too far away from him.

“Thank you. It means a lot to her.” He pulled you in for quick kiss on the forehead, “Which means a whole lot to me.”

“You know I like helping her.” You smiled feeling all the love from him in that moment. You felt so damn lucky that he was yours. All yours. Little did you know he was going to make that permanent in just a few hours. Oh, how he wished time would just skip forward.

“Thank you.” He grinned running a gentle hand down your arm. He needed to touch you. To feel you. Six months was far too long without his favorite person. His rock. The one he trusted the most. The one he needed the most. You.

“Course honey.” Your smile couldn’t fall. It felt surreal that he was actually home. You’d willed this day to be here ever since he stepped onto the carrier six months ago. Finally.

“I love you.” He kissed you one more before dropping your arm.

“Love ya handsome.” You waved before wandering off into the kitchen. Jake watched as your hair bounced and your dress swayed side to side. He was so damn happy he found you.

“We’ll pick you both up at eleven tomorrow for brunch with the family?” Alice asked as you and Jake walked his parents to the door. Your parents hadn’t made it much past ten before they left. Jake’s managed to be the last ones to stay. She insisted on helping you clean up. You yawned feeling the time hit you. It was nearing one in the morning. Far past your usual bedtime. Jake must’ve been a damn zombie by now. He normally slept for days after getting off a deployment.

“Sounds good mom. We’ll be ready.” He kissed her on the cheek. After he shook his dads hand. You didn’t catch the wink he tossed his son. He knew what Jake was planning. You were still as clueless as ever standing behind him admiring the cute little family interact.

“Sleep well Y/N.”

“You too Alice, Dave.” You couldn’t stop the second yawn that overcame you as you waved to them. Jake shut the door behind them quickly. Not waiting a second before turning towards you.

A devilish smile took over his features, “Finally.” He grinned before making a bee line towards you and scooping you up into his arms, “I missed you my love.”

“Jake.” You giggled in his arms. You weren’t complaining but this was new. He was always touchy, but this was different. It was needy. You loved it. He was all yours. Yours and yours only, “What’s gotten into you honey.” You looked up to him breath catching in your throat as you caught his eye. He was giving you that look. The one that told you everything. He was bearing his soul to you.

He shrugged after shifting his gaze to the unassuming box he left on the counter. The one that housed your ring. The one he got custom made with his grandma’s and your grandma’s diamond rings. Both of your mothers went with him to help him out. He knew you were going to love it, but damn was he suddenly nervous. He knew he hadn’t a thing to worry about. You were going to yes. He couldn’t help but to be nervous though. This was it. This was him committing to you. To taking those next steps. He wanted those things with you. To buy a home and make it yours together. To have children that look like the both of you. To raise them to be even better versions of both of you. To do this life together. He was nervous. But damn was he ready.

“I missed you. I missed you so much. I missed that beautiful face. That smart ass mouth. This gentle soul. I love you my darlin’.” He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. A much gentler and more relaxed one. So much slower and thoughtful. One that showed you just how much he loved you. His heart and soul were yours for the taking.

“I love you too.” You answered him when he broke the longing kiss. He walked you over to the kitchen island sitting you down on the barstool. Your eyes were glazed over with the love that shone out of you. Even then you still hadn’t a clue. This was one of the many reasons you had come to love him so deeply.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face, “Anybody ever told you how pretty you are? Most beautiful woman in the world?” That compliment and the look he was giving you could make any woman swoon. You’d be amiss if you didn’t blush violently at that.

“You have. All the time.” It came out as a whisper. He had the ability to do that to you. Make you nervous beyond belief. Make you feel like the most special human in the world. He makes sure to treat you as his world and so much more.

His grin widened as his eyes scanned your face. Beautiful. So utterly beautiful. He found you ethereal even. Without a flaw. See, the two of you hardly even fought. If you did it was because somebody was tired or failed to communicate. Both of you learned to worth through issues with words. Something you’d never found in a partner before him. He tried. And succeeded. And then blew your expectations out of the water. People prayed for a love like yours. God were you thankful.

