#bradley bradshaw x jake!best friend

[bradshawed]

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

summary — Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw certainly has something someone to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

warnings/tags — mild swearing, some suggestive content, female reader, use of she/her, Bradley missing his parents, switching between 2nd and 3rd person but you get both povs? Bradley being absolutely speechless and momma Seresin being an icon but that isn’t really warning.

note — wanted to write something for a while and I had this idea in my drafts and figured why not. I haven’t written for tg:m before so I hope I did them justice and you guys like it enough to read some more.

word count — 1.2k words

Texas hadn’t exactly been a planned trip but here they all were at the Seresin ranch in Austin, Texas.

You could say that it had been the Daggers’ fault for unintentionally parading in on one of Jake’s phone calls to his mum but they’d all claim that it was a combination of Jake bragging about his home town and Bradley retelling his sob story to Jake’s mother, who she insisted he call her by her first name, and then invited them all to the Seresin ranch for Thanksgiving.

They’d managed to get a couple days leave and decided to forgo the 15 hour drive down and take a flight there instead, choosing to get there in one piece with as few arguments as possible than the ones they would’ve had if they’d chosen to go with the road trip option.

When they’d arrived at the airport, Jake’s oldest sister and her husband picked them up in two cars and drove them down to the ranch. Bradley could easily see why Jake had been right to brag about his home, not that he would ever tell him, but it really did feel like home.

The Dagger squad talked for hours that night, finding themselves huddled together on the front porch, staring at the stars. It had been a beautiful night, filled with laughter and mischief, but also with something warm and comforting that made Bradley’s heart ache.

He’d been unusually quiet that night but the group knew better than to push it, Jake included with a threat from his mother, but it hadn’t been from what they’d expected. Jake’s mum had brought Bradley aside when they were all busy with the rest of the family and had a talk with him, one filled with a motherly love that accepted him into the family and promises that he could come by anytime or call her up whenever he’d like. The comforting hug after, as she reached up to wipe his tears, made him smile as he whispered up to the stars later that night, a thank you to his mum and dad.

The next day had been filled with the typical Seresin chaos that you’d expect with a single mother, three daughters, their partners and children, and the one and only, Jacob Thomas Seresin. Plus the Dagger Squad. Then someone mentioned line dancing and Jake’s elusive childhood best friend (Javy was extremely offended) and they’d subsequently made plans that night to visit the local bar that Jake promised they’d all love.

Never, and Bradley means never, let Hangman choose your outfit. That boy is picky as hell and a force to be reckoned with once he’s connected to his Southern routes. Shame that Bradley’s much more stubborn or you would’ve seen him decked out in a similar outfit to Jake’s right down to the bolo tie.

“Jacob Thomas Seresin!” Heads turned towards the woman walking towards them, an empty serving tray in one hand, the other resting on her hip as she looked up at the blonde raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to give me a heads up before you walked into my bar?” She leaned behind him to place the tray on the bar before resuming her stance, cracking a smile once Hangman did and wrapping him in a warm hug.

Introductions were made with Jake using your full name, which you hit him lightly on the arm for, Bradley practically speechless, almost drooling, since you first walked towards them.

He was cute, fucking gorgeous if you were being honest, and if he was the Bradley you’d heard so much about from Jake and his mother, then the idea that just sparked in your mind would be more than just a good idea. So, you took your Setson off your head and placed it on his with a wink.

Sadly, you still had a job to do, and with the blooming bar, you needed all hands on deck, so you walked off, not without a mischievous glint in your eye or an extra sway of your hips for the brunette in the floral Hawaiian shirt who had caught your eye. You turned around for a brief second to see Bradley transfixed and Jake shaking his head at you, as you gave your best friend a wink and sauntered off.

The Dagger squad, minus Bob and Javy, looked between Jake and the hat on Bradley’s head in confusion, the former shaking his head with a smile on his face. Jake wasn’t the least bit surprised, he knew you down to a T, just as you knew him. Bob and Javy on the other hand tried and failed to suppress their laughter, especially as Bob launched into an explanation at what it meant seeing as Jake was clearly too amused and entertained to do it himself.

Bradley, well… Bradley had short circuited to say the least. He could barely register the pats on his back or squad’s laughter under the weight of the cowboy hat on his head, your hat on his head. Fuck, he was whipped and he didn’t even know you. Not yet.

The crowd had begun to filter out the later it got, and by the time you got off your shift, the bar definitely wasn’t bursting at the seams anymore but still somehow just as lively. As you contemplated grabbing yourself a beer, you felt a presence behind you, causing you to turn around to see the cute brunette wearing your hat. His palm was placed gently, face up towards you as he asked you for a dance, not forgetting to add a ‘sweetheart’ at the end.

Bradley can dance, he knows that, the whole squad knows that, anyone who knows him knows that. But the way your body feels next to his has him forgetting the steps he learned just moments ago. Or at least, that was until you leaned up at starting singing along to the lyrics in his ear, gently guiding him along, something that he’d expected to cause him to stumble even more but surprisingly got him to relax. Bradley Bradshaw was putty in your hands and you knew it. You however, didn’t know that you’d be melting in his, not until he began singing back to you, his lips just grazing your ear. That’s when it turned into a little more than dancing, with a little less talking.

With you body pressed against his, his arms pulling you impossibly closer as you adjust your Stetson on his head, you whisper a question in his ear. Bradley placed a kiss to your collarbone and another beneath your ear before pulling away and grabbing your hand, leading you to the exit.

The squad burst into cheers as you both approached the door, the pair of you hazarding a glance back at the group and a wink towards Jake who raised his glass in acknowledgment with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for each other, not that he’d ever admit that, but he knew. For now, he refused to acknowledge what would happen when you both left the bar, nose crinkling at the reminder of the rule.

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 6

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mention of doctors and illness, fighting, hospitals, OBGYN scene

WC: 3.4K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

By the time you were nine, you had met so many “friends” of your mother’s that you stopped listening to their names, if they even bothered to acknowledge you at all. Somehow they all showed up in various stages of dress in the kitchen when you were eating your breakfast before school. There were the ones that wore only tattered boxers and wife beater tanks. There was the one who actually stole the toast you were making on his way out the door. There was the one who sat down with you and did the crossword and asked how old you were and what your name was, only to never be seen again. 

Mostly, they were simply ghosts. There for a moment, gone the next. That was how your mother liked them. Practically useless and only for one night.

You told yourself that you wouldn’t turn out like her. You studied and you left that tiny slice of hell in Appalachia and you never looked back. You went to college. You met Bob. You got a job. You traveled anywhere and everywhere they would send you at the drop of a hat.  

And yet, somehow you had turned out just like her. You might be sitting in a bedroom in San Diego near the beach. But a thousand miles away, in a house with a cracked roof, your mother was sitting in a room not too dissimilar from the one you were in, fighting the same demons.

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t live the way she did. That you wouldn’t sabotage any chance of happiness because you were too scared to keep someone around long enough for them to realize you had nothing to offer except your body. 

***

You weren’t sure where to go. 

You had given up your Brooklyn apartment. Going home wasn’t an option. You hadn’t been back there in more than five years. 

Usually, when you weren’t sure where to go, the first thing you did was call Bob. 

That was no longer an option. 

He left two days after the fight for a three week mission. The two of you stood in the foyer, looking at each other. You had only been there for one deployment, early in his career. You remember sitting on the steps of Bob’s Newport apartment and crying so hard when he left that someone shouted at you from an upstairs window to shut up. 

Bob was wearing his green flight suit, his bags packed into his truck. He had on a pair of aviator sunglasses, so you couldn’t see his familiar blue eyes. But even without being able to see his eyes, you knew what he was thinking. With Bob, you always knew. 

“I’ll see you when I get back,” Bob said quietly, one hand on the door handle. 

You looked at him. “I won’t be here.” 

“Honey,” he whispered softly. “Please, let’s not be like this.” 

“Be safe,” you said, stepping forward, pressing your lips to his soft, familiar cheek. Bob’s hand found your waist naturally, fingers tightening, continuing to hold you even when you pulled back. 

“Always,” he murmured. 

You took a step back, Bob’s hand falling from your waist down to his side. 

He looked at you, dejected. “I love you, Reid. I’ll talk to you soon, OK?” 

You nodded. “You should get going. Or else the boat might leave without you.” 

Bob pulled open the door, giving you one last look, before heading out down the steps toward his truck. 

You pressed the door shut, sliding down against the wood, your butt slamming down onto the floor. You couldn’t bear to watch him drive away. 

***

“It’s a good thing you’re getting this checked out,” the doctor said, rolling on her stool to the shelf on her right, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Always better to be safe.” 

You laid back on the exam table, bare legs shaky in the stirrups. 

“Can you scoot down for me please?” she asked and you wiggled down toward the end of the table, feeling the thin waxy paper beneath you tugging, threatening to rip. “Perfect.” 

You stopped, feeling the air hit your exposed center. 

“Going to feel a pinch,” she said and you closed your eyes, feeling the metal of the speculum as it spread you open. You cursed whoever invented it in your head silently. You had always thought it looked like some kind of demonic shoe stretcher. 

For a few moments, the room was silent. And then there was blinding, searing pain as she punched a hole in your literal cervix. You gasped.

“OK, you can sit up,” she said. “I’m going to send this off to pathology. I’ll give you a call when the test results come in.” The doctor leaned forward, putting her hand on yours. Somehow in between cutting out a piece of your internal flesh and bagging it for the lab she had managed to peel off her soiled gloves. “Do your best not to worry, OK? Not until we get the results. Most of the time, symptoms like this are nothing to be concerned about.” 

You nodded and she left the room, leaving you to dig your panties out from the pile of clothing on the chair. 

A week later, your phone rang. You were sitting at a cafe in Dumbo when Mount Sinai’s contact flashed on the small screen. 

You lifted the phone to your ear. “Hello?” 

“Ms. Coleman?” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “The doctor was hoping you could come in today to discuss the results of your biopsy.” 

You frowned. “Today? Is that bad?” 

There was another pause. “We’re open until six. It’s important that you come today.” 

You agreed, ending the call with a shaky hand and putting the phone face-down on the wooden table. 

The first thing that popped into your head was how devastated Bob was going to be when you told him. 

***

The house was quiet. Bradley called three times. Once when they first got to the location, which he couldn’t tell you about. A second time at the end of the first week. A third time in the middle of the second week. Each time, he gave you a verbal update on how Bob was doing. 

Each time, you left the call feeling worse. 

Your things were packed. You had a lead from a former colleague on a beach house in Santa Barbara. One thing about moving to San Diego was it had reminded you of how much you liked California. 

You had just gotten home from pilates, wearing a cropped sports bra and a pair of matching biker shorts when your phone rang. You dug around in your purse that sat slumped on the countertop. 

“Shit, shit,” you muttered, digging in the endless depths of the bag. “Finally.” You pulled it out and swiped right without looking at the caller ID. 

“Hello?” 

“Reid?” It was Bradley. 

“Hey,” you said, leaning down and putting it on speaker phone as you unloaded the bag of groceries on the counter. “How’s it going?” 

“Reid, honey, there’s been an accident.” 

You froze. The blood rushing through your veins stopped. Your fingers dug into the countertop, keeping you standing. 

“Reid, are you there?” 

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “I’m here.” 

“We’re at the hospital on base,” Bradley said quietly. “You should come.” 

A tear slid down your cheek. “Can I talk to him?” 

“I’ll explain when you get here,” Bradley replied. 

“Is he OK?” 

There was a pause. You could hear commotion in the background. “Reid?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Come now.” 

You burst through the hospital doors. Everywhere you turned, there were people in Navy uniforms. Doctors in scrubs. Nurses with frowns on their faces. You felt like your lungs were on fire. You weren’t sure where you had parked, or if you had run every red light between Bob’s house and the hospital and you were only vaguely aware that you had forgotten to put on a sweater so you were running across the linoleum floor in a pair of Hokas and a tiny blue sports bra. 

“How can I help you?” A nurse looked up at you from where she sat at a curved desk. 

“Lieutenant Robert Floyd.” The words spilled out of your mouth in an avalanche. 

“Relation?” 

What were you to Bob? Best friend? Roommate? Family? The girl whose bed he sometimes slept in? You grimaced. “I’m his emergency contact.” 

The nurse nodded, clicking her mouse. “Lieutenant Floyd was brought in an hour ago. He’s in critical care.” She looked up. “You can wait in the waiting room at the end of the hall.” 

“Is he, is he OK?” you asked, voice shaking. 

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, the doctor will have to walk you through Lieutenant Floyd’s injuries, ma’am. Just take a seat. Someone will be out shortly to update you.” 

She pointed down the hall toward a room that was encased in glass walls. You floated down the hallway, opening the door and struggling with its weight. 

A tanned arm pulled it open and you looked up. 

Bradley. 

You were in his arms in an instant. The familiar pink peppercorn smell, mixed with jet fuel, flooding your nose. He was everywhere, all at once. But you still felt empty, even in his embrace. 

He pulled back, his handsome face drawn and tired. 

“Come here,” he whispered, steering you by the shoulders to a nearby chair. You watched as five pairs of eyes landed on you. Phoenix. Hangman. Fanboy. Payback. And an unfamiliar aviator. He was older than the rest, and shorter. But he had an air of importance around him. Wisdom. “This is Mav,” Bradley said, watching your eyes as you fixated on the additional person in the group. “He’s our team leader.” 

“And Rooster’s uncle,” Fanboy chipped in. 

“I didn’t know you had an uncle,” you murmured. 

Bradley gave you a thin smile. “Lots we still don’t know about each other sweetheart. That’s OK.” 

“Have you seen him?” you asked, craning your neck around, looking at the room. It was just the seven of you in a corner. 

They shook their heads. Phoenix laid one hand on your knee. “Reid. He’s going to get through this.” 

“I didn’t say it,” you whispered. “I was mad, so I didn’t say it.” 

“Say what?” 

“He said he loved me before he left. We always say I love you before he leaves.” A tear tumbled down your cheek. “And this time, I was mad. I was trying to prove a point. So when he said it, I didn’t say it back.” You put your head in your hands. “What if I don’t get the chance to tell him?” 

Phoenix squeezed your knee. “You’ll get the chance.” 

“Family of Lieutenant Robert Floyd?”

Seven pairs of eyes turned to the doctor standing in the doorway. You stood up, Bradley hovering next to you like you were about to fall. “Yes.” Your voice was thin, weak. 

The doctor nodded. “Come this way ma’am.” 

You looked around. 

“Do you want us to come with you?” Jake asked quietly. 

You shook your head. “No, um, I think I need to go alone.” 

Bradley squeezed your bare arm. “We’ll be right here, OK?” 

You nodded, following the doctor out of the room and into the hallway. The doctor led you down a winding hallway, the flickering overhead lights adding to the surrealism that you felt in that moment. 

He paused outside of a closed door. “Lieutenant Floyd sustained a brain injury from the accident,” he said. You gasped. “We won’t know the extent until he wakes up.” 

“So he’s in a coma?” you asked. 

The doctor nodded. “He has a broken leg, he came in with a collapsed lung, and he’s currently in a coma.” 

“Oh, my God,” you whispered. 

He turned the handle to the door. “I’ll leave you with him.” 

Inside the room was dim. You stepped forward. Bob laid on the hospital bed in the middle of the room. He looked small. He was so tall, and you always saw him as so strong. But there, in the bed, he looked feeble. 

He looked the way you felt inside. 

His glasses sat perched on the rolling table next to the window. You picked them up. There was a small crack on one of the lenses. 

The room was quiet, save for the machines. This time there was no intubation, just a tangle of IVs and a heart monitor. You sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing your hand over his hair softly, running your finger down his cheek. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I was holding out because I was mad, and that was wrong of me. I don’t know if you know this, Bobby, but I’m kind of a bitch.” 

No response. You hadn’t expected one, but the reality that he was there, but he also wasn’t, was difficult to wrap your head around. 

You kicked off your shoes, and gently eased onto the bed, curling yourself around Bob’s side, careful to make sure that all of the IV wires were on the opposite side. You slung one arm across his abdomen, resting your head on his upper arm. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen,” you whispered. “You’re the one who sticks around, Bobby. You’re the dependable one, remember? I need you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, tears spilling out, soaking the coarse white cotton sheets between your body and Bob’s. “I fucking need you, honey. Now more than ever.” 

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you heard voices whispering around you. You opened your eyes in a small sliver. Jake, Phoenix and Bradley stood near the doorway in a huddle, whispering in hushed tones. 

“We can’t let her stay here like that,” Phoenix said. “She’s gotta go home. Shower. Eat. It’s not healthy.” 

“Just leave her be,” Jake said and both aviators turned to him in surprise. “What? I’m a nice person. Besides, what harm could it do to leave her another hour? Doctor said he could wake up any minute. How do you think he would feel if he wakes up and she’s not here?” 

“Seresin is right.” This time, Phoenix turned to Bradley in shock. “Floyd would tear this entire place apart if he woke up and she wasn’t next to him. I’ll go to their house and get her some stuff. Change of clothes. Something to eat. I’m sure the nurses will get a cot or something.” 

“His glasses.” 

The three of them turned. You had your eyes open, but they were focused on nothing. Just staring, blankly, at the wall. 

“He needs his spare glasses. He keeps them in the top drawer of his bathroom. Green case.” 

Bradley stepped closer, approaching the side of the bed. He reached out with one hand, touching your shoulder, and you moved away on instinct, crawling closer to Bob, practically laying yourself on top of him. 

Bradley retreated. 

“OK, honey. I’ll get his glasses.” 

“And a book,” you whispered. “Whatever is on his nightstand.” 

Bradley nodded. “What can I get you?” 

You closed your eyes. “I don’t want anything.” 

“Reid—”

“No,” you snapped. “Just leave. Please. I want to be alone with Bobby.” 

You heard footsteps and the door closing and you opened your eyes, expecting peace. But Jake Seresin sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed, one ankle crossed over the other knee. 

You rolled your eyes. “Leave, Hangman.” 

“He’s my friend, too,” Jake said. 

“You pick on him. He told me.” 

Jake nodded. “Yeah. And I’m sorry about that. Just like I know you’re sorry about the fact that you two were fighting before we left.” 

You sat up. “How did you know about that?” 

“Floyd over here told me.” 

“Why would he tell you that?” 

“Because we’re friends,” Jake said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” 

You looked down at Bob, brushing your fingers over his forearm, slipping your fingers into his. “Does he hate me?” 

“He couldn’t hate you if he tried.” 

A salty stream of tears started to fall and you didn’t even bother to try and stop them. “I hate myself right now.” 

“That’s not what he wanted.” 

You blinked before raising your eyes to Jake. For the first time, he looked genuine. Like he truly, actually cared about the conversation the two of you were having. 

“He wanted to take it back.” 

“Take what back?” 

“Telling you to leave.” 

You shook your head. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.” Jake smiled. “Does that seem like something I would do?” 

You looked at him, and despite everything, found yourself smiling along. “No, I guess not.” 

Jake stood up. “He’s going to be OK.” He approached the bed, and to your surprise, patted Bob’s unresponsive shoulder in a familiar, friendly way. “See you later, Floyd. Don’t make your girl here wait too long for you to wake up.” He smiled down at you and then he was gone, slipping out the door into the hallway and it was just you and Bob in the stillness of the hospital room, the quiet hum of machines, the sterile smell in the air. 

You laid back down, head on the pillow near Bob’s, fingers trailing softly across his arm and chest. “I miss the way things used to be,” you whispered to him. “It was so much more simple when it was just you and me. Back in college. Before you left for the Navy.” You sighed, tracing your fingers up through his hair. “Before I fucked everything up.” 

It was quiet. Too quiet. You missed the soft way that Bob snored in his sleep. You missed the way he hummed along as you were talking, small reassurances. You missed his goofy, crooked smile. You missed the way he held your hand sometimes when you drove long distances together, content in the silence. 

You missed him, even though he was right beneath your fingertips. 

***

Jake stepped into the elevator, pushing his hands into his pockets. It had been a day and a half since Bob was admitted. Everyone had gone home at some point except for you. Last time Jake checked, you were asleep on the cot that a nurse had rolled into Bob’s room. 

He wasn’t paying attention, so when the elevator doors opened, Jake stepped forward, only to find himself face to face with you. 

“Shit,” he said, blinking. “Sorry. Is this the fifth floor?” 

You frowned and stepped inside. “Going to see Bob?” you asked, ignoring his question, pressing the five button for the fifth floor. 

Jake looked out as the doors slowly closed. It was an unfamiliar floor, with a different layout than where they had Bob. 

There was a small plaque sign on the wall in front of the elevator banks. 

Oncology. 

He turned to you. “What were you doing on that floor?” 

You shrugged. “Went looking for better coffee. Thought there might be a cart or something.” 

You kept your eyes turned straight ahead. Jake’s eyes roamed over your body, stopping at your hand where it was shaking next to your thigh. 

The door dinged and opened. You glared at him. “What are you looking at?” you snapped, stepping out onto the fifth floor. 

Jake followed you out into the hallway, heading for the waiting room. Phoenix and Bradley were huddled in the corner, deep in conversation. You were about to reach for the glass door when Jake’s arm caught yours. 

You whipped around. “Hangman? What the fuck?” 

“Why were you really on the oncology floor?” he whispered. 

You shrugged his hand off. “Like I said, I was looking for coffee.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“And you think I care whether or not you believe me?” You scoffed at him, opening the glass door. Bradley and Phoenix looked up. Bradley stood up and gathered you into a hug and you melted into him. “Any update?” you asked. 

Phoenix shook her head. “Not yet.” 

The glass door skidded open and all eyes turned. A tall doctor in blue scrubs looked around. “Reid Coleman?” 

You dropped your arms from where you had been holding Bradley and turned, tension filling every crevice in your body. “That’s me.” 

The doctor smiled. “Lieutenant Floyd is asking for you.” 

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[oh-surprise-its-me]

Jake knows he feels too much, he’s felt too much for years.

Hangman.

Christ. If only they knew he had lists in his notes app for allergies, likes and dislikes, favorite foods and birthdays.

Hangman.

Yeah. It’d be more fitting if he had been the one to leave the other behind. But no, he was flying with Snakebite and the asshole left Jake behind but hadn’t done the move right. So Jake pulled forward and ahead and Snake had to abort.

Hangman.

He wishes he could take the persona off, but it settles on his shoulders like a jacket. He finds some comfort in it. Jake knows that Javy can see through it, why Jake always sticks close to Javy and doesn’t ask too many questions. Has the confidence in himself when he really hasn’t had any since his father kicked him out at 15.

Hangman.

He sits outside the hard deck in the sand, he hears someone come up behind him. It’s probably Javy. The only person whose ever come to check on him in 20 years.

“You good Jake?”

Oh. Oh. That’s not Javy. That’s Bradley.

He sniffs, “yeah what’s it to you Roo.”

Bradley lands on the sand next to Jake, he sits close enough their shoulders touch. “Saw you leave. But I also saw you start crying. Figured I’d check up on you.”

Jake let’s put a wet laugh, he scrubs at his eyes. Jake, such the fucking cry baby look at you now.

“Jake come on what’s up, are you okay? Are you hurt? Should I get Javy?” Jake shakes his head, “no let him have his night. It’s stupid anyways. I’m just a bit drunk.”

Hangman.

“Can’t be that stupid if it made you cry.”

Jake falls back into the sand, it’s easier this way, he can just stare at the stars instead of looking away from Bradley.

“Nat almost drank coconut rum.”

Bradley lays back in the sand next to Jake. “Not sure I follow. But keep talking.” Jake shakes his head. “She’s allergic. No one saw but me so I reminded her. She told me to fuck off, and that if she wanted a lecture from her mom she’d call her.”

Bradley let’s out a puff of air. “Shit. I didn’t know she was allergic.”

Jake laughs again. God this day can’t end fast enough. “Not dead allergic just enough it bothers her. She mentioned once a few years ago.”

Bradley nods, “you notice things about people. You care.”

Now it’s Jakes turn to nod, “reason I came out here was I figured no one would notice I was gone. Got too loud in there.”

“I notice.”

Now Jake turns to look at Bradley, he’s not sure what he’s expecting to see but the look of, caring? God Jake might even dare to say love? In Bradley’s eyes are a startling image.

“You always let Payback have shotgun because rarely gets car sick, you let Javy have all your pickles because he loves them. You remembered Nat is allergic to coconut even though I’ve known her for years and she mentioned it to you once.”

Bradley takes a breath sitting back up. “God Jake I think I notice everything about you.”

Jake is shocked that Bradley has been apparently watching him for years. Shit maybe his crush isn’t just one sided. He sits up, twisting to face Bradley head on.

“You care?”

Bradley smiles, “please god punch me if I got this wrong Jake but I more then care.”

And then he kisses Jake.

Bradley Bradshaw is kissing Jake Seresin.

Merry fucking Christmas in July to Jake.

Jake pulls away. “I’m a lot Bradley. I feel too much. I cry when dogs die in movies. I get angry around father related holidays. I have a weirdly dependent relationship with my best friend. I get it if you want to run away.”

Bradley takes Jake’s hand, he brings it up to his mouth kissing it and then using it to drag Jake into a hug. “I like a lot Jake. I’m grabby in the mornings. I take 30 minute showers. I cook but maybe not to the best level. I go full out at any holiday but I’m insufferably overkill around Valentine’s Day. I’m not running if you aren’t.”

Jake presses a kiss into Bradley’s neck. He feels tears in his eyes but for different reasons now. “Well I guess there’s only one way for me to know about the grabby morning part huh?”

Bradley laughs, he stands in one motion, and sticks a hand out for Jake to grab. “Wanna find out?”

Jake smiles up and grabs Bradley’s hand.

He’s not letting go. And he’s going to remember every damn moment of tonight.

[fangirling-tussisque-noncaelatur]

[Coyote is trying to pry more information about Hangman and Rooster from Phoenix]

Coyote: Come on, Phoenix!!

Phoenix: Coyote, I told you everything I knew last night! Look, it's not that big of a deal, so Hangman and Rooster are doing it.

Coyote: I can't believe you would say that!

Phoenix: Sorry. Hangman and Rooster are...

Phoenix: *doing air quotes* ..."making love".

Coyote: No! I mean, come on! This is a huge deal!

Coyote: *sitting on the couch* Fine, I want...I need more details, who-who initiated the first kiss?

Phoenix: *thinking*...I don't know.

Coyote: Is Rooster romantic with Jake?

Phoenix: I don't know.

Coyote: Are they in love?

Phoenix: *thinking* I don't know.

Coyote: You don't know anything.

Phoenix: Ohh, I know one thing!

Coyote: What?

Phoenix: *pointing to where Coyote's sitting* They did it right there on the couch.

Coyote: *jumps up quickly*

Phoenix: *grins*

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

(TOPGUN friends of some of the Daggers are getting married, and Hangman and Phoenix will be standing up with them)

Hangman(to Phoenix): Now remember, it is the duty of the best man to dance with the maid of honor.

Rooster: Dance? You can't dance. When did you learn how to dance?

Hangman(puts a toothpick in his mouth and smirks): Oh, I've got moves you've never seen...

[beaniebeensbaby201]

A MILLION LITTLE THINGS

PETE "MAVERICK" MITCHELL LOVE STORY x JAKE SERESIN

Summary: Cheryl "Avalanche" Kazansky was called back to Top Gun. She was the best of the best. She won first place in her graduation class just like her father who was one of the best fighter Pilots in his generation. The only problem was, Maverick Mitchell. A man that she held a strong hatred for and broke her heart into pieces. The other problem, he's her instructor for the mission.

Pairings: Maverick x fem reader, Bradley Bradshaw x best friend reader, Natasha x best friend reader, Jake Seresin x girlfriend reader, Iceman x daughter reader. Bradley and Jake are best friends in this one.

Nicknames: Scooter, or Cherry or Cher

Callsign: Avalanche

Warning(s): angst, cursing, violence, 10 year age gap, implied smut, fighting.

"You ready to get your asswooped Bagman?" Scooter said, as her and Jake had a stare off.

Both of them had a smirk on their lips. Jake had his chin resting on the pool stick in front of him as Scooter was in position to get the ball in the hole.

He scoffed, "Please." Scooter raised her eyebrows at him while wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Oh! Would you look at that, four in one shot!" Scooter exclaimed, her hands in the air as she did a little dance.

"You cheated!" She called out, as the girl continued to shake her booty in front of him.

"Don't be such a sore loser!" Jake rolled his eyes at the girl.

"I'm gonna get a drink to celebrate, thanks for paying for them." Scooter said rushing to Penny before he could say anything.

"Shit." Scooter said under her breath, clearing her throat and faced the bar where the brunette woman stood behind the bar.

"I see you won." Scooter gave Penny a cheeky smile.

"I always win, Pen." She said in a flirty tone.

Penny rolled her eyes at her cockiness.

Scooter tried her best not to glance at the man beside her. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her soul. Her heart was in her throat, she couldn't look at him. She promised that she would do anything and everything to ignore him. She's been doing that for at least four years so far.

Penny noticed the look in the girl's eyes when she realized how uncomfortable she was. Penny looked over and noticed it was because of Maverick. She knew of their situation, how he broke her heart when she confessed her feelings for the older man, only for him to break it.

They were close, more than he'd liked to admit. He was also falling for her, too fast, but she was too young. She should be with a guy like Rooster, someone her own age. Not someone like him.

Penny knew why he did what he did. He didn't have to tell her. He knew that it was because of her age, or the fact her father was a close friend. He would deny any feelings for the pilot.

"You don't always win." A voice behind her spoke up.

Scooter rolls her eyes at the man behind her. Penny grabbed a few beers from the bar as she took out her card.

"Thanks babe!" Scooter kissed Jake on the cheek and patted him on the chest.

"Babe?" Maverick asked Penny as they walked off.

"They're not together. She hasn't dated anyone in a while." Penny informed. Maverick sighed, looking at the woman with a longing look.

"She's in love with you Mav. She tells me all the time. She'll tell me all about those horrible dates, how they were pigs. Then one day she finally agreed to go out with Jake, she's happy Mav. Jake's a good guy," Maverick looked up at Penny with wide eyes. Penny pursed her lips.

"They've been together for almost a year now." Maverick sighed as he watched the young couple.

"She wasn't going to wait forever Mav." Maverick stayed silent for a moment. She knew he was right.

"Bradshaw!" Scooter exclaimed from across the bar when she noticed a familiar man wearing his signature Hawaiian shirt.

"Scooter, how you been?" Bradshaw wrapped his arms around her in a brotherly hug.

"Ya know, livin" and breathin'." She said, with a grin on her lips.

"You look good." Scooter smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"How are you and Nat doing?" Bradley's face turned a deep shade of pink, which caused Scooter's grin to turn into a wider one.

"We're getting married." Scooter jumped up and down as she lets out a shriek.

"Omg, I'm gonna kill Nat for not telling me!" Scooter ran off to find the brunette, as Maverick looked over at the scene.

"Natasha!" Scooter shouted, marching towards the female Pilot who was talking to Hangman, Coyote and Fanboy.

"How did you not tell me?" Natasha glared sharply at Bradley who looked like he was scared.

"You weren't supposed to tell anyone yet!" Natasha scolded as she slapped him upside the head.

"I'm sorry, you know I can't keep secrets from her." Natasha sighed.

"What's she talking about?" Jake asked, standing beside Scooter over towering her smaller frame.

"Bradley proposed to me, we were planning on getting married after the mission." Natasha said, a smiling growing her lips, showing her pearly white teeth.

"I'm the maid of honor, right?" Scooter asked, raising her hand like a student would in class.

"Actually, you were gonna be Bradley's best man." Cheryl pouted, a look of disappointment in her eyes.

"Hey!" Jake exclaimed a look of disappointment in his eyes.

"I filled the spot ad Bradshaw's best man since we were two." Cheryl points two fingers showing the age they were when they met.

"Natasha only knows everything about Rooster is because of me." Scooter said pointing to herself as Bradley looked at her.

"Is that how she knew about that time-" Scooter cringed slightly, her teeth clenching when she realized that she said that out loud.

Natasha had an amused look on her face. Her arms crossed over her chest.