“It’s true sweetheart.” He pulled the box over without you knowing. Still clueless as ever. His favorite human. He palmed the small ring box underneath snaking it behind his back. His mouth began to dry up as he realized what he was actually doing. God he wanted you more than ever. His girl.

Your cheeks warmed even more if they possibly could, “You’re too sweet on me Mr. Seresin.”

He shook his head, “I’d disagree with you sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek as he took a step in closer, “I’d argue that I’m not sweet enough. Being away for so long was awful. It made me realize how much you really truly meant and mean to me. You’re everything. It’s that simple. You’re my reason to get up. You my love. My dear. My sweets. My sweetheart. My everything.” He kissed your other cheek taking a second to get the next line straight.

It felt like your heart was going to drop out of your ass. He was always so sweet to you, but this was something more. Could he possibly be doing what you’d dreamed of for far too long? You quickly shook that thought out of your head as he continued. Leaving you utterly speechless.

“I love you so much sweetheart. And I know I’m ready to take the next step with you. I want to do this life with you. Build a home with you. Start a family with you.” He kissed your forehead now.

Oh. Shit. Maybe he really was? You slid forward in the barstool now fully awake. God you’d probably pass out he if really was proposing, “You do?” Your smile about made him pass out. The most genuine look. The happiest he’s probably ever seen you. And he did that. He made you smile like that.

“I do, if that’s what you want?” He paused waiting for some confirmation.

You took that as a chance to kiss him on the lips. He was inevitably going to move there next. You felt him smile into the kiss wrapping his arms around you lightly, “You’re my best girl. My favorite human. The best thing that’s ever happened to me Y/N. Will you marry me?” He asked taking a slight step back and kneeling down holding the most beautiful right in his hand.

You could only nod due to your complete lack of being able to form any words. You pulled him up for another long kiss trying to think of anything to say, something.

“One thousand times yes.” You whispered to him once you pulled away, only because you needed oxygen.

He pulled you so you were standing on his toes. Holding you tightly to his chest knowing you were most likely weak at the knees, “Mrs. Seresin has a nice ring to it.” He gleamed cupping your chin in one hand. Gently this time he pressed his lips to yours while sliding the ring on your finger with his other hand.

Looking down at the ring you were sure your cheeks were about to rip from the smile that came across your face, “Y/N Seresin.” You giggled admiring the most stunning engagement ring. He’d done more than you could’ve ever dreamed. Your man. Your forever man now.

He sucked in a breath admiring you, “That’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

You giggled hugging him close to you, “I love you so much Jake.”

He hugged you back, never wanting to let you go, “You have no idea darlin’. I love you too.”

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[the-ace-with-spades]

Someone posted about Jake having a sister who is deaf and uses ASL (I can't find it, sorry) and it woke up the fic idea I had some time ago from hibernation

An AU where shortly after Carole's death, Bradley starts losing his hearing. At first, Mav thinks it's just a lack of focus and him being inside his head too much (which, normal given the mourning/depressive state of Bradley's emotions at the time). But then he and Ice notice it only happens when they're on his right side and start to get worried.

A visit with a family doctor and a visit with an audiologist later, and they find out his hearing loss is expected to progress, they just don't know how far — it can stay mild, it can get worse over the years, or it can get worse quickly. It's probably been happening for some time already, they might have not noticed because so much was happening (which Mav will forever feel guilty about).

Mav and Ice are left to explain all that this implies to Bradley. Mainly that Bradley will never be able to become a pilot with hearing loss, even if it stays mild. And even at thirteen, almost fourteen, all he's always wanted to be was a pilot and they have to break the news to him — even if his hearing doesn't get worse, he won't be able to join the Navy in any deployable role.

Obviously, it doesn't go well. Bradley is in denial, rebelling against anything related to the hearing loss — won't go to the SLT, to the audiologist, won't wear the hearing aids.

Until he starts high school after the summer break and realizes he can't hear the teachers well — not in the front seat, not when the classroom is silent. Turns out, the hearing aids are not enough — he needs a new set up already.