"Pff, no. Oh c'mon, it was funny!" Bradley glared at Scooter as she tried to get back in his good graces.

"I'm gonna go get drinks." Scooter goes to leave, Hangman follows them.

Jake took Scooter's hand, lacing them together. Luckily the bell of the bar rang, as everyone cheered. She noticed that it was Maverick and Penny. Jake noticed the look on her face, and stopped.

"You don't have to go over there. I could get us some drinks." Cheryl shook her head, giving Jake a false smile.

"I'm fine, it's just the way he broke my heart is what makes me hate him." She assured him. She didn't want anyone else to be hers, he was the one. Jake wasn't sure if he believed her, as he gave her a wary look.

"I could prove it to you tonight." She said, giving him a cheeky grin.

He had a smirk forming his lips as he looked down at her.

"Oh yea?" He asked coolly.

"Mhm." She said, her fingers playing with his uniform. His hands squeezed her hips as she looked at him with a seductive look. She had a cocky smirk on her lips knowing that she was winning.

"I'll meet you by the darts, get me my usual?" She asked. Jake squeezed her ass in a playful manner causing her to squeal out a laugh.

He gives her a kiss patting her ass softly as she watches him walk off. Her fingers on her lips as she could still feel his lips on hers. Her stomach bubbled inside her as she skipped over towards where Coyote was. Coyote had a teasing smile on his lips as he watched the girl come his way.

"Hangman isn't over here." He said in a playful tone.

"He's getting us drinks." She informed, grabbing three darts out of Coyote's hands.

"I bet you I could get a Bullseye without even looking. With three darts." She challenged him. Jake was at the jukebox playing Slow Rider by foghat. The two continued to argue even with Jake's presence.

"Thank you." Scooter said in a sweet tone as she kissed Jake on the cheek.

"What's she planning this time?" Jake asked, standing beside Coyote.

"She's trying to get a Bullseye without looking." Coyote informed.

"Hold my drink?" Scooter asked, placing the drink in his hands before he could even answer. Coyote snickered, as Jake glared at his friend.

Scooter covers her hand over her eyes, she has one dart in her hands that is facing the board. Scooter threw the three dots into the board and got a perfect Bullseye. It wasn't in the corner of the red dot, but right in the center.

"Why isn't your Callsign Bullseye?" Coyote asked, as Jake's smirk never left his lips.

"Who taught you that anyways?" Coyote asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"No one, I just hit the target every time." She said, staring at Jake the whole time. Coyote practically gagged when he noticed the fuck eyes they were giving each other.

"I'm out!" He Pat's Jake on the shoulder before leaving the two.

"Everytime huh?" Jake grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. She was basically straddling his thigh.

"Every. Single. Time." She said slowly, with each word their lips getting closer.

"You sure about that?" He rasped.

"Positive." She whispered, their lips crashed together in a slow kiss. Her fingers going into his blonde hair as their noses brushed against each other.

They break apart when they hear the bell ringing again. A group of Naval Pilots head over towards Maverick who was being picked up and thrown out the door. On the other side of the bar Bradley was starting to play Great balls of fire.

"C'mon!" She said running over to Bradley. It was their song. Not his and Natasha's, not he's and Jake's but Bradley's and hers.

Bradley looked around the bar for Cheryl who came running over to the piano. She sat down beside him in the little space they had and she began to play the keys with him. Jake stood behind her resting his hands on her shoulders as they began to sing.

Memories flashing her vision as she remembered Goose playing at the little diner that her dad took her with Maverick. She was four when she wanted to learn how to play piano to play with her favorite Uncle. Then Goose passed, but Bradley and Scooter still played great balls of fire every chance there was a piano.

Outside Maverick watched the kids. He was having the same flashback from when they were kids. Scooter and Bradley sat on the piano as Goose would play. Charlie was standing next to Maverick while Carole sat in Goose' lap. Penny looked outside with a worried look on her face as she noticed a panicked Maverick. He walked away, not wanting to stay any longer than he needed.

That's when he also knew that he wasn't going to gain her trust again. Not after what he did to her.

A/n: sorry this chapter is so long, hope you enjoy this.

[sunlitsunflowers]

Not me running over to read this fic after seeing the words protective Jake in your reblog😂😂

But also this is everything!!! Protective Jake!!! Frantic in love Bradley!! Also so excited to see Bradley try and fix this!! The potential grovelling!! I'm very here for it!!!💛💛💛

A Misinterpreted Loss

Summary: Bradley finally asked you out, but what happens when he walks out with another girl? Running to your best friend seemed like the only logical answer.

Pairings: Jake Seresin X Bestfriend!reader / Bradley Bradshaw x female!reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, baby swear words, fluffy fluff.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: I have a million WIP’s but this idea came to me today and I had to get it out. Possible part 2? As always, my inbox is open for you all. Thanks for reading!!

Keep reading

[sometimesanalice]

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss. 

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”  

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.  

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier. 

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together?  You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day.  I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[joelslegalwhre]

drunk confessions

word count // 2.056k

pairing // jake “hangman” seresin x f!bradshaw!reader

summary // You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it

warnings // established relationship. (slightly)drunk!reader, mentions of alcohol, lightweight reader, nicknames for reader (bubbles, sweetheart, etc.), Bradley is in big brother mode, the mission I mentioned isn’t from the film, the pilots still live in their own apartments (all near the base) for this fic, soft!hangman (that man alone is a warning but him being soft???), affectionate Jake and a ton of fluff

a/n // This is the new version of "drunk confessions" from '22! I just changed the wording a little, but nothing of the plot has changed. I loved writing this two years ago and if anyone wants more Hangman, don't worry I have more to come because same haha Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers ❀

(as always, please tell me if I missed a warning)

Masterlist

You and Jake started dating almost a year ago when Bradley and him were together at Top Gun. 

Rooster and Hangman had never been the best of friends, everyone knew that, so it was never the right moment to tell him about the two of you. The risk of Bradley being angry or perhaps even disappointed was too big. At least that’s what you thought. 

Jake understood why you didn’t want anyone to know. And although he’d love to just scream it out into the world, that he was dating the younger Bradshaw, that he was without a doubt the luckiest man on fucking earth, he respected your decision. 

Jake knew that you’d do the same for him without a question.

You wanted to tell Bradley eventually, just right now wasn’t the right time. But the real question is, when was it really? 

Jake had a hard time keeping away from you whenever you were at the Hard Deck with the team. You mostly spent your time at the bar with Penny, to keep her company and to catch up with the latest news - often involving your godfather. 

She and Maverick were so obvious sometimes it made you chuckle, but you really hoped he wouldn’t let her down this time. But Amelia and you would ensure that. 

From your seat at the bar, you also had a perfect sight at the pool table. A lame excuse to stare at a certain blonde pilot all night. 

Jake would always be the first to voluntarily get a new round of beers for the group, and no one complained about it. They were all so caught up in what they were doing, that no one noticed how he eyed you all night, ready to be by your side in seconds if anyone were to bother you. 

-

“Hey Penny, sweetheart. Another round please!” he gave her a wink and shot her one of his handsome grins. Penny nodded with a smile in return and turned around to get seven cold beers for the young pilots. 

“You look smokin’ hot, baby.” he whispered to you as his bright eyes met yours. They had this glow in them every time he looked at you. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Seresin.” you teased him with a wink. 

“I can do way more than look good. Whatever you want, Bradshaw.” he grinned while his hand secretly found yours on the bartop, his broad frame shielding it from preying eyes. 

You chuckled lightly, “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah, babe. You better wait for me when everyone’s gone. I need to take ya home with me.” he flirted shamelessly in his southern accent you loved so much. Jake knew you’d do exactly that anyway, since you basically lived at his apartment at this point, but where would be the fun?

-

Not even Phoenix knew about the two of you, so you could say both Hangman and yourself did a rather good job. 

This time was different though. 

They were all going to meet up at the Hard Deck tonight, for another night of pool, darts and what not. The next mission was in less than a week, and you just wanted to spend as much time with Jake as possible. Just like he wanted to with you. 

Jake hated to keep his hands by himself when you were just a few feet away, playing darts with Fanboy or Bob. You never hid from them, after all, Rooster was your older brother. If you weren’t talking to Penny, you spent your nights with them, laughing, drinking and chatting. 

Not tonight… tonight would be different.

You met Penny at the bar in the late afternoon, to help her get everything ready before the first guests would come in. Amelia was staying at a friend’s house, so you gladly took over her part. 

When everything was ready for the Hard Deck to open, you sat down at your regula seat at the bar. 

Penny looked at you from the side while she turned on the lights underneath the bar. “Can I get you anything?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Can I get a beer?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Penny smiled gently. She put the bottle down in front of you, and you took a large sip. 

“So,“ Penny started, putting her hands on the bar, arms on each side of your beer. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’ve been out of it today.“ You looked up at her, and she had this look on her face that gave you so much comfort. You knew you could tell her everything and she’d keep it safe. 

„I… I’ve been thinking about…„ Yeah, what exactly was it that you thought about ever since opening your eyes today? 

You didn’t even know. Not really. 

You thought about telling Bradley about your relationship with his rival, screwing everything. But you’ve also thought about keeping it to yourself just a little longer. The upcoming mission was creeping into your mind at every thought; What if they didn’t make it? You didn’t want to think about that more than just a second. Not about your brother nor Jake. 

He would come back, and he’ll be fine. This wasn’t his first mission.

“I don’t even know Penny, I’m so confused.” you sighed and let your head fall into your crossed arms. 

“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know you will.” she said, caressing your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes, her kind smile calming your racing thoughts a little. 

Not enough, though. 

That night, you kind of ignored your limits of how much alcohol you could handle in one night. You got pretty much drunk. Not to a point where you could throw up or blackout, Penny was in charge of the bar after all, but the kind you’d be rewarded with a nice headache the next day and your mind to be pretty foggy. 

Drinking wasn’t one of your strengths. That’s why Jake liked to jokingly call you a lightweight, and he couldn’t be more accurate with it. 

You’ve been sitting at the bar for a good part of the night now. The team had already greeted you when they came in, asking you to come with them, but you declined, telling them you’d maybe join them later.

“Penny.” you tried to get her attention, a sudden certainty in your voice, “Please excuse me. I have to go and get some kisses now.“ 

“That’s his boyfriend duty,” you said with a confident nod. “You know, happy wife, happy life.” 

Penny had no idea how no one of the team could see the glances Hangman gave you. How he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. If anything happened, he’d be there in a heartbeat. And those poor guys who tried to flirt with you were quickly intimidated by his death stare. 

Penny just laughed. She had kept a close eye on you since your third drink of the night, the last two she gave you were non-alcoholic, but you didn’t have to know that. 

She ignored your choice of words at the saying, not changing ‚wife‘ to ‚girlfriend‘ with a chuckle and motioned you to go. “Go and tell Jake then.” You looked at her with wide eyes, “How did y‘know I’m talking about Jake?” 

Penny tilted her head with a smile, “Sweetheart, I notice things.” she winked, “Now go and get your man.” 

The next thing you knew, you were trying to your boyfriend at the pool table. 

“Hey, Jake!” 

His head snapped in your direction at the use of his first name. You were the only one calling him that. And the first name basis got everyone else’s attention as well. 

“Yeah?” he tried to not be too obvious. But his concern about how you were feeling was rising with every second. 

You didn‘t stop at the pool table, but walked up to him. Until you stood right in front of him. You looked up into his bright eyes, filled with curiosity.

“I need kisses.” you told him with a pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so thrown off by what you were saying, that he almost forgot the others around him.

Jake unwrapped your arms from his neck and placed his hand on your lower back. “I think you need some water and sleep, bubbles.” he couldn‘t suppress the small grin that grew on his lips.

„Kisses?! What the fuck is-„ Rooster started but was quickly interrupted by you, “Oh for god’s sake shut up Bradley.” you hushed your brother in honest annoyance, turning to him. 

“I love you, but I’m sick and tired of hiding something from you that’s important to me, just because I’m scared of what you’ll think or do.”

Hangman’s gaze was a mix between shock and pride. That you just straight out told your brother and all of your friends standing around you, about the two of you. Not keeping it a secret anymore. He knew it took a toll on you, and he’d told you multiple times to just tell Bradley for your own sake.

“Oh my god” you heard Phoenix breath out a laugh, while the others couldn‘t find words, still shocked, while some of them were exchanging amused looks.

Bradley didn’t. He looked back and forth between you and Jake, not able to process it all quite yet.

„Sorry man, listen I-„ 

“Just give me a second, okay?” Rooster cut Hangman off, stomping to the bar. 

“Let him be,“ you said while curling yourself into his side, hugging his arm close to your body, “He’ll be fine by tomorrow, the old drama queen.” Sober-you would probably be scared Bradley would be angry or disappointed. 

Good thing you weren‘t sober right now. 

“Babe, how much did you have to drink?” Jake whispered, as he bent down a little until his lips reached your ear.

“Ohh, not that much.” you assured him as you tried to sound sober, looking up at his face, only inches away from yours.

He looked back to the bar, finding Penny’s gaze. She mouthed something like “water” easing Hangman’s concern about your drunken state.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh, sugar?” he softly smiled at you. A real smile, one he had reserved for only you. 

You instantly shook your head in disagreement, “I swear, I’m not-„ you yawned, “that tired.” 

“‘Course you aren't” he mockingly smiled down at you.

“C‘mon, on my back.” he ordered, putting his hands behind his back, ready to hold your legs for support. He bent down, and you tried your best to hop on his back. You wouldn’t win anyway, and sooner or later - you preferred later - he’d carry you out the bar. 

You rested your head on Jake’s shoulder and wrapped your hands around his body. Your eyes already closing as the exhaustion betrayed you.

“Wow, Hangman, nice one.” Coyote teased him, the others joining in with laughter. Who would’ve thought Hangman had a soft spot.

“Shut it, Coyote.” Jake said with a look that would make anyone run for the hills.

“See you tomorrow, lover boy!” Phoenix joked. 

You giggled on Jake’s shoulder, “That’s a good one!” you lazily turned your head in her direction and smirked, Phoenix and the others laughing back at you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Jake complained, giving your ass a little smack.

“Hey.” you giggled, but did nothing in response. Your head ached a little, and you hadn‘t had the strength nor willpower to do so. Just relived to be carried, you let your head sink back on Jake’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” you whispered to Jake as he carefully sat you down on the passenger seat of his car. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding yours. Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips and he smiled. 

The slight smell of alcohol was surrounding you, but Jake couldn’t care less. „I love you, and I’ll never let you go, that’s for sure. You’re all mine, baby.“ he whispered back between small kisses, giving you goosebumps. His scent surrounded you as you wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him even closer. “Good.” you grinned and pulled him into another, longer kiss.

Masterlist

[lulunothulu]

“All Your’n”

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley had been best friends for a while. You’d both wanted more but the other didn’t know until you declare him yours after a fight.

Content: fluff, swearing, FLUFF

GIF credit: @betty-draper

Based on the song “All Your’n” by Tyler Childers

It’d been a shitty day.

All day long, you had been dealing with the Dagger Squad and their stupid antics. Everyone was irritating you and you didn’t know why.

No, you knew why.

It was Bradley’s fault.

The night before, you’d watched him flirt with one of the skankiest aviator you’d ever met—Sunny—at Hard Deck. While you two weren’t together, you’d hoped he wouldn’t go so low. Especially with her. He knew you and Sunny had a problem with one another and being your best friend, Bradley had vowed to you he would never fuck with her.

I guess things change.

It started like any night at Hard Deck, Bradley and Jake picking a girl Jake should flirt with and Bradley telling Natasha and Bob he didn’t think Jake would do it.

“He’s being a little too cocky,” you hear Nat tell Bradley. “If he wants the red head to like him, he should’ve just gotten her a drink like a normal guy instead of showing off his darts skills.”

“Wait hold on,” you tell her, pointing to Jake and the red head across the bar. “Look at what he’s doing.”

“That son of a bitch,” you hear Bradley mutter to your left.

Jake had just tapped his cheek, the red head moving to kiss him before he turns his head quickly, catching her lips with his.

“That was annoyingly smooth,” he says with an eye roll. He finishes his beer before turning to the group and asking, “Anyone want another?”