Mav takes out a sabbatical and they start everything from the beginning. New audiologist appointments, new hearing aids, new ASL lessons for the two of them, and some extra ones for Ice as well, lip reading lessons, SLT. Bradley doesn't have a choice, his hearing is getting worse and either he will adapt or his life is going to get difficult — and they're in a good enough situation, financially, and with Mav and Ice caring enough, that he can adapt as much as possible.

By the time he's in junior year, his hearing loss is severe. Their options are either sending Bradley to a boarding school for deaf kids or having him have an interpreter at school. Bradley feels strange about the boarding school so he has an interpreter for the rest of high school — which doesn't get him many friends...

College-wise, he doesn't know what to do. There's a few colleges in California that offer programs with support for deaf students, but the degrees are limited. Eventually, he decides to enroll in the Rochester NTID for aerospace/mechanical engineering and it kinda changes his perspective a lot.

There are other deaf students on campus, some even on his course, and it shows him so many different ways life can be still okay — he's never met anyone deaf his age before and being friends with people who either lost their hearing like him or were born deaf and had been involved in the Deaf community for years is amazing eye-opening. He stops being so bitter about life, even if he'll never stop feeling sad about not realizing his dreams. It teaches him to not care about what others think he is capable or not capable of doing and just do his own thing.

The Institute also has great support, also including the newest hearing aid tech. Cochlear implants only became widely available when he was finishing high school and despite many people celebrating being Deaf on campus, there's many people who also opted to have surgery or implants to help restore or conserve their hearing.

By the time Bradley gets the cochlear implants (funded mostly by Mav and Ice), he's not that set on having them, actually, not as much as he was when he was seventeen and they just came onto the market for kids. In fact, he only wears them for the purpose of work (he gets a civilian contractor job for the US Air Force of all places...) and prefers to have them off when he's at home or around people who know ASL (which is most of their family now). Being deaf is part of him, a part that is bigger and more settled than the part that used to wish he was 'normal'.

He only swaps the implants for a newer model sometime around the early 2010s because they can actually meet the FAA regulations and at the age of twenty-seven, Bradley is finally able to get his pilot license and then a commercial pilot license.

Now the hangster bit...

TG:M happens — Mav is there with the team obviously but Bradley is kinda around him because he's been contracted by the Navy the past few years (kinda like Charlie) and working with Mav in China Lake before.

Bradley shares the office with Mav and they hang around whenever Mav isn't training the Daggers — the whole group is kind of speculating on who he is — and Jake actually meets him once when he's looking for Mav and comes to the office.

He makes an ass out of himself (because this is Jake Sersin we're talking about) and basically shouts at Bradley, who is not wearing his hearing aids at the moment (he's doing paperwork, near the airfield, it's easier to focus if he doesn't hear ever single aircraft taking off) and gets super humbled when Bradley looks at him and only then clicks his very visible external processor on, and then asks him if he needed something.

After the mission, Mav and the Daggers stay close, work and outside as well (trauma bonding, even though Bradley calls them his little ducklings). This means Bradley is around them a lot, too.

Around the Daggers, Bradley wears the cochlear implants almost all the time, just for the sake of being able to be part of the conversation and having a better grip on the background noise and to know what is happening around him.

Now, this is when Jake gets a little... enamored.

Bradley is objectively cool, okay? He's deaf, but he's a commercial pilot and a stunt pilot on the side, he likes to jump out of planes (for research), he volunteers as an ASL interpreter and is certified to interpret. He's hot as well and Jake's brain overheats anytime he answers his half-flirty remarks with the same, if not bigger, force.

And Jake is a bit smitten, but Bradley never really makes a move. He's obviously contemplating making a move himself — Bradley is chill, even if it was a no, he'd not make a big deal out of it — but he's also his CO's kid and the COMPACFLT's kid and like, Jake doesn't wanna be the one to cross the line.

It's Mav who tells him — when he notices him staring at Bradley playing piano (and isn't that super cool? he's deaf and he can play piano better than anyone Jake knows) — that if he wants it, he should go for it because Bradley is too shy to make the first move, ever.

So one evening when they're at a barbecue at Mav's, Jake stays late, basically the only one left, and he is helping Bradley bring the dirty dishes into the kitchen, and Mav leaves them alone (giving him a goddamn wink as he steps out...)

The second Bradley begins with, Look, I'm flattered, he knows he's in a losing position, but tries to negotiate anyway — because he can see Bradley does like him, and for whatever reason, he just needs to point out it's enough and that he can see they have some chemistry and he promises to treat him to a good time if he gives him a chance.

So Bradley tells him how it is — he hasn't dated anyone who isn't deaf/hoh since he was nineteen and he doesn't plan to. Jake is great and he's sure they'd have great chemistry, but he's not the type to do the casual bit and he's pretty sure Jake will never make the effort he needs him to make because he doesn't understand how big part of Bradley being deaf is.

Jake denies it — so Bradley starts signing at him the alphabet (the first thing people learn when they learn ASL usually) and Jake just blinks at him dumbly, proving his point.

Obviously, Jake doesn't get it and says exactly what Bradley expected him to say, Well, I don't really need to know it, you've got the hearing aids.

And to Bradley, it proves that he's either not thinking of them as something long-term or that he just doesn't get what Bradley being deaf means, long-term, for his life. You realize I don't wear them all the time, right? Not at home, not around family, not around most of my friends. Wearing them constantly is exhausting. What will you do when I take them off? Or do you just expect me to never take them off?

Jake goes home and that's it, really.

It's sometime later, a few weeks or a couple of months. Jake's never brought up going on a date again and Bradley made peace with that — he was right and Jake either didn't want to commit or the effort was too big and he's no longer interested in him. Shame, but it's not the first time it happened — mainly why Bradley doesn't date people outside the deaf/hoh community anymore, they don't understand, he's cured or acceptable kind of deaf to them, because of the implants but when they come off — he's deficient.

The Daggers are sitting down with Mav when Bradley comes home and they're in the middle of a conversation and Bradley doesn't want to interrupt Bob so he just asks Mav via signing if he ate dinner already. Before Mav answers, Jake says out loud, We ordered in, leftovers are in the fridge.

And fair enough, Bradley goes to the kitchen and he's unpacking gyro from the plastic container when it hits him — Jake just understood his signing. And like, what the hell.

He doesn't want to make a scene so he waits until Jake is a little bit more alone (not really possible with their group).

When Jake notices him staring, he just goes, Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?

And Bradley feels a bit stupid, but he signs the same thing he asked Mav before and waits for some kind of answer and Jake just says, Shit, and gets all red in the face.

So Bradley just starts signing. How long, why didn't tell me, what the hell, and all that. Because why didn't Jake told him he could understand, that he knows ASL?

And Jake just stares at him. You're going way too fast, I'm not that good at it yet

And Bradley stops and stares at him dumbly. Yet?

Sheepishly, Jake's face gets even redder, and he's avoiding Bradley's gaze as he says, I was gonna tell you once I can actually communicate and not just know a few words and phrases.

You know it's going to take months, right? I took me months and I was learning for hours every day and practicing with my dad all the time.

Well, I assumed you meant I need to know it if I want to take you out so, y'know...

And Bradley just looks at this dumb dumb man and just maybe falls in love a little bit. You don't need to be fluent in a whole new language to date me, just acknowledging you'll have to at least try is enough.

It's actually more than enough. Maybe Bradley is a bit fond of Jake, sue him, but it's more than enough to give him a chance.

Oh, is all Jake says, okay then.