Payback, Coyote, Fanboy, Natasha, and you all cheerfully say, “Fuck yes” causing Bradley to shake his head with a smile and look to Bob.

“Help me carry them all?” Bob nods, following Bradley’s broad and muscular form to the bar where Penny greets them with smiles.

You turn to Nat who’s watching you with a smile.

“Wanna play a game of pool, Domino?” She asks.

You shrug, “Why not? I have to school your ass again.”

“I let you win that one time and now you have an ego,” she laughs.

You’re in the middle of starting the game when you see Sunny walk into the bar and make a beeline for Rooster at the bar.

Her blonde hair was loose, falling down her neck and brushing the seams of her sundress.

“When did she get the time to change into that?” Natasha asks from your right.

“Who fucking knows,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

Behind you, Coyote whistles as Sunny, Bob and Rooster approach with beers in hand. “Damn, Sunny. You look good.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I did it for Bradshaw here.”

Fucking bitch.

Bradley’s brows raise in question as he takes a swig of his beer and hands you yours. “For me? Why?”

Sunny laughs. “I’ve been sending you hints for past few months. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Honestly no,” Bradley tells her. “I’ve had my eyes on someone else.”

At that everyone turns to you, but you’re too busy looking at Sunny. Her eyes narrow on you before she sweetly smiles before wrapping her arms around Bradley’s broad shoulders.

“Can you show me how to play pool?” She asks.

“I guess, Seresin’s better than I am,” he tells her. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

You watch as Sunny leads him to the pool table across from yours, Bradley’s eyes apologetic as he begins to show her how to play.

“Easy girl,” you hear Jake say behind you. You turn to see him sipping his beer, an arm around the red head. “He knows who he belongs to. No need to get worked up.”

“Fuck off, Bagman.” You seethe.

By the end of the night, Sunny was drunk as hell, dancing on tables and doing everything she could to keep Bradley by her side. It was 11:45 PM when you finally had enough.

“I think imma head out,” you tell Phoenix.

“Do you want me to get Bradley?” She asks.

You turn to where Sunny’s legs were propped on Rooster’s lap, Bradley’s hand comfortably on her ankle and smile lazily on his lips.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “Nah, let him have more time with his new girlfriend.”

He didn’t even bother to text you how and if you got home that night. And that’s what was pissing you off the most.

Not that he had broken the one promise you asked him to never do, but that he never even called you to make sure you were alright.

Sunny must’ve been really good in bed. Of course she was. She was the squad’s biggest flirt, and that says something because Hangman is the man-whore.

Anyway, it wasn’t like you stayed up all night waiting for his call.

That would’ve been pitiful.

Your last straw today had been when you saw Sunny and Bradley talking y one of the jets, Sunny’s hand on his chest laughing at something he’d said.

Your blood was boiling. You wanted to slap the smile off her face, or worse pummel her into the ground with your boots.

“Domino,” you hear Natasha call to your left. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think somethings wrong?” You ask.

“Your face is unusually bitchier,” Jake says from behind.

“Maybe it’s because everyone has been annoying the shit out of me,” you spit back.

“Everyone, or Bradshaw?” He asks, a smirk forming.

“Fuck off, Seresin,” you seethe, clenching your jaw from saying it too loudly for everyone else to hear.

“C’mon, Y/L/N,” he starts. “We all know you’re sweet on Bradshaw.”

“Hangman,” Natasha warns.

“What it’s true?” He counters. He points, flicking between you and Bradley behind you. “They’ve been inseparable for years. Plus, we all see the way they look each other. He’s as much hers and she is his. They should just kiss and get it over with. Then, we won’t have to deal with her mood swings when Sunny starts acting a fool.”

“Seresin, shut. The fuck. Up.” You seethe. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I may not look like the brightest, but I have eyes,” he tells you, squaring his shoulders and smiling. “We can see how much it kills you that Sunny—”

“I’m warning you…”

“—has made the moves on Bradshaw, even after you two had that vow,” he continues. “Just go claim him!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP SERESIN.” You yell, causing everyone in the hangar to turn to where you two are standing—Bradley and Sunny included.

Your cheeks feel warm, you know you’re blushing and hard. Behind you, you feel a hand in your shoulder and when you turn, you find Maverick standing there. His face is masked in calm but you know he’s probably as angry as he can be.

“Go take a walk,” he tells you.

You’re shaking in anger and embarrassment, but you nod. Pushing past him, you take off, passing by a smug-faced Sunny and dumbfoundedly confused Bradley.

“See ya, Domino,” Sunny says as you pass them. She laughs before adding, “Fucking psycho.”

That makes you stop in your tracks because what the actual fuck?

You turn to face her, walking right up to her, and getting within an inch of her face.

“What did you say?” You ask.

Fear fills her eyes and she pulls Bradley close to her. “Nothing.”

You look to where she’s holding Bradley by the bicep, then up at Bradley who’s confused and hopefully feeling your disappointment.

You roll your eyes, feeling the angry tears coming. “Whatever. You deserve her.”

You’re halfway to the tarmac when you feel a large hand wrap around your wrist. You’re spun around to face Bradley who looks confused.

“What’s your deal?” He asks. “I didn’t hear from you last night and you didn’t even tell me you left Hard Deck. And now, you’re acting all annoyed and lashing out on everyone.”

“No I’m not,” you respond.

“Don’t think on I didn’t notice your groaning all day, Y/N,” he scolds. “You’ve been on one all day. What’s wrong?”

You rub your nose angrily before shaking your head and turning away from him. “You. You’re what’s wrong.”

“Why?” Bradley’s brown eyes are soft, brows furrowed in confusion and you can’t help but feel the urge to slap the puppy dog eyes out of him.

“You broke our vow!” You spit. “You fucked Sunny even after you said you never would. And then on top of that, you didn’t notice I left or you did and you were too busy with Sunny to bother to text or call me to see if I was alright or if I got home.”

You were pacing, wildly waving your hands as you speak. “And what hurts the most is that you did that without batting an eye. I thought—”

You stop talking. You can’t bring yourself to admit what you’d been wanting to for the past few years you’d known Bradley. You loved him, and you thought he loved you back.

But you guess not.

“You thought what?” Bradley asks, shouting over the jets flying to the left of you. His brows were so furrowed, you thought they’d stay that way.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your anger and frustration.

“I thought you would’ve—,” you start to shout back, blinking back tears. “I thought you would’ve chosen me instead.”

Bradley only stares at you, shocked. You’re a good few paces away from him so you angrily shake your head, wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, and begin to walk away.

But his strong hand on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“What makes you think I didn’t choose you?” Bradley asks.

“What’re you talking about?” You ask. “I saw you with Sunny.”

“Last night, nothing happened,” he tells you.

“What?”

He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his mustached face. “I took her home and then left. My phone died at the bar and I didn’t think you’d be awake when I got home.”

You only stare up at him.

“I was gonna check on you today, but you gave me the cold shoulder all morning,” he goes on.

“You didn’t sleep with her?” You ask.

“God, no,” he smiles.

That changed everything. If they didn’t sleep together, then what did he mean by choosing you?

“What did you mean,” you start. “About choosing me?”

“Y/N,” he starts, hand rising to cup your cheek. “Have you seriously not noticed?”

“Noticed what?” You ask.

“All I have are eyes for you. I have for a long time,” he tells you. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first met you. I’ll love you until my lungs give out. You’re mine, even if you don’t know or feel it. But you are.”

“I’m yours?” You ask, dumbfounded by his admission.

“Yes,” he laughs.

You smile, bringing your hand to his on your cheek. Happy tears fill your eyes as you tiptoe to kiss him, his mustache tickling your nose and making you smile into the kiss. Your heart lurches at the thought of Bradley loving you as long as you’ve loved him, the fact that you’re kissing him amplifying that feeling.

“Good, because I’m all yours,” you smile. “And you’re all mine.”

[topgun-imagines]

Permanent State of Oblivion

Requested: yes

Summary: Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the Hard Deck.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: drinking, arguments, angsty feelings.

Pairings: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader

“I just- I don’t know what to do about him, Nat.” You were seated across from Natasha on her bed, hand in hers as she worked on your nails. One well-kept secret about Phoenix was that she was incredibly talented in nail art; a secret that you regularly capitalized on as her best friend. She often used you for practice, like she was doing right now. Silently, the pilot nodded, used to your ranting about Bradley by now. “He’s just so- so oblivious.”

Unbeknownst to Bradley, you’d had a massive crush on him for months. You had been friends with the mustached pilot for nearly three years. He was an amazing friend, and in that department, you couldn’t ask for more. The only issue that you had was that apparently, Bradley was blinder than a bat. No matter how hard you tried or how obvious you made it, Bradley never picked up on your crush on him.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind that your feelings remained a secret, however; your feelings had reached the point where you knew they weren’t going away anytime soon. The only option left was to try and tell Bradley how you felt.

Painting one of the roses on your nails, Nat weighed in on the situation. “He’s an idiot.” Her choice of words had you stifling a giggle, receiving a playful glare when your hand twitched. You murmured an apology as she continued. “The only way he’s gonna realize how you feel is if you’re straightforward about it.”

A groan bubbled out of your chest. You hated confrontation. Surely if Bradley was smart enough to be in the top one percent of all naval aviators, he was smart enough to realize your feelings for him. Right?

“I know, I know,” You started, “I just wish he could open his eyes for once.”

“Maybe if he shut his mouth for once his eyes would have some room to work,” Phoenix muttered, knowing exactly how stubborn the pilot was. The two of you descended into giggles as Natasha finished off your nails.

Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, blasting music as you drove to the hard deck. Jake had organized a night out for the group, and the two of you certainly weren’t ones to pass on a fun night out with friends. As Natasha hadn’t hesitated to point out, maybe you would finally get the chance to tell Bradley how you felt.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked beside Jake’s truck. The two of you hopped out and headed into the bar, already plotting what interesting drink orders you could try and get Penny to make this time. The second you stepped into the bar, you were greeted loudly by the group of aviators. With large smiles, you and Phoenix joined the group and were quickly pulled into whatever idiotic story Jake was telling. Unsurprisingly, your eyes quickly found Bradley.

Phoenix pretended that she couldn’t see how your stare lingered on your coworker. While you knew that Phoenix knew, you were oblivious to the fact that Jake and Bob had also figured out your little secret. Natasha forbade them from saying anything or trying to persuade Bradley into doing anything stupid. God only knows that if they told that fool to make a move on you he’d find some way to mess it up.

As Jake rambled on about some hilarious incident from his recent vacation back in Texas, you couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you told Bradley the truth. Honestly, you were tired of wasting time. You didn’t want to miss out on anything anymore. Even if Bradley didn’t feel the same, you needed to know. At least then you would be able to move on knowing that nothing could ever happen between the two of you.

Natasha’s elbow in your side pulled you out of your depressing thoughts. She fixed you with a knowing look, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the rest of the group dispersed at the end of Jake's story. “Tell him,” she urged you quietly. “We both know that he’ll never figure it out on his own.” And with that, you mustered up all the courage that you could before disappearing into the crowd to find Bradley.

Suddenly, Bob and Jake popped up over Natasha’s shoulder. “Twenty bucks says the dumbass still finds a way to screw it up.” Bob and Natasha hummed in agreement.

By the bar top, you were just about to call out to Penny to ask where Bradley was when you spotted it; a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and a pornstache that could put all the rest to shame. It took a couple of minutes of maneuvering through the intoxicated crowd, but eventually, you were standing right behind him. At the soft tap on his shoulder, Bradley spun quickly, surprised to find you standing there.

“Hey Bradshaw,” you started, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded for you to continue. “I just wanted to tell you that-” Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by some blonde winding her arms around his shoulders and peppering kisses up the side of his neck. Your words died in your throat as you started at the scene in front of you. Bradley didn’t even try to push her off. You felt sick to your stomach.

Noticing the tears welling in your eyes, the blonde smirked. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She sounded innocent, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing by trailing her finger across his chest and sucking a mark into the skin of his neck. You could only shake your head, feeling bile rise in your throat. The room suddenly seemed hot; you were desperate to find a way out of there. Before you knew it, you were shoving your way through the crowd and out the door of the bar.

With the blonde still clinging to his side, Bradley looked around the room in confusion. He met Natasha’s stern gaze and instantly knew that he had screwed it up somehow. Bradley huffed and pushed the blonde off of him, rolling his eyes at the scoff she let out. Then he was following after you, leaving the chaos of the bar behind him as he chased you into the parking lot. “Hey!” He called out, hand grasping your wrist. “What the hell is your problem?”

You jerked your wrist out of his hand and spun to face him angrily. Your face was hot with anger and Bradley could have sworn he saw steam coming from your ears. Despite all this, he could see tears welling in your eyes. “My problem?” You seethed, stepping dangerously close to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. “My problem, Bradshaw, is that you’re ignorant enough to let that- that slut hang off your arm without a care in the world!”

It killed you to see him standing there with her, but what was worse than all of that, was the fact that he didn’t care in the slightest. It’s not like she was someone he was seeing; she was just a random face in the bar. Somehow, that made things worse to bear.

Bradley scoffed and dismissively shoved your finger away from his chest. “Why the fuck do you care?” You could only stare at him, searching for the words he wanted to hear. “That chick had nothing to do with you, and you know that so what the fuck is your problem?” He paused, his words cutting deep as you searched for a response.

Behind him, the bar door opened revealing Jake, Bob, and Natasha. They watched silently as you continued to rip into each other.

“You know what, you fucking dick?” You were close to him once more; so close that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You are the most ignorant, self-absorbed person I have ever met.” With each accusation, you drove your finger into his chest harder, despite his attempts at brushing it off. “You are so wrapped up in your own bullshit that you don’t even notice who you’re hurting!”

You had never spoken to him like this before. Sure, there had been little arguments here and there, but the rage that he saw in your eyes now was something new entirely. A single, angry tear dripped down your face. “You don’t think about anyone besides yourself! You certainly don’t care about them. And believe me, Bradshaw, you have made that more than obvious.”

The pilot in front of you scoffed once more, having no retort for your deep jab at his character. Of course, he cared for the people around him, and for you to suggest otherwise was, in his mind, unfathomable.

However, you didn’t stop there. “You are absolutely unbelievable! You are so oblivious it’s painful, Bradshaw. You must have your head stuck up your ass to miss every single hint I’ve been giving you for months!” You paused for a moment, waiting for Bradley to interject.

He didn’t, refusing to believe anything you said to be true. There was no way that you could have feelings for him. Was there?

He shook his head in annoyance. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out, hating how easily you were able to sidestep it. “Why the fuck do you care who I flirt with?” His voice was loud, even scaring those watching from the front steps of the bar. Bradley figured that you were probably having a bad day and had taken your anger out on him. Even though he hoped that this wasn’t the case and that you actually did care about who was flirting with him. It was wishful thinking; to imagine that you would ever see him as anything more than an annoying friend. He was sure of it.

You could only groan angrily with tears still tracking down your skin. “Jesus, Bradshaw, because I love you, you fucking idiot!” It was as if time stood still. That was what it felt like as you watched Bradley process the reality of the words that you had just shouted at him. No movement came from the pilot in front of you; the only sign of life being the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. There was no way it could be true. There was no way that a kind-hearted, sweet girl like yourself could ever fall for anyone as messed up as him. To Bradley, the mere idea of you having feelings for him was unfathomable.

For months, he had watched you from afar, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He slowly began to learn what you loved, from your favourite song to sing along to when you were drunk at 2 am to your favourite flavour of ice cream. Bradley learned what made you laugh until your stomach hurt and what made you cry until your cheeks were stained. He knew every little thing about you but he never acted on it, in fear that you would never feel the same. To know that all this time, you had feelings for him as well, was surreal.

The deafening silence grew between the two of you, moving until it encompassed the bystanders waiting in front of the bar with bated breath. Continuing to stare at the pilot, your mind was running a million miles a minute. What had you just done? Sure, the two of you were arguing, but that was no reason to bear your true feelings to the man. What if he didn’t feel the same? You were convinced that this had to be the case when he refused to move a muscle.