And Jake clears his throat, steps a little bit away and takes a minute to revise in his head, and then signs,

DATE-YOU-WANT-GO-WITH-ME

It's a little clumsy and a bit slow, but Bradley takes his time to slow down and just signs YES in reply

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch6

Alright shits about to go down so hold onto your butts! Also hoping you all are enjoying these two as much as I do. I feel like this chapter is rushed IDK. @smoothdogsgirl WARNINGS: Minor Character Death, Military inaccuracies and Mentions of nudity

When you woke the next morning Jake was still asleep on your chest. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up so you watched him until you fell back asleep. Jake woke a couple hours later and listened to you breathing. He eventually got up and ordered breakfast to be delivered. When it arrived Jake got everything sat out on the kitchen table. Jake walked back to the bedroom and leaned against the doorway taking in the way the sun graced your face.

He didn’t want to wake you, but he also didn’t want the food to be cold. “(Y/N) darlin’ food is in the kitchen”, he drawled. You woke slowly blinking up at him then smiled before pulling him down for a kiss. “I’ll be there in just a moment”, you replied. He grinned and headed back to the kitchen. You went to the bathroom to relieve your protesting bladder. When you finally made it to the kitchen Jake was chewing on some bacon. 

You walked over and sat in his lap as his shoulders started moving with a laugh. “You know I have chairs”, he says. “Yeah but your lap is more comfortable”, you giggle. You both enjoy breakfast and every once in a while feed each other something to try. You had to admit you never thought a guy could be so gentle and tender. “What are we gonna’ do today babe?”, you asked. “Up to you I don’t mind as long as I can spend the day with you”, Jake whispers into your ear.

You laugh but try to think of things you both could do. “How about we go sightseeing then go to a club downtown tonight”, you suggest. “Sounds like fun”, he replies. You sneak back to Bradleys apartment grabbing some clothes and heading back to Jake’s apartment. “I’m going to shower real quick”, you explain. He nods as you get into the shower and wash your hair then lather yourself with soap. 

You hear the bathroom door open and the curtain pulls back allowing Jake to step in with you. “Figured we could save water and shower together”, he tells you. There is nothing sexual about it and it’s a relaxing shower as you both wash the night off. When you both get out and dry off you head back to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. Jake gets the truck started as you take a moment to get your phone and wallet from the nightstand. As he drives you grab his open hand as the radio plays a Garth Brooks song.

“That’s something I would like to do again”, you say. “What’s that?”, he asks. “Going to a rodeo. I used to run barrels when I was younger, but when I went off to college all that changed”, you explain. “Tell ya’ what if you ever come with me back to Texas I’ll take you to a rodeo”, he says. “I would love to” you respond. The rest of the day is filled with going to historic landmarks and Jake taking you by the base as you both watch Jets take off. 

Lunch came and went as you ate on the tailgate watching the beach scene. Then you both decided to go back to the apartment to get changed into something more club appropriate. You change into a beautiful black strapless dress that Nat had also insisted on you getting the last time you went shopping. It showed off your curves, you styled your hair and put on some lip gloss. You had to admit Nat was right, you looked damn good and you couldn’t wait to go out.

Jake was still in his jeans but the t-shirt seemed a size small and he paired it with a black leather jacket with his all too familiar aviator sunglasses. If you weren’t going to the club you would jump him right now. Jake looked you up and down whistling as you blushed like mad. “Darlin that dress is killin’ me”, he tells you. “Well let’s go before we change our minds”, you laugh. With that you both get back into the truck and head downtown to a local club.

It’s not very busy which is nice and leaves plenty of space on the dance floor. “What do you want to drink sweetheart?”, Jake questions. “I’ll take a rum n’ coke”, you reply. He goes up to the bar to order your drinks and you look around taking in your surroundings. You look at the crowd on the dance floor and across the floor you swear you see your ex, but before you can get a good look Jake comes back with your drink.

“What’s wrong?”, Jake asks. “I thought I saw someone I recognized, but I must be mistaken”, you reply. You sip at your drink as Jake drinks his beer and once finished with your drinks head out to the dance floor. It does surprise you that Jake can dance and you enjoy every moment of it. You take in his smile, the way he makes you feel and how carefree he is. You do this with a little nagging in your brain saying this could be the last time you see him like this and it makes your stomach feel uneasy.

You push that thought out of your head and get closer to him. At some point you turn around as Jake’s hands find your hips and pull you back to him. He kisses your neck as your fingers find the back of his neck as you both continue to sway with the music. You spend the evening like this and end up leaving the club around nine since he has to be up early. On the way back to his apartment he hands you a key. 

“What’s this for?”, you ask. “It’s the spare key to my apartment. That way you can come over whenever you want even if I’m gone”, he tells you. “Thank you”, you say. He has no idea how much it means to you, but you intend to show him. When you get back to the apartment Bradley is parking at the same time. When you get out Bradley bristles like a feral cat seeing another cat in his territory. “So what’s going on between you two?”, he asks. “Well I took my girlfriend out before we ship out tomorrow”, Jake says, but you can see the dig he is trying to get in at Bradley.

“Girlfriend?! (Y/N) please tell me he’s joking”, Bradley exclaims. “He asked me last night and I said yes Bradley. Don’t act like it’s such a big deal”, you huff. “So he asks you right before we go on a mission he may not come back from”, Bradley argues. “Bradley, I know the risks of dating an aviator. I think you forget that you weren’t the only one to lose a father to flying”, you seeth. Bradley seems to deflate at that, but you hug him even though he is being a jerk.

“I want you both to watch out for each other while you're out there”, you say to both men. “I can do that, but only for you”, Bradley says. “Anything for you darlin’ “, Jake responds. After that little agreement you take Jake’s hand and make your way into his apartment. You both get ready for bed and you automatically cling to Jake’s side. “I didn’t know your father was a pilot”, Jake murmurs as he strokes your head. 

“Yeah we traveled from base to base back east, but ended up settling at the naval base in Virginia”, you reply. “If it’s too much I understand, but how did you lose him?”, Jake asked. “He was away on a mission. They ran into enemy fighters and my dad chose to sacrifice his life for his friend. For the longest time I hated his friend because I didn’t understand at the time, but when I got a little older I found out that he had just gotten married and was expecting his first child. Then I understood why my dad did what he did”, you replied.

Jake felt a tear hit his chest and he pulled you onto him to kiss you. He gently wiped away those tears as he continued to kiss you. “Your dad sounded like a brave man”, he told you. “Yeah he was, but please don’t let the rivalry between you and Rooster come between you all when you're in the air”, you begged. “I swear to you we are a team when we’re up there. I don’t want to lose any of my team even if they can be a pain in the ass”, he jokes. It reaffirms what you thought before that Jake puts on the front he doesn’t care, but in reality he cares a great deal.

That gets a small laugh out of you and you go back to being tucked into his side with your head resting over his heart. The rhythm lulls you into sleep for the night as Jake takes a little longer to fall asleep. He thinks about it and he has never really had a reason to come back from a mission, but now even with this whirlwind romance as his sister would call it he did. It takes a little while longer, but hearing you breath and feeling you there helps him to fall into a deep sleep. 

When the alarm goes off in the morning you groan, but Jake is already getting out of bed to get ready. You eventually get up as he goes straight for the shower. You join him and share several kisses while you both get ready for his departure. “You want to drop me off and pick me up when I get back?”, he asks. “Yeah I can do that”, you say, going to get your keys. When you get down to the parking lot you realize Bradley was already gone. You drive him where he directs you to go to drop him off. 

He got out to grab his stuff and turned to you as you pulled him in for the longest kiss you had ever had. When you went to pull away he chased your lips for a couple more. Jake could see your eyes were shining with unshed tears, but he had to go or he would be in big trouble. “I’ll see you when I get back darlin’. Wait for me?”, he asked. “I’ll wait as long as I have to”, you replied. He gave a two finger salute and walked away as you finally let the tears fall from your eyes. You watched him until he was out of sight then got back in your truck to drive back to the apartment. 

It didn’t feel right to go back to Jake’s apartment when he wasn’t there so you went to Bradleys. It felt so different with Bradley gone to. You had to work tonight so you got an outfit ready and waited until it was time to go in. The rest of the week was much of the same of going to work, coming home using the day to clean, rinse and repeat. Friday was the hardest because everytime you looked at the pool table it was empty of the people you had come to care about. 