“Bradley,” you whispered, nerves showing through the shake in your voice. “Please, say something.” Your mind plagued you with thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You were fully expecting him to turn around and storm off, refusing to ever speak to you again. With tears filling your eyes once more, you pleaded one last time. “Bradl-”

Your eyes widened as Bradley cut you off in a way you would have never expected. In one fluid, sudden motion, Bradley had lunged toward you, his lips moulding softly with yours. His hands cradled your waist, holding you as if you were a delicate flower. You could have sworn you heard yourself squeak but honestly, you were too overwhelmed to tell.

As Bradley continued to kiss you gently, your eyes fluttered shut. You became lost in the feeling of his hand caressing your side. His pinky finger slipped under the hem of your top, drawing a light gasp from your lips. The kiss deepened as Bradley pulled you towards him by your waist and as your hand worked into his soft curls at the base of his neck.

A soft giggle slipped past your lips as that familiar pornstache that you were used to making fun of was now tickling your upper lip. The pilot smiled into the kiss at the feeling, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours lovingly mere seconds later. “Does that answer your question?” He whispered, causing more giggles to flow from your mouth. You could only nod, still starstruck by the actions of the man holding you.

For the second time this evening, you were close enough to the pilot that you were able to smell his breath. While the faint scent of alcohol was still present, you were now able to pick up the familiar scent of your strawberry lip gloss. One glance at his parted lips was enough for you to see the slight pink hue that your lip gloss caused him.

There was a lovestruck smile on his face; a stark contrast to the anger shining in his eyes merely twenty minutes ago. Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked down at you. While he knew that he never stated it clearly, he was in awe of the wonderful woman that you were. As he thought about how perfect you were, guilt for the way he spoke to you before began to eat at him.

He cleared his throat, needing to make amends for his actions. “Seriously, though,” He started, eyes softening as he recalled the events from earlier. “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. What I said was completely uncalled for and out of line.” The corners of your mouth twitched up in a forgiving smile as you reached up to stroke the corner of his mustache with your thumb. Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, rocking the two of you softly. “I love you so, so much, baby girl.”

Your hand trailed from his soft cheek to the back of his neck as he shifted the two of you, fingers once again threading through the short curls. Warm, ocean air breezed past the two of you as Bradley held you close. Behind you, the sun was setting beautifully over the ocean. It painted the parking lot with a soft, pink glow. No matter how many sunsets you had seen before, for some reason, this one was the most beautiful. It was almost as if the beauty of the sunset reflected your feelings for each other. Despite the rocky road that it took you to get here, no moment had ever seemed as perfect as this one.

Unsurprisingly, your moment of bliss was quickly interrupted by the other aviators waiting at the steps of the bar. Your friends gradually made their way closer, unable to contain their questions and comments any longer. You felt Bradley sigh into the skin of your neck before he kissed it softly, causing butterflies to swarm in your chest. With your head still tucked into his chest, you felt a blush begin to creep up your neck at the realization that your friends had likely watched the whole event unfold. Despite the flush in your cheeks, you still made eye contact with each of them, dreading the inevitable bombardment of questions that were bound to come.

Even as you stood in front of your friends, ready to explain the rollercoaster of a scene they just witnessed, Bradley’s arms remained wound around your waist. His thumb moved over the bare skin of your side softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “No need to explain.” Nat offered with a reassuring smile. She could sense that you were hesitant to have to explain it all so quickly. Plus, she knew that she would get the details soon enough.

Together, Bob, Jake, and Nat offered you their congratulations before turning to head back to the bar. With his arm still around your waist, you and Bradley follow your friends in sync with each other. Your still-rosy cheek rested against his broad shoulder.

Jake wasted no time in collecting his winnings from the previous bet, pumping his fist in the air as Bob and Nat each handed Jake a 20. In the back of your mind, you briefly wonder why they handed him the cash in the first place. Once the five of you re-entered the air-conditioned comfort of the bar, Jake turned to you and Bradley, announcing that drinks were on him with that familiar, shit-eating grin on his face. That alone should have been enough to tell you that there was more to the story than you suspected.

Despite the weariness in both yours and Bradley’s minds, if Jake was offering to buy your drinks, who were you to turn it down? Just as you were about to take a sip of your beer, Bob piped up. “He bet you’d screw it up,” He quipped, grinning at the mixture of betrayal and shock written on Jake’s face that instantly took over his previous cocky expression. Within seconds Bradley had smacked his arm. While he was slightly annoyed that Jake had bet against him, he was more upset about the fact that he allowed Jake to win.

Bob and Phoenix continued to laugh at Jake’s dejected expression as you and Bradley watched fondly. The aviator pulled you into his side with gentle movements and your head fell onto his shoulder the second you were snuggled up against him.

In a state of bliss, you allowed your eyes to slip shut. You could only savour the feeling of being held in the arms of the man you loved. Tucked into Bradley’s side, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you would rather be. Turning his head, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, which caused a glowing smile to blossom on your face. A giggle escaped you at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, leading to a smile mirroring your own taking over his sculpted features.

Sure, it had been a rocky road to get here, but you would do it all over again if it meant feeling like this for a moment longer. You loved Bradley, and it brought you more relief than one could ever imagine to know that he felt the same for you.

Simply put, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic that you no longer had to keep your feelings a secret. Ecstatic that you could see a future blossoming between you and Bradley. Despite not knowing what that future held, you were positive that you and Bradley would be together for a long, long time to come.

However, one thing was for certain; Bradley Bradshaw was the most oblivious man you knew.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open. I’m excited to be back <3

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 13

Synopsis: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, cancer, alcohol, mentions of death, fertility discussions and pregnancy, surrogacy, mentions of IVF and clinics/hospital testing, fucking ANGST, medical inaccuracies because I am not a fertility expert or a physician

WC: 2.6K

Chapter summary: Phoenix's pregnancy progresses; Reid tells Bobby she's ready to get married; Reid forgives Jake for being a dick; Bobby and Reid prepare for Baby Floyd

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

Bob had always wanted kids. 

He wanted to be a dad, long before it was a popular idea. He remembered being eight and his little sister falling on the playground. He was the first one to get to her, to bandage her knee, to wipe away her tears and say it was going to be OK. 

He knew then what he knew now: he was meant to be a dad. He just had to find the right girl to build a life with. 

Everything happened fast. Before you knew it, you, Bob and Phoenix were on a commercial flight back to New York, meeting with your doctors at Mount Sinai about the viability of the eggs. Bob looked a little pale as they handed him a cup at the fertility specialist and showed him a private room in the corner. They asked if you would like to join him and the blush that crept over his face had you and Phoenix laughing for hours. 

You got to show Bob and Phoenix around New York for two days while you waited for the results from Bob’s tests, the egg viability tests, as well as Phoenix’s screening exams. You took them for bagels and walks in the park all the way up to the Met. You snuck out early from the AirBnB in the morning to get chocolate babka from Breads Bakery before it sold out and you and Bob wandered the aisles of The Strand before meeting Phoenix for dinner at your favorite tapas bar tucked away on west 10th street. 

And then you got the call. The three of you sat in the waiting room of the clinic on the upper east side, your hand swaddled in Bob’s. 

“Everything looks good,” the doctor said. “We can start fertilization and bring you in for a transfer in a few days.” 

You looked at Bob with wide eyes. He pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. When you leaned back you reached over and grabbed Phoenix, holding her tightly. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

The three of you left five days later with explicit instructions that Phoenix wasn’t to take a pregnancy test for two weeks. 

The two longest weeks of your life. Finally, two Fridays later, you sat in the back seat while Bob drove Phoenix to the clinic on base to get a blood draw. 

Later that night, the phone rang. You looked over at Phoenix, eyes wide. She reached out, hand steady and even, and swiped it open, hitting the speaker button. “Lieutenant Trace.” 

“Lieutenant Trace, it’s Dr. Marly. We have your results. Are Lieutenant Floyd and Ms. Coleman there as well?” 

“They are.” 

“Great.” There was the sound of shuffling paper. “Congratulations. You’re pregnant.” 

Your jaw dropped. For a moment, no one knew what to do. But then Bob pulled you into his arms, twirling you around in a circle before bending you backward, pressing his lips to yours, smiling. 

“You’re going to be a mom,” he whispered as he pulled back. 

A tear slid down your cheek. “And you’re going to be a dad.” 

He grinned. You turned to Phoenix who ended the call and looked up at you with a surprised look. 

Before she could say anything, your arms were wrapped tightly around her, your face buried in her neck. “Thank you,” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheek and wetting her hair. “I just, thank you.” 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and Bob stepped closer, wrapping the aviator in his arms and you watched the two of them, your heart threatening to crack in half. 

Bob called the rest of the team, inviting them over, and less than twenty minutes later the house was full of shouting aviators. You watched and laughed as Bob jumped up and down with Coyote and Bradley hugged Phoenix tightly, one hand over her flat lower stomach before she swatted him away playfully. 

Jake entered the room and zeroed in on you immediately, crossing the living room and coming to stand in front of you. “Reid,” he said softly. “I just–”

You closed the gap between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. The room went quiet and Jake’s arms circled your waist hesitantly. 

You pulled back slightly, still holding onto his shoulders. 

“I forgive you,” you said. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Grudges don’t matter. I’m going to be a mom. That’s what matters.” 

And then you pulled him back in for another hug, and felt the relief fall from Jake’s back. He felt lighter and you swore you almost heard him sniffle against your neck.

After the two of you broke apart, Bob crossed the room, wrapping his hands around the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly against your forehead. You closed your eyes and let go. 

Everything was going to work out. 

***

The waiting was the worst part. First it was for the first scan. And then it was for the heartbeat. 

Every time, you’d sit in the back as Bob drove the three of you to the clinic, his hand firm in yours as you sat on the chairs against the wall, waiting for the tiny bean to show up on the ultrasound. 

Sometimes you felt like you were married to Phoenix. Always asking her if you could do anything for her, rub her feet, get her ice cream. 

“Reid,” she laughed as you flitted nervously around the kitchen, looking for a snack. “You’re going to worry yourself into a coma.” 

You turned to her with a sigh. “I just, I don’t know what to do,” you admitted. “I don’t even know what my role is.” 

She stood and pressed her hands against the tops of your shoulders. “We’re all just figuring it out as we go.” 

You nodded softly. 

You couldn’t help but be jealous as you saw Phoenix’s body begin to round out softly. And you were thankful that she let you in on the experience, lifting her shirt, pressing your hand to the delicate curve without you ever asking.

But it didn’t stop you from tearing up in Bob’s arms at night as he held you. Perhaps you were crying for a lot of things. Not only the fact that you so desperately wanted to be the one to carry his child. But because you knew that at some point, somewhere, you would leave them. And it would be Bob and the baby. 

“Bobby?” you whispered quietly in the dark, your naked limbs tangled with his, his fingers threading softly through your hair. 

“What is it, honey?”

“Are you going to forget me?” you asked. “When I’m gone.” Then, “What if the baby never remembers me at all?” 

“Darlin’.” Bob tipped your chin up so you were looking at his soft blue eyes. “I’ll never forget you. Not as long as I live. You’re unforgettable, Reid Coleman.” 

“Floyd,” you said and Bob squinted. 

“Why are you calling me by my last name?” he chuckled.

You shook your head. “I want to be Reid Floyd. Let’s do it. Let’s get married.” 

“Are you serious?” he asked quietly. Bob knew you weren’t one for marriage or all the bureaucracy involved in a wedding. 

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I am. Just you and me. Maybe Phoenix. And Bradley can come.” 

Bob laughed, pressing his lips to yours, absorbing your laugh through his body. “So everyone,” he murmured. 

“Fine,” you said and he chuckled again, pulling you in tighter. “We can have a party after, a small one.” 

“Or just us,” he said softly. “Whatever you want, I’ll give you. Anything.” 

“You,” you whispered. “I want you. I want to be yours. That’s enough.” 

***

In the end, you had a small ceremony out on the beach near where Bob first asked you to marry him. You wore a white chiffon dress that floated in the wind, and Bradley officiated following a short online course to get ordained. 

You and Bob had agreed that writing your own vows were cheesy. The truth was, you didn’t think you’d be able to get through them without crying off your makeup. 

So when Bob pulled out a small sheet of paper, folded neatly into a square, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Bobby,” you whispered, shaking your head. "I didn't write anything."

He smiled. He was wearing a light tan suit with a white button up left slightly unbuttoned at the top, bare feet in the sand, hair slightly longer but brushed back neatly. Bob grinned at you. “Please, Sunny,” he said softly. “Let me do this.” 

You nodded and took his free hand in yours. 

“Sunny,” Bob said, smiling down at you. “I always knew that I loved you. I think in the beginning I wasn’t sure, all I knew was that I wanted to spend all of my time with you. That you were my best friend, the one person I trusted would always have my back. And then, slowly, I realized it wasn’t just that. I love the way you laugh and the way your eyes crinkle at the corners as you read and how you always have a huge bag of mints in the car that spills all over anytime you try to get one out while you’re driving, and I love the way you always make my birthday so special because you know I would never make a fuss about it myself. 

“I have loved you every day for ten years. Being your husband is going to be the most important thing I’ll ever do. You’re my whole world, Sunny. I hope I can make you even one percent as happy as you make me, simply by being yourself. You’re the best part of my day, you’re my best friend, you’re my soulmate. I love you so much, darlin’. And I always will.” 

You were sobbing. Bob slid the note back into his pocket, grabbing both of your hands with his, drawing your knuckles up to his lips and kissing them softly. 

Bradley pushed a tear off of his cheek and read the rest of the ceremony. You slid a solid gold band onto Bob’s finger. He placed the gold band he had originally given you back onto your finger where you had slipped it off earlier that morning and given it to Jake for safe keeping. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Bob stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you, one hand on your neck, supporting your head. He grinned and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring it. 

That was a moment that would last forever. 

***

You sat on the beach under an umbrella, wearing one of Bob’s old shirts over your swimsuit, drinking from a bottle of water. 

In the distance, along the shoreline, the team was playing a game of pickup dogfight football. You had become accustomed to the yells, the grunts, the almost blinding parade of abs. 

Next to you, Phoenix sat on a matching chair, reading a book. 

You looked over at her. “How are you feeling?” She was fifteen weeks along. Her lithe, gorgeous body had taken on a small rounded stomach which she rubbed with suntan lotion. 

“I’m OK,” she said, leaning back slightly and sighing. “Feeling huge.” 

You chuckled. “Well you look great.” 

Phoenix turned her eyes on you, your gold ring glinting in the sun as you slid on a pair of sunglasses over your eyes. “How are you, Reid?” she asked softly. 

“I’m good.”

“How are you really?” 

The truth was, you were tired. Small things felt like they were taking longer. You had started to scrapbook. You and Bob had both agreed that you’d quit your job, time was too precious, so you did, shortly after the wedding. It gave you time to think. Time to shop for a nursery, which you set up in your old room. Funny that only a handful of months before, you had been redecorating it as your room. Now, you and Bob shared the master, his nightstand impeccable and clean, yours littered with mint wrappers and dog-eared books and leftover bottles of half-full kombucha.

You needed more time. You were worried that one day they would forget you. That’s why you had a large photo of you and Bob printed and framed and hung it in the entryway. The two of you on the beach on the day of your wedding. Happy. You hoped that look would last forever. 

You smiled at her. “I want him to be happy,” you said softly. “Even when I’m gone. I want him to always look like this.” 

The two of you looked out over at the group. Bob sat on Bradley’s shoulders, proudly holding the football, a wide smile stretched over his entire face. 

“He deserves to be happy forever.” 

She reached out and grabbed your hand. “He’s happy now,” she said. “Let’s focus on that. That's all we can do.” 

***

The days were slow and fast, all at once. 

You and Bob had fallen into a rhythm. He made coffee while you slept in, and the two of you would sit in bed and drink the coffee when it was ready, the blinds pulled open. You filled your days with activities like painting the nursery or going to the farmer’s market, Phoenix’s doctor’s appointments, your own doctor’s appointments. 

There was a conflicting feeling in your chest every time you walked into a medical office. 

The doctors were adamant everything about the baby was perfect. You heard the heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor, you opted in for genetic testing. 

They were less convinced about your own prognosis. 

One day, you and Bob left an appointment and drove home in silence. You excused yourself to go outside, read in the backyard. 

When you crept inside an hour later, you heard soft sobs coming from the direction of the nursery. 