You were scrolling through social media when a video popped up about sending your significant other a raunchy photo and seeing their replies. That got you thinking so you decided to hatch a plan. Getting your phone set up perfectly you changed into a new red two piece lingerie set you had bought and took several pictures in different poses. You ended up picking the picture of yourself posed on your knees looking up into the camera, but the angle had a clear view of the whole outfit. 

You looked so innocent and you knew that it would have Jake chomping at the bit to be there. After you grabbed some paper and a pen you wrote a quick letter and put it in the envelope. Next stop was to get the picture printed. You had never been so nervous to print your own photos at a self service kiosk. Afraid that someone would see as you tried to print it as fast as possible. Once printed you bought some stamps and mailed it to the address that Jake had given you.

He had told you he would be gone for at least a month so it was going to have to do until he could come see you in person. Two weeks went by faster than you expected and coming home one night from your shift at the Hard Deck you noticed Bradley’s apartment door standing open. When you looked it was clear that someone had broken in and you immediately called the police. They checked over everything then had you go in to confirm if anything was missing. 

The only thing you found that was missing was a couple pairs of underwear and bras. The police told you they would patrol the area, but it may be best for you to stay somewhere until the door was fixed. You ended up deciding to stay in Jake’s apartment, but it didn’t ease the fear that whoever had broken in and stole your things wasn’t still out there watching and waiting. 

When you told Penny she made sure that you always texted her when you made it back to the apartment. You couldn’t wait for Jake and Bradley to be home because at least them being here would help you feel safer. You only had a couple more weeks to go, but you sent a letter to Bradley to let him know what had happened and that the door had been replaced. You hoped they were doing okay and that they were safe.

The next week went by pretty much the same and you had been taking care of both apartments although you had been sleeping in Jake’s bed. It smelled like him and it helped to relax you after all that had happened. You even did Jake and Bradley’s clothes that had been in the hampers. Folding them and putting them in their respective drawers. You then did a deep clean of both apartments that weekend.

Jake sat down across from Rooster as someone came in yelling mail. Jake didn’t expect anything as Bradley was handed an envelope. To his surprise his name was called and an envelope placed in his hand. He would recognize (Y/N)’s writing anywhere as he stared at the envelope. “What the fuck!”, Rooster cursed. “What?”, Jake asked. “(Y/N)’s letter said someone broke into my apartment and that my door had to be replaced, she said she wasn’t home when it happened”, Rooster relayed. Jake didn’t like that one bit and opened his letter as something fluttered to the floor.

“Shit”, he cursed. He bent down and picked it up realizing it was wrapped in a small self made envelope. He decided to read the letter first, 

“Dear Jake,

I hope you and Bradley are safe out there and return soon. Penny has given me some extra hours to keep me busy, but it only helps a little. I sent a little something in a handmade envelope that I hope you love because it took me several times to get the right look. When you get back maybe you can see it for yourself. Can’t wait until you're back home!

Your Girl,

                                                                                                               (Y/N)

P.S. I HAVE OTHER COLORS WAITING FOR YOU ;)

Jake opened the small handmade envelope and realized it was a photo. When he pulled it out his body was hot and his brain went into overdrive. There you were on your knees looking up innocently and in a red two piece lingerie set. Damn you were trying to kill him before he even made it back home to you. He quickly put the photo into his pocket on his shirt to keep anyone from seeing it. He couldn’t wait to get back home to you, but when he made it back to his room he wrote a letter back.

Penny was calling your name as you read the letter for the hundredth time. He had stated that everyone was doing okay and that he was tired as hell. He also made it known that he couldn’t wait to see you and the lingerie set in person. “(Y/N) are you okay?”, Penny asked. “Oh yeah. I’m sorry that I have been distracted”, you reply. “It’s okay I get it I still get that way when Pete is out there”, she tells you. “Do you think you can close tonight? I have to go pick up Amelia”, she says. 

“Yeah I can close tonight”, you respond. You continue to work until closing as one of the bartenders asks if you’ll be okay by yourself. You told her you would be fine and started taking inventory. You played some music on the jukebox as you swept and mopped. The bartenders had cleaned their stations so you just had to wipe down the bar tops and tables. The whole time it felt like you were being watched, but you shook it off and finished up. 

You kept feeling like you were being watched as you got into your truck. You made it to the apartments and went into Jake’s apartment still not feeling safe in Bradley’s. You showered and got ready for bed making a late night snack. When you climbed into the bed you noticed that Jake’s scent was starting to fade. You grabbed his pillow that still smelled like his shampoo and hugged it to your chest as you tried to sleep not knowing that Jake and Rooster were about to experience something they hadn’t before.

“Keep up speed we should make it out of enemy airspace without being detected”, Rooster called over the radio. “Dagger squad you have two bogies approaching your position”, overwatch relayed. “Rooster, we have to pick up the pace”, Jake told him. “Alright hold on guys, we’re gonna’ turn and burn”, Rooster replied. They increased speed but the wingman following Jake panicked. “Guys you're going too fast we can’t keep up”, Banshee said. “You’re gonna have too, those bogies are going to intercept us if we don’t”, Rooster called back. Jake knew this was bad, but they had already destroyed the target and were almost home free.

The open ocean a couple miles from the carrier. “Holy fuck I’m hit I’m hit!”, Banshee yelled as his WSO Fluke was panicking as well as calling out all the failures. “I’m coming back Banshee! Just hang in there!”, Jake yelled. “Hangman, I'm coming. Phoenix continue to the carrier”, Rooster ordered. They both intercepted the bogies as Rooster was able to shoot one with a missile. “Shit he has a lock on me!”, Banshee yelled. “Smoke in the air! SMOKE IN THE AIR”, Fluke screamed. “DEPLOY FLARES”, Banshee yelled.

“I CAN’T THEY AREN’T WORKING”, Fluke yelled back. Jake opened fire trying to hit the missile, but missed by a hair as Rooster had tone and fired a missile at the bogie. The bogie deployed flares as Banshee and Fluke yelled out one last time as their jet exploded. “NOOO”, Jake screamed. “HANGMAN I COULD USE SOME HELP”, Rooster screamed through the headset. Rooster was using evasive maneuvers and had just deployed flares to avoid the missile. 

“HANGMAN WHERE ARE YOU?!”, Rooster screamed. “I’VE GOT YOU” Jake yelled as he fired a missile. The bogie deployed flares as he turned to go after Jake. “SHIT ROOSTER BOGIE IS ON MY SIX”, Jake informed. Jake had deployed all his flares by the time Rooster was on top of the bogie. “I NEED YOU TO HOLD STEADY SO I CAN TAKE THIS GUY OUT”, Rooster called out. “ARE YOU CRAZY!”, Jake responded. Jake looked down at the photo he had placed in his cockpit.

It was the one of you in your sundress on the beach staring out into the ocean smiling. If he was going to die he wanted to go looking at your photo. Rooster fired and the bogie couldn’t evade in time as the missile made contact. “SPLASH BOGIE! SPLASH BOGIE!” Rooster confirmed. Jake let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and headed back to the carrier with Rooster. When they landed they were immediately debriefed and let go to get some rest. 

Jake, Rooster, Phoenix and Bob sat there knowing that it could have easily been Payback and Fanboy had they not gotten injured. Hell it could have been any of them. It was somber as they all went to their rooms. Jake shared one with Rooster as he climbed into his bunk. He pulled out the photo he had in the cockpit and broke down as he realized he could have died today. He didn’t cry because of his near death today, but the fact that if he had died you would have been devastated. 

You just felt heavy as you willed yourself to go back to sleep. Jake and the others should be back soon and you couldn’t wait to be able to hold Jake again. You grabbed Jake’s pillow again and curled around it. You were wearing one of his t-shirts and it was just as soothing as holding onto his pillow. “Jake come home please”, you whispered. Sleep consumed you within minutes as you dreamed about him coming home.