Your heart squeezed as you tiptoed nearer, Bob’s soft cries plainly heard through the cracked door. The nursery wasn’t finished. You still needed to get a glider and a dresser for a changing table, and you hadn’t bought nearly enough clothes so there were just empty tiny hangers in the closet. 

Bob sat on the floor near the crib, the one item of furniture you had managed to buy, his face buried in his hands. You watched from the doorway as his shoulders shook. The way he tried to silence himself. 

He couldn’t even hear you over his own tears as you made your way across the room, putting one hand on his shoulder. Bob startled under your touch, refusing to look at you until he wiped under his eyes furiously. 

“Bobby?” you whispered softly. 

He shook his head. “I’m fine. What do you want for dinner, darlin’?” 

“You’re not fine,” you said, sitting down next to him, one of your thighs overlapping his. You ran a thumb beneath his eyes, flicking away the tears. His glasses were smudged and foggy and you felt your heart break. “It’s OK, you know,” you whispered. “It’s OK not to be fine. It’s OK to be sad. It’s OK to mourn the things we’ll never have.” 

“How is any of this OK?” he demanded. 

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Why did you wait so long?” His voice was climbing. Anger poured out of him. You would take the anger over the sadness. “To tell me? We could have had more time.”

You shook your head. “We had as much time as we needed,” you murmured. 

“No amount of time is enough,” Bob insisted, his hands warm in yours. “It’ll never be enough.” 

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “Let’s just be happy with what we have,” you said softly. “I’ll love you forever, Bobby. No matter what.” 

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[cap-winter-barnes]

He’s A Loser (Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader)

Y/N is Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw’s little sister and he’s finally introduced her to the rest of Dagger Squad. What neither of them anticipated was them both have an instant attraction, despite Bradley’s best efforts, the inevitable still happens.

Part Two

Warnings: swearing

The Hard Deck is overflowing with men and women in uniform, which is why you stick out like a sore thumb. Bradley told you to keep it casual, but how could you keep it casual when you were the only one not dressed in khaki. You toy with the hem of your blouse as you search the packed out bar for your brother and his aviator friends.

“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” Bradley spotted you first, not that it was difficult with your attire. Laid back as usual, your brother lounges against the side of the snooker table, cue in hand and a big smile on his face. “Everyone, this is Y/N! Y/N this is Dagger!” There’s an exchange of ‘hellos’ and introductions as you greet Bradley with a hug. The only woman of the group, Phoenix, has been waiting for the day another female joins their social gatherings and welcomes you with open arms. Yet as you chat away, you can see your older sibling glaring daggers at the men of the group who have yet to find a distraction from your arrival.

“Well, well, well…” Bradley drops his head and sighs. “If it isn’t ‘Baby Bradshaw”. That voice automatically sends shivers down your spine, there’s only one man that could cause that reaction in Bradley Bradshaw. You’d been given the run down on the infamous ‘Hangman’, with your brother warning you about his cocky ego. But when you turn to meet him yourself, you don’t expect for him to be as handsome as he is. His uniform barely containing his toned arms. Meeting his eyes, you can’t help but smile as you soak in the green of his gaze.

“And you must be Hangman?” You reach out a hand to shake, and it appears you’re not what he was expecting either as he trails his eyes over you before taking your hand in his. Now you’re not one for cliches but you could swear you feel a shock of electricity through his touch. When you meet his eyes again, it seems he felt the same.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Before you can respond, Bradley is shouldering his way between the two of you, his overprotective big brother personality shining through once again. “Rooster?”

“What did I tell you Bagman? Hmm?” Hangman raises his hands in surrender and backs away. “That’s what I thought.”

“Brad, what the fuck?” You can feel your anger simmering, you love your brother dearly but you’re a grown woman, you can stand up for and look after yourself.

“He’s a loser. Don’t even think about it.”

“I-“

“I said what I said, Y/N. Don’t.”

It doesn't take long for your brother to drink enough to get distracted by pretty girls on the other side of the bar. Jake takes the opportunity to sneak a conversation with you beside the jukebox, a whisky in his hand and a smile on his face.

"So Baby Bradshaw..."

"Are you really going to keep calling me that... Hangman?" He chuckles at your retort.

"Would you prefer, Baby Girl, instead?" You flush at his words as you take your lower lip between your front teeth. It's not often that you find yourself at a loss for words, yet here Jake Seresin stands making you tongue-tied. "I'm taking that as a yes."

"You are such a flirt, Seresin." His eyebrow lifts as you use his surname. "You talk to all the girls like this?" He's never met a woman quite like you and it's safe to say that he's falling deep already.

"No, ma'am. Only the beautiful young lady who just so happens to be the baby sister of my dear old pal, Rooster." Whisky glass discarded, Jake's now empty hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. "And no one could ever compare to a woman like her."

"Oh you are smooth." Your hands trail up his chest, nails scraping against the material of his uniform. The feel of his heart hammering in his chest thumps against your palms. You don't dare let him go, wanting to soak in his touch for as long as you possibly can. "So are you going to kiss me or not Hangman?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Part Two

______________________________________________________________

Okay, so I'm thinking of doing a Part 2 for this? I'd love to know what you guys think, so please let me know - I'm super excited to carry this one on but wanted to give you all a little taster first.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

read part two here

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

*

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family. 

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy. 

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things. 

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?” 

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice. 

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner. 

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar. 

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ. 

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots? 

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you. 

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you. 

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why. 

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor. 

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony. 

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception. 

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too. 

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated. 

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you. 

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed. 

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered. 

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff. 

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot. 

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question. 

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people. 

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy. 

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress. 

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced. 

God, he wants to kiss you.  

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention. 

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you. 

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look. 

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them. 

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride. 

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.” 

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom. 

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne. 

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him. 

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.” 

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights. 

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back. 

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you. 

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room. 

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling. 

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face. 

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again. 

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him. 

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers. 

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile. 

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him. 

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and  watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine. 

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between. 

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him. 

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust. 

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high. 

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better. 

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense. 

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.” 

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute. 

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room. 

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip. 

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket. 

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom. 

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom. 

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming. 

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake. 

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely. 

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words. 

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you. 

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute. 

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint. 

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

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Thank you for reading! x

Part two

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

[roosterforme]

Don't Waste Another Minute | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you finally recognize that you have been hanging onto your relationship for all the wrong reasons, you end things. You knew there would be someone better for you, and it was a welcome realization to see that he had been right there in front of you the whole time. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, asshole Jake, drunk Jake, reader dumps Jake, crude language, alcohol, swears

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @mak-32

As soon as you told Jake that you thought he'd had enough to drink for one night, he called you a bitch for the fifth time. It was mortifying. Because this time your boyfriend said it in front of his friends instead of just quietly whispering, "I'm gonna need you to stop acting like a bitch."

The area around the pool table went quiet, and it took everything inside you to keep your head held high. His friends weren't the ones who had to deal with the aftermath of angry, drunk Jake. You were. They weren't constantly getting yelled at for hiding his keys when he couldn't walk straight. And they weren't driving around in a car that still smelled horrendous weeks after he threw up a bottle of Jack Daniels next to the center console. You were. 

Your lips were shaking as you met his glassy, green eyes. And then Bradley Bradshaw stepped forward and put a hand on Jake's shoulder. "That's not cool, Hangman," he said, his voice deep and angry. He set down the bottle of beer he had been nursing and met your eyes with chocolate brown ones that somehow made you feel a little more grounded. Then he added, "I think you should apologize to your girl."

Just as Jake scoffed, you returned your attention fully to him. You pressed your lips together until you were sure you could speak without making a fool out of yourself. "No. I'm not his girl. It's been a long time since that was something I wanted to be. I can't do this anymore, Jake." 

As you dug his car keys out of your pocket, he slurred, "I should have dumped you months ago. You don't even know how to have fun. You're just a stuck up bitch."

You tried your best to ignore him as you handed his keys to Javy and softly asked, "Can you make sure he gets back to his place safely?"

"I will," he promised, nodding at you. Then you glanced around the group of aviators you had become fond of over the past several months since Jake first brought you here. You were going to miss them, especially Bradley and the soft smiles he always gave you. And the way he just stood up for you. 

But right now his handsome face looked stony as he shook his head at Jake. You ran your hand along Bradley's arm and tried your best to smile at him as you left the group and started to dig your phone out of your pocket. "Bye," you whispered to nobody in particular. You'd get an Uber and go back to your place and snuggle up in bed, and you'd be fine. You knew you would. 

As you headed for the door, you heard Bradley angrily say, "I wish you would have had the balls to dump her months ago. She's too good for you."

That made you smile as you pushed the door open and let the cool night air and the sound of the ocean wipe your senses clean. If you were being honest with yourself, you probably only stayed with Jake for as long as you had because you were afraid he was going to hurt himself or someone else one of these Saturday nights. The sting of embarrassment was worse right now than the pain of breaking things off with him, and that fact let you know you did the right thing.

You shivered as you looked up at the moon and the smattering of stars that were visible this close to the city. And then a massive body slammed into you, which you realized was probably your fault for standing so close to the exit. 

"Shit!" grunted a deep voice.

"I'm sorry-" you started as a big arm wrapped around you, steadying you.

"It's you," Bradley said when you looked up at him over your shoulder. "You're still here."

"Yeah... it's just me." You sounded a little breathless. You noticed you felt safer after ten seconds with his arm wrapped around you than you ever had when you were with Jake.

Bradley cleared his throat and slowly released you. "I just wanted to see if you needed a ride home. You know, since you left Jake's keys with Javy."

You turned to face him fully and took one big hand in yours before anyone else could exit the bar and slam into both of you. With wide eyes, he followed you willingly as you walked backwards toward the railing. "I'm fine," you assure him, letting go of his warm hand with an embarrassed shrug. "I'll get an Uber and have someone who didn't just witness my ex boyfriend call me a bitch before I dumped him take me home."

"He should have never said that," Bradley rasped, eyes fixed on your face. "He overdoes it on the weekends, and I'm sure he doesn't actually think you're a... well, you know. You're sweet. Everyone knows that."

You smiled softly up at him. "Thanks," you whispered. You let yourself indulge in committing to memory the way Bradley Bradshaw just said you're sweet. Because it made you feel warm inside. Then you entered your passcode and opened your Uber app, but before you could do anything else, he took your phone out of your hand. 

"Let me take you home," he said as you reached for your phone. But he tucked it behind his back. "That way I'll know you get there safely."

You reached your arms around him but he took both of your hands in his as your chest brushed the front of his shirt. "Did you put it in your back pocket?" you asked as you cocked your head to the side, only pretending to be annoyed. 

"Maybe," he replied with a grin as he squeezed your hands. "But you won't need it until I drop you at your place anyway."

You studied his face. The orange flicker of light from the lamppost in the parking lot bathed him in softness as he waited for you to respond. The only time you ever saw Bradley get drunk was on his birthday when Natasha drove him home. But he'd been funny, never crass. He'd even carried you from the jukebox over to the piano when he insisted he could do a better rendition of Changes than David Bowie. You smiled at the memory, and then he was smiling back at you.

"You just had that one beer tonight?" you asked softly, already knowing the answer. You supposed he drew your gaze more frequently than you were ready to admit. Especially in the past month or so. 

"Yeah," he replied immediately. "That's all I usually have."

"I know."

There was a beat of silence between the two of you. Your words felt like an admission, and you wanted to know how he'd respond. He laced his fingers with yours and said, "I'd never do anything to put you in danger. Been drinking just one beer on Saturday nights in case you were too far gone to get Jake and yourself home safely."

Now you weren't sure what to say. He'd been silently paying attention to you this whole time, too. No wonder you felt safe around him. "Okay," you whispered, and Bradley very hesitantly released your right hand. But you stayed close to his side, your left hand still held tight in his, and he started to head toward his Bronco.

Silently he unlocked the passenger side door and helped you climb in. "Thanks," you muttered, but then he removed his hand from yours, and you suddenly shivered as he closed the door. You thought of your apartment briefly, wondering if Jake's hoodie was hanging in your closet and thinking you'd just throw away the framed photo of the two of you in Venice Beach. It didn't really hurt to think about it, but you didn't feel the need to mourn over it either.

Then you realized Bradley had already turned right out of the parking lot and then made the first left. "You don't need directions?" you asked him as he went straight through the green light. 

He laughed softly but kept his eyes on the road. "I remember where you live. I picked the two of you up there once."

You remembered it, too. He had opened the door for you and helped you into the Bronco that night as well. He had been wearing the same shirt he had on now. And he smiled at you the same way. 

But you were still surprised he knew which street to turn down and which building was yours. "You can park in one of the visitor spots," you told him as your heart swelled with nervous excitement when he shifted into park.

Bradley paused with his hand on the key in the ignition and turned to look at you. "Will you let me walk you up?" When you nodded without hesitation, he killed the engine and smiled at you. And a few seconds later, your fingers were laced with his again. And you were climbing the stairs up to your apartment door. 

"Thanks, Bradley," you murmured, glancing up at him, unsure how to ask when you might possibly see him again after this. You didn't have his phone number, and you had no real reason to keep going back to the Hard Deck, but you wanted to see him again.

And then you felt a little embarrassed by it all. Sure, he remembered where you lived and he had been looking out for you. But you just broke up with Jake earlier tonight, even though things felt like they had been over for a lot longer. And you didn't want to rebound with his coworker of all people, especially since Bradley had you feeling like you wanted him to wrap you in his arms and make you feel safe all the time. 

And now you'd been standing in front of your door for long enough that it was about to become awkward unless one of you said something. But you were afraid the words on the tip of your tongue would be enough to shatter the moment if you said them. 

Your eyes caught on the scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed hard. "Anytime you need a ride or... anything, I'll be around," he said with one of those soft smiles. But when he went to remove his hand from yours, you wouldn't let him. And then that smile slipped as he took a step closer to you. 

You decided to say the words and shatter the moment, because you had nothing to lose. "Do you want to come in for a little while?" you asked, and Bradley was nodding immediately.

You didn't expect him to keep his hand in yours as you closed and locked the door and showed him around the small space. You'd spent time with Jake in all of these rooms, but as you listened to the deep rumble of Bradley's voice and his soft laughter, you knew you'd sooner recall these memories once he was gone. But you didn't want him to leave at all, even though it was almost midnight. 

"Do you want a glass of water?" you asked him.

"Sure," he replied so quickly, both of you laughed. And then he commented on the books you'd left out on your table while he drank his water very slowly.

"I have more of the books from that series in my room."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, still hovering close by. "I only read the first two."

You simply took him by the hand again, and he went along with you, leaving the glass of water behind. When you paused in your bedroom doorway and reached in to turn on the light, you laughed and said, "You still have my phone in your pocket."

"I know," he replied, his gaze dipping down toward the floor as he blushed. "I've been holding it captive, trying to figure out a way to ask you for your number."

"Really?" you asked, stepping closer and coaxing his gaze up to yours. 

He nodded as he squeezed your hand again. "Feels like some sort of violation of guy code if I ask for it the same night you broke up with Jake. But I really don't want to leave here until I shoot my shot."

You gasped. Bradley Bradshaw. Wanted to shoot his shot. With you. "Shoot it," you said so softly, you weren't sure if he even heard you. But then his eyes went a little wide, and that smile you liked so much was back. 

"Alright." He cleared his throat and chuckled, cheeks still pink as he said, "Hey, so, here's the thing. I've actually had a massive crush on you for months. And I'd love to get your phone number. And I realize that you just got out of a relationship, so I don't mind waiting a few weeks to use it."

You were still holding hands as you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then his free arm wrapped around your waist. You kissed the edge of his mustache, and his fingers flexed against your back. "You can have my number, Bradley."

He sucked in a deep breath as you kissed his cheek again. "Okay. Cool. That's good. And uh... how long do you think I should wait before I call you?" he asked, and you couldn't tell if he sounded more nervous or more excited. 

"You could call me tomorrow," you whispered, still amazed at how safe you felt around him. "Or you could stay a little longer. Maybe we can start the third book in the series? If you want to."

"I want to," he said softly and immediately. "I want to do both. Call you tomorrow and stay a little longer."

When you tugged him toward the bookshelf next to your bed, he followed, his eyes on you as you reached for the third book. You toed your shoes off and kicked them aside as you asked, "You coming?" Then you crawled across your bed, leaving room for Bradley. 

He only hesitated for a second before he yanked both shoes off and placed them near yours. Then the sight of him easing himself onto your bed and slowly settling back against the headboard next to you left you aching to put your lips on his face again. He was giving you that same warm smile he always did, and now you realized you'd been craving these glances in your direction for a long time. You'd been seeking out his smile at the bar and at barbeques and on beach days. 

He cleared his throat a little nervously, probably because you were staring at him now. "Do you want me to read it out loud?" he asked, his voice so raspy, it set off goosebumps along your arms. You replied by setting the book on his lap and scooting a little closer, because you wanted to shoot your shot, too.

"In a minute." You brought your hand up to his face and brushed his stubbled, rosy cheek with your fingers before you kissed his lips. And it was just that simple. A soft press of your lips against his, and you were in the midst of the best kiss of your life. Not necessarily the needy kind where you wanted to tear his clothes off, but the kind where you were aware of every nerve ending in your body. But you already knew, if you let them, your feelings for Bradley would escalate into more.

With your forehead resting on his and your lips hovering over his mustache, you smiled and said, "Okay, now you can read the book."

He laughed softly and kissed you one more time before you eased yourself away from him. Then you curled up against his side, and he brought his arm around you as you helped him hold the book open. Nothing could have prepared you for listening to the words of your favorite story read in his voice. You barely moved, your lips pressed together as his steady, deep voice and his warm scent had you slowly melting. 

Bradley read and turned the pages one handed, your cheek on his shoulder and your arm creeping around his midsection. You had no idea how much time had passed when he whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

You didn't. It had been forever since you felt like this. Comfortable and safe. Maybe you'd never felt this way before. Like you were absolutely certain this man wouldn't hurt you. Like you were sure he'd never call you a bitch in front of his friends or in private. But you didn't know if it was okay to keep holding onto him. 

"You can take the book home with you," you told him as you sat up slightly. But he made no move to get out of your bed, and you didn't ask him to. So you just settled right back where you were, and you felt Bradley's lips brush along your hair as you fell asleep. 

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

Loud, angry pounding noises did not belong here right now. No, Bradley was enjoying sleeping on a soft cloud with his dream girl snuggled up next to him. Everything was warm and perfect and smelled nice. Why was there still pounding? He cracked his eyes open to find you starting to stir next to him. You stretched and made a cute little noise as your chest bumped his ribs, and then your eyes opened wide.

"Oh," you gasped, quickly pulling your arm away from where it had been thrown over his midsection. "Bradley." Your voice was a combination of surprise, disbelief and pleasure, and he wanted to make sure you were okay with the impromptu sleepover, but there was still someone pounding on your front door.

He cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy from sleep as he said, "You want me to go yell at whoever that is?"

"No," you replied as you climbed on top of him and kissed his lips. Bradley wanted to put his hands everywhere on you, but he kept them at his sides, still unsure about what he was allowed to do right now. "I'll be right back. You stay here."

Then you were out of bed and across the room, glancing back with a smile before you vanished through the door. Bradley's heart was pounding as he let his head sink back against your pillow. Okay, he needed to play this cool. He couldn't fuck this up. He'd been waiting months for you to realize Jake wasn't good enough for you, and he'd been spending months trying to make sure he would be, given the opportunity.

Your phone was still in his back pocket along with his, and he pulled them out to check the time. But when he looked at your lock screen, he saw that you had seventeen missed texts from Jake. And now he thought he heard Jake's voice in your living room. 

Bradley was out of bed instantly when he heard you ask, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I came to apologize, but it looks like you should be the one apologizing to me." That was definitely Jake's voice, and he was definitely pissed off. 

"I don't know what you mean, Jake," you said as Bradley walked slowly down your hallway. He shoved both phones in his pocket and kept himself out of sight. "If you want to apologize for constantly calling me a bitch, then go ahead. Otherwise, just leave."

Jake laughed in a way that made Bradley's hands clench into fists. "You got a lot of nerve talking to me like you think I'm stupid. I saw his Bronco outside. I know he's here." Bradley squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath, and then Jake loudly said, "I knew you were a bitch. How long you been fucking Bradshaw?"

"I'm not," you insisted, your voice shaking. And as much as Bradley had loved reading your book to you and snuggling in your bed all night, now he wished he hadn't stayed. Because you didn't deserve this. 

"You really expect me to believe that?" Jake asked you maliciously. "Where is he, you fucking slut?"

"Don't you dare call her that," Bradley practically growled as he stormed into the living room. Jake was standing too close to you, and he didn't like that. But you were standing your ground as you turned to look at Bradley with some tears shimmering in your eyes. "I never touched her, and she never touched me. So just apologize or leave."

"Fuck you, Bradshaw," Jake spat. "I don't have to listen to a single fucking think you say."

"Get out of my apartment," you demanded. "I dumped you last night for a reason: you drink too much, and you're mean to me. And it was a long time coming. Just go."

Bradley could sense Jake's hesitation, so he took a few steps closer until he was standing right behind you. He made eye contact with him, just daring him to try something. Because Bradley wasn't in the mood to listen to him saying nasty shit about you, especially not when Jake interrupted the start of something so perfect. 

"Go," you repeated. Jake looked you up and down from head to toe and shook his head before he finally turned and slammed your front door behind him. 

"Are you okay?" Bradley asked softly, wishing he knew if it was okay to touch you. 

"Yeah," you whispered before turning and throwing your arms around his neck. 

Bradley let his hands settle on your waist as you looked up at him with bright eyes. He didn't feel bad about stepping on Jake's toes any longer. "I'm sorry if I made things worse for you by being here. But I can't really bring myself to apologize for falling asleep with you, because I liked it so much."

You laughed. It was the prettiest sound. And then you kissed him again with more heat this time, and Bradley had to convince himself to do this the right way. "Hey," he whispered as he broke the kiss. "I still need your phone number."

"Okay," you replied, and you whispered it to him as he entered it into his phone contacts. 

"Okay," he echoed as he handed your phone over for the first time since he took it from you outside the Hard Deck. You didn't even flinch as you swiped away the texts from Jake. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You ready?"

"I'm ready," you told him with a hesitant smile.

He kissed you one more time before he started to back away toward your front door. "I'm gonna go, but I'll call you."

"You better," you replied, and your smile was a little more sure now. 

"I will," he promised. "Just wait." Then he opened the door and closed it behind him as he tapped your name on his phone screen. 

You answered immediately, a giggle in your voice. "Hi, Bradley."

"Hey, so you know how you said I could call you today?"

"Yes," you replied, clearly smiling. "I do recall saying that."

"Great. So I was thinking I'd head home quick to get changed, and then I could come pick you up? Maybe we could get breakfast burritos and coffee from Lucy's Takeout? Go sit on the beach with the book?"

There was a beat of silence before you said, "That sounds nice."

"Then it's a date."

Bradley was all smiles as he ended the call and knocked on your door. When you opened it a second later, he leaned in and kissed you. "I actually need my shoes," he murmured against your lips, and you started laughing. 

"Wait here," you told him before you dashed toward your room and then returned holding his shoes and the book. Bradley slipped his shoes on and took the book in one hand as he pulled you close with the other.

"I'll be right back. Like seriously, it'll be embarrassing how quickly I get back here."

You buried your face against his chest and whispered, "It'll be embarrassing how much that makes me smile."

He had to force himself to leave after that, because the sooner he got back to you, the sooner he could start making you his.

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

Just imagine Bradley reading a book to you on the beach while also feeding you breakfast. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[callsigns-haze]

You knew? Part 1 of 3

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace

Chapter Summary: In a clever setup orchestrated by Hangman and Phoenix, Rooster and Ace, two colleagues with a tense relationship, unknowingly begin exchanging flirtatious emails under anonymous identities. As they bond over shared work frustrations, they eventually realize they’ve been emailing each other all along. The discovery leads to frustration and anger, particularly from Ace, who feels betrayed by Hangman’s manipulation. The revelation complicates their already strained relationship.

Warning: This story includes themes of manipulation and workplace tension, leading to conflicts and personal revelations.

The sun beat down on NAS North Island as jets roared across the sky, the rhythmic hum of engines echoing throughout the base. Inside the hangar, pilots and crew members moved with practiced ease, their chatter blending with the distant sound of drills.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw sat on a bench in the locker room, his flight suit unzipped to his waist. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his tousled hair, his thoughts far from the noise around him. Lately, a gnawing sense of loneliness had settled in, one he couldn't quite shake.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door swung open with a bang. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace rushed in, her boots skidding slightly on the polished floor. There was a determined look in her eyes, one Rooster knew all too well—she was on a mission.

"Rooster, got a minute?" she asked, barely giving him time to respond before thrusting a crumpled piece of paper into his hand.

He frowned, unfolding the note to reveal an email address scrawled in neat handwriting. Confusion crossed his face as he looked up at Phoenix. "What's this?"

"An email address," Phoenix replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I know you can be slow sometimes, but I didn’t think I’d have to explain that part."

Rooster rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. "I can see that. But whose?"

Phoenix crossed her arms, her expression turning serious. "Listen, I’ve seen you moping around here, and frankly, it’s pathetic. You're my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. So, I talked to a friend of mine—a good one—and got her email for you. The only rule is, you can’t ask her name. And she won’t ask for yours either."

Rooster blinked, taken aback. "You’re setting me up? Since when did you become a matchmaker?"

"Since you started acting like a lovesick puppy," Phoenix shot back, her tone teasing but her eyes sincere. "Look, just email her. No expectations, no pressure. Just talk. See where it goes."

Rooster glanced down at the email again, something about the mystery of it intriguing him. He’d never done anything like this before, and maybe that was exactly why he should give it a try.

"Alright," he finally said, tucking the paper into his pocket. "I’ll do it. But if this turns out to be some weird prank, I’m coming after you."

Phoenix laughed, the tension easing between them. "Trust me, Rooster. You might actually thank me for this one. Just don’t try to figure out who she is. Let it happen."

As Rooster watched her leave, he felt a strange mix of anticipation and curiosity. Maybe this was what he needed after all—a chance to connect with someone new, without the weight of the past hanging over him.

Across the base, in another part of the hangar, Y/N Y/L/N, known by her call sign "Ace," was finishing up a maintenance check on her jet. She wiped the sweat from her brow, satisfied with the day's work, when Jake "Hangman" Seresin approached her, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Ace," he called out, waving a folded piece of paper in the air as he jogged over.

She raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. "What’s with the look, Seresin?"

He handed her the paper with a flourish, like he was presenting her with a winning lottery ticket. "Just a little something I thought you might appreciate. It’s an email address."

Ace unfolded the paper, eyeing the email address written there. "Whose is it?"

"That’s the fun part," Hangman replied, leaning against the jet with a smirk. "I know you’ve been keeping to yourself lately, and I figured you could use a distraction. So, I talked to a buddy of mine and got you this. The only rule is, you can’t ask him who he is, and he can’t ask about you. Just email him. See what happens."

Ace looked at the email address again, her curiosity piqued despite herself. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious," Hangman said, his voice uncharacteristically sincere. "No games, no strings. Just an honest chance to connect with someone. What do you say?"

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, folding the paper and slipping it into her pocket. "Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But if this is your idea of a joke, Seresin, I’m not going to be happy."

Hangman laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Scout’s honour, Ace. I think you’ll like this one."

As he walked away, Ace couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. The anonymity of it, the chance to talk to someone without the usual baggage—it was intriguing. Maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of surprise she needed.

---

The day was winding down as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the base. The roar of jet engines had softened, leaving a quieter hum in the air.

Ace, tired but satisfied with the day’s work, was making her way out of the hangar. She was eager to get home, her mind already turning over what she might say in that first email to the mysterious address Hangman had given her.

As she rounded a corner, focused more on her thoughts than on where she was going, she collided hard with someone coming the other way. The impact jolted her back to reality, and she instinctively gripped her helmet tighter to avoid dropping it.

"Watch where you’re going!" she snapped, the words flying out before she even registered who she’d bumped into.

Rooster, equally caught off guard, scowled as he steadied himself. "Maybe you should try not walking around with your head in the clouds," he shot back, his tone sharp.

Ace narrowed her eyes at him, irritation bubbling up immediately. Rooster was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. Their relationship had always been rocky—too much ego and too many unresolved tensions.

"You’re one to talk," she muttered, brushing past him. "I’m surprised you didn’t trip over your own ego on the way here."

Rooster rolled his eyes, not willing to let it slide. "Yeah, well, at least I don’t need to be constantly reminded which way is up."

They glared at each other for a moment longer before Ace turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Rooster behind with a bitter taste in his mouth. As she walked away, she could feel the tension still crackling in the air, but she refused to let it ruin her evening.

From across the hangar, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Jake "Hangman" Seresin watched the interaction unfold, exchanging worried glances. They had been casually chatting when they noticed their two targets—Ace and Rooster—heading straight for each other. Now, as they observed the icy exchange, Phoenix let out a sigh.

"Well, that went about as well as a mid-air collision," she murmured, shaking her head.

Hangman chuckled nervously, though his usual confidence was tinged with doubt. "Yeah, I’m starting to think this might have been a bad idea. They can barely be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off."

Phoenix crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Maybe… or maybe this is exactly what they need. You know how it is—sometimes the people who push each other’s buttons the most are the ones who end up surprising you."

Hangman shrugged, though he still looked uncertain. "I hope you’re right, because if this backfires, we’re both going to hear about it for the rest of our lives."

Phoenix smirked, her confidence returning. "Trust me, Hangman. We’ve seen stranger things happen around here."

-

Ace slid into the driver’s seat of her car, tossing her helmet onto the passenger seat with a frustrated huff. The encounter with Rooster still lingered in her mind, but she wasn’t going to let it bother her. Not tonight.

She pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with the email address, staring at it for a moment before finally unlocking her phone. With a deep breath, she opened a new message and began typing, her fingers moving more quickly as she decided what to say.

Hey there, she started, keeping it simple. I’m not sure how this whole thing is supposed to work, but I guess we’re both in the same boat. So, here’s to whatever comes next.

She hesitated for a moment, then hit send before she could second-guess herself. Leaning back in her seat, she let out a slow breath, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves.

-

Back at his apartment, Rooster had just kicked off his boots and was settling in when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when he saw a new email notification.

Curious, he opened it and read the message, a grin slowly spreading across his face. The casual tone, the uncertainty—it was refreshing. Whoever this person was, they weren’t overthinking it, and he liked that.

Hey yourself, he typed back, his mood lightening as he responded. I’m not sure how this is supposed to go either, but I’m game to find out. Let’s see where this takes us.

He hit send, feeling a flicker of excitement. There was something fun about the anonymity of it all—no names, no faces, just two people connecting through words.

As he leaned back, waiting to see if they’d reply, he had no idea that the person on the other end was the very same pilot he’d just butted heads with. And for now, maybe that was for the best.

-

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace sat on her couch, feet tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her emails. The mystery contact had quickly become the highlight of her evening, a welcome distraction from the routine of her day. She opened his latest email with a sense of anticipation.

Hey yourself, it began. I’m not sure how this is supposed to go either, but I’m game to find out. Let’s see where this takes us.

She couldn’t help but smile. There was something refreshing about this—no expectations, no judgments, just a conversation. She quickly typed a response.

Well, I guess we’re both in uncharted territory here. So, let’s start simple—how was your day?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster kicked back on his couch, his phone in hand. The quiet of his apartment felt more bearable with the company of his mystery emailer. When her reply came through, he read it with a growing interest.

Pretty standard—flew a few maneuvers, avoided crashing into anyone, and had a less-than-pleasant encounter with someone who seems to think they own the sky. You?

He chuckled to himself before typing back.

Sounds like a typical day in our line of work. As for me, I spent most of my day fixing things up and trying not to lose my patience with a certain someone who seems to thrive on pushing my buttons.

ACE’S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT

Ace read his email and felt a spark of curiosity. The way he talked about his day sounded oddly familiar, like they might have more in common than she’d initially thought. She responded with a hint of playfulness.

Fixing things up? Sounds like we might work in the same field. My day involved some pretty similar frustrations—mostly with equipment, though a few people came close. What’s the most interesting part of your job?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT

Rooster raised an eyebrow as he read her reply. Was it possible they worked in the same industry? The thought intrigued him, but he decided to keep it vague.

The most interesting part? Probably the high-stakes situations. There’s nothing quite like the rush you get when everything’s on the line. What about you?

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Ace’s curiosity deepened. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they might be closer in their professional lives than either of them realized. She replied with a smile.

I’d have to agree with that. There’s something addictive about the adrenaline, the way you have to think on your feet. It’s not for everyone, but it definitely keeps things interesting. Ever have a moment where you thought, ‘This is it, this is why I do this’?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Rooster felt a connection growing with this mystery person. The way she described the job, the adrenaline—it all resonated with him.

Definitely. There’ve been a few moments where it all comes together, and you remember why you signed up in the first place. It’s those moments that make the tough days worth it. Sounds like you know exactly what I mean.

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Ace smiled at the screen. There was an undeniable connection between them, something that went beyond the surface.

I do. It’s the reason we keep coming back, isn’t it? The rush, the challenge. So, what’s your favorite part of the day—when you’re up there, or when you’re down here figuring it all out?

She hit send, the thrill of the conversation growing with each exchange.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Rooster read her email, feeling that same thrill. It was like they were dancing around the details, both aware they were probably in the same line of work, but neither willing to say too much.

Honestly? It’s a bit of both. I love the freedom and the rush of being up there, but there’s something satisfying about the process of figuring things out down here too. You?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace’s heart raced as she typed her response, the anonymity of their conversation adding to the excitement.

Same here. There’s a balance to it that I love. The thrill of being in the thick of it, and the quiet satisfaction of making sure everything runs smoothly when it’s all over. I guess you could say it’s a perfect mix of chaos and control.

She sent the message, feeling more connected to this stranger than she had to anyone in a long time.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Rooster read her reply, a grin spreading across his face. There was no denying it now—they were definitely in the same field. He wondered if they’d ever crossed paths without even knowing it.

Couldn’t have said it better myself. There’s something about that mix that’s just right. Maybe one day we’ll get the chance to compare notes in person—who knows?

He sent the email, his curiosity about her growing with every word.

ACE’S APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Ace’s pulse quickened as she read his last message. The thought of meeting him, of finding out who he was, sent a thrill through her.

Maybe we will. It’s a small world, after all. In the meantime, I’m enjoying getting to know you through these little windows into each other’s lives. Who knew this would turn out to be so fun?

She sent the message, already eager to see what he’d say next.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Rooster leaned back, thinking about how surreal this all was. There was something almost magical about connecting with someone this way, without even knowing their name.

I have to admit, I’m enjoying it too. There’s something about the mystery that makes it all the more interesting. Who knows where this might lead?

He sent the message, his mind racing with possibilities. The night had turned out far better than he could have imagined.

---

The sun had barely risen over the base, casting a soft, golden light across the tarmac. Jets stood in neat rows, their sleek forms gleaming under the morning sun. The day was just beginning, but already there was a sense of energy in the air—a mix of anticipation and routine that every pilot knew well.

Ace arrived at the hangar, her steps quick and determined. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, especially not after the strange, unexpected thrill of the email exchange last night. She had stayed up far too late, caught up in the banter with her mystery contact, and now she was paying for it. Her mind was still partially back in that conversation, trying to piece together who the person on the other end might be.

But her focus snapped back to the present the moment she saw him.

Bradshaw was already there, leaning casually against one of the jets with that familiar, infuriating smirk on his face. He was chatting with a couple of other pilots, his easy laughter carrying across the hangar. As soon as he noticed her, the smirk widened.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Rooster called out, his voice dripping with mock surprise.

Ace rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring instantly. "Some of us don’t need to parade around like peacocks just to get attention, Rooster."

He pushed off from the jet and strolled toward her, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I don’t know, Ace. A little flair never hurt anyone. But I guess subtlety isn’t really your style, is it?"

She glared at him, crossing her arms. "You wouldn’t know subtlety if it flew up and hit you in the face."

Rooster chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Maybe not, but at least I don’t go around with a permanent chip on my shoulder. Lighten up, Ace. Not everything has to be a competition."

She stepped closer, refusing to back down. "When you’re around, everything is a competition. Or maybe you just don’t like losing."

Rooster’s eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and challenge. "You think I’m losing? That’s cute. Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

Ace’s jaw clenched, her irritation now fully transformed into a burning anger. "You know what, Rooster? One of these days, that ego of yours is going to get you in trouble."

He shrugged, unbothered by her words. "Maybe. But at least I won’t be the one who’s bitter and alone because I’m too stubborn to let anything slide."

Before Ace could fire back, the sound of a nearby jet engine roared to life, signalling that it was time to get to work. She shot him one last glare before turning on her heel and heading toward her plane. Rooster watched her go, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

The pilots gathered in the briefing room, a large, sterile space lined with chairs facing a wall of screens. The air was thick with the usual blend of tension and focus that accompanied every pre-flight briefing. Ace took a seat near the front, determined to focus on the mission and ignore Rooster, who had taken a seat a few rows behind her.

Phoenix stood at the front, leading the briefing with her usual no-nonsense attitude. She outlined the day’s manoeuvres and objectives, her voice calm and authoritative. But even as she spoke, she couldn’t help but notice the occasional, heated glances exchanged between Ace and Rooster.

It didn’t take long for the tension to bubble over.

Phoenix was in the middle of explaining a particularly complex manoeuverer when Rooster leaned back in his chair and spoke up, his tone casual but clearly intended to provoke.

"Some of us might need a refresher on this one. Don’t want anyone getting lost up there."

Ace stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she turned to look at him. "If you’re worried about keeping up, Rooster, maybe you should take notes."

A few of the other pilots exchanged glances, sensing the tension and doing their best to stay out of it. Phoenix sighed internally, knowing that once Ace and Rooster started, it was almost impossible to get them to stop.

"Alright, knock it off, you two," Phoenix said, her tone firm. "We’re here to work as a team, not to see who can throw the best insults. Save it for after the mission."

Ace bit back a retort, forcing herself to focus on the briefing instead of the urge to wipe that smug look off Rooster’s face. Rooster, for his part, simply leaned back and smirked, satisfied that he had gotten under her skin once again.

The day’s exercises were intense, a series of high-speed manoeuvres designed to push the pilots to their limits. Ace was in her element, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she focused on every turn, every dive. But no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t completely block out the presence of Rooster’s jet nearby.

Every time she checked her radar or adjusted her position, there he was—always close, always just a little too close. It felt like he was deliberately shadowing her, testing her, trying to outmanoeuvre her at every opportunity.

"Stay in your lane, Rooster," Ace muttered under her breath, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

But it was clear from his manoeuvres that he was trying to show her up. Every roll, every dive was executed with precision, as if he was daring her to do better.

Ace grit her teeth and pushed her jet harder, determined not to let him get the upper hand. She mirrored his moves, staying right on his tail as they looped and rolled through the sky. The rivalry between them burned hotter with each passing moment, the tension building until it was almost unbearable.

But no matter how hard she pushed, Rooster was right there, matching her move for move. The frustration built up inside her until she could hardly see straight, her focus narrowing to just one thing: beating him.

When the exercises finally ended and the jets returned to base, Ace felt a wave of both relief and exhaustion. She landed her jet with a bit more force than necessary, her frustration still simmering just beneath the surface.

Back on the ground, the pilots gathered in the hangar to debrief and cool down. Ace was in the middle of checking her jet when Rooster walked by, a smug grin on his face.

"Looks like you were struggling a bit up there," he said, his tone infuriatingly casual.

Ace straightened up, fixing him with a cold stare. "I wasn’t struggling. But it’s cute that you think so."

Rooster shrugged, clearly unfazed. "If you say so. Maybe next time you’ll actually keep up."

Ace stepped closer, her frustration boiling over. "I don’t need to keep up with you, Rooster. If anything, you’re the one who’s slowing me down."

His grin widened, as if her anger was just what he’d been hoping for. "Slowing you down? Maybe you’re just not as fast as you think."

The two stood toe to toe, the tension between them crackling in the air. It was always like this—one little comment, one tiny spark, and they were at each other’s throats. Neither was willing to back down, and it was only a matter of time before one of them said something they couldn’t take back.

But before it could escalate any further, Phoenix walked over, her expression exasperated.

"Will you two knock it off already?" she said, stepping between them. "We’ve got enough to deal with today without you two bickering like school kids."

Ace took a deep breath, forcing herself to step back. Rooster, too, backed off, though the smug look never left his face.

"Fine," Ace muttered, turning her attention back to her jet. "Just stay out of my way."

Rooster gave a mock salute, his smirk still in place. "Whatever you say, Ace."

As he walked away, Ace’s frustration simmered, but she forced herself to focus on her work. She didn’t have time to let Rooster get under her skin—not when there was so much at stake.

But no matter how hard she tried to ignore him, the tension between them was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to flare up at a moment’s notice.

The day had been long, and by the time Ace returned to her quarters, she was exhausted. Her body was sore, her mind was racing, and all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. But as she sat on the edge of her bed, her phone buzzed with a new email notification.

She picked it up, her mood lightening slightly as she saw it was from her mystery contact. The memory of their flirtatious exchange the night before brought a small smile to her lips, a welcome distraction from the frustrations of the day.

Hey there, the email read. How was your day?

She sighed, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she considered how to respond. Part of her wanted to vent about Rooster, about how infuriating he was, but she held back. She didn’t want to taint this connection with the negativity that seemed to follow her

---

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster was sprawled out on his couch, his guitar resting on his lap as he strummed absentmindedly. The buzz of his phone drew him out of his musings. He saw the email from his mystery contact and smiled, eager for a distraction from his day.

Hey there! My day was pretty intense. Spent most of it dealing with some annoying issues at work and got into a few heated exchanges. How about you?

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his response and couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed like they were both having a tough day. She typed back, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard.

Intense is definitely the word for it. I had a rough day with some tricky equipment and a certain pilot who seems to think he’s invincible. But enough about me—what’s your idea of a perfect way to unwind after a day like that?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster’s smile widened as he read her email. Her mention of a troublesome pilot made him wonder if they might be talking about the same person, but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he focused on her question.

Ah, a perfect way to unwind? I’d say a good jam session or maybe just kicking back with a favourite movie. Something that takes my mind off the chaos of the day. What about you? Any special routines to shake off the stress?

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace considered his response while taking a sip from her cup of tea. His laid-back approach to winding down was something she could relate to. She quickly typed her reply.

Sounds pretty good. For me, it’s usually a mix of hitting the gym or getting lost in a good book. Sometimes, a good meal with friends can do wonders too. It’s nice to have a little routine to fall back on after a hectic day.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster liked the idea of winding down with friends—it was a nice contrast to the solitary nature of his typical evenings. He began typing his response with a relaxed grin.

Sounds like you’ve got a pretty solid routine. I’ve got to say, a good meal with friends sounds like something I could use more of. Maybe I should work on that. Anyway, what kind of books are you into? I’m always looking for recommendations.

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace’s interest was piqued by his question. She enjoyed talking about books and was happy to share her favorites.

I’m a bit of a mix—I love thrillers and mysteries, but I also have a soft spot for classic literature. Recently, I’ve been diving into some historical fiction. How about you? What’s your go-to genre?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster read her email with interest. Her love for thrillers and classic literature was something he could relate to, though his tastes leaned a little differently.

I’m a fan of thrillers myself, though I’ve been known to get into sci-fi and fantasy from time to time. It’s always nice to escape into a different world for a while. Historical fiction sounds intriguing, though. I might need to check that out.

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Ace felt a genuine connection through their exchange. She was enjoying this conversation more than she’d expected. She responded with a hint of her playful side.

Sci-fi and fantasy, huh? That’s a pretty interesting mix. You might have to convince me that they’re worth diving into. And if you ever need a book recommendation, just let me know. I might have a few hidden gems up my sleeve.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Rooster’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he read her playful offer. He liked the idea of her recommending books—it felt like a little inside joke between them.

I’ll definitely take you up on that. And I’m always up for a good book challenge. Just don’t be too surprised if I end up recommending a few sci-fi classics in return. It’s all part of the fun, right?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace’s smile grew as she read his response. The playful banter was exactly what she needed after a long day. She decided to keep the momentum going.

Challenge accepted. I’m ready for your recommendations anytime. And who knows, maybe we’ll end up with a shared list of must-reads by the end of this.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Rooster’s grin widened. He liked the idea of a book exchange and was intrigued by the way their conversation was flowing. He typed his last message of the night.

Looking forward to it. It’s nice to have something to look forward to, especially after a day like today. Here’s to new books and unexpected connections. Talk soon?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace finished her tea and read his message with satisfaction. She felt a genuine connection growing and was looking forward to continuing the conversation.

Definitely. Here’s to more chats and less stress. I’ll be here.

She sent the email and closed her laptop, feeling a sense of calm settle over her. The mystery contact was turning out to be a much-needed bright spot in her hectic life.

---

The hangar was alive with the usual pre-flight activity. Rooster was inspecting his jet, but his attention kept drifting towards Ace, who was absorbed in her tablet. Her brows were furrowed, and she seemed completely engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Rooster, never one to miss an opportunity, strolled over with a casual swagger, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey, Ace,” he called out, his tone light but laced with teasing. “Looks like you’re pretty absorbed over there. Texting someone special, are we?”

Ace glanced up, her expression a mix of irritation and surprise. “What’s it to you, Rooster?”

Rooster leaned in a little closer, clearly enjoying the moment. “Just curious. I saw you typing away like your life depends on it. You’ve got to be talking to someone pretty important, right? A special someone, maybe?”

Ace’s eyes narrowed as she tried to hide the screen of her tablet. “It’s none of your business. Can’t you just focus on your own stuff?”

Rooster’s grin widened. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so secretive. I’m just wondering if you’re setting up a hot date or maybe just chatting with a certain someone who’s been on your mind.”

Ace’s face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Seriously, Rooster? Not everything’s a joke. I’m just dealing with some work stuff.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying riling her up. “Work stuff, huh? If it’s work, why’re you so secretive? You can tell me. I promise I won’t judge. Or is it that you’re afraid I might find out it’s someone...well, let’s say, more interesting?”

Ace’s frustration peaked. She shoved her tablet into her bag and took a step toward Rooster, her voice low but fierce. “You’ve been on my case all morning. If you don’t back off, I swear—”

Rooster chuckled, stepping back slightly. “Whoa, calm down there. I’m just making conversation. Didn’t realize you’d be so touchy about it. Guess it’s a sensitive topic.”

Before Ace could respond, Phoenix and the other squad members noticed the growing tension. Phoenix stepped in, her expression serious. “Alright, enough. If you two can’t handle a little teasing without it escalating, I’m going to have to step in.”

Hangman and Coyote, catching the edge in Phoenix’s tone, moved closer. Coyote placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder, gently pulling her back. “Hey, Ace, take a breath. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

Hangman approached Rooster, his expression one of mixed amusement and exasperation. “Rooster, you’re really pushing it today. Maybe give it a rest, huh?”

Ace, still seething, shook her head. “I’m done with this. I just want to get through the day without dealing with his nonsense.”

Rooster, now more subdued but still smirking, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Fanboy and Bob, who had been watching from a distance, approached to help defuse the situation. Fanboy clapped Rooster on the shoulder. “Come on, man. Let’s focus on the mission.”

Bob nodded in agreement, glancing at Ace with concern. “Everyone needs to stay cool. We’ve got enough on our plates without adding personal drama to the mix.”

As the squad began to gather for the briefing, the tension between Ace and Rooster lingered, but they both knew they had to refocus. Phoenix took a deep breath, addressing the group. “Let’s all get it together. We’ve got a briefing coming up, and we need to be professional.”

Ace and Rooster, now separated by the intervention of their teammates, walked toward the briefing room, the earlier animosity still simmering but temporarily set aside. The squad’s intervention had helped to de-escalate the situation, but the morning’s drama left a mark on everyone’s mood as they prepared for the day’s mission.

---

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace slumped onto her couch, exhausted from the day’s events. Her laptop was open, and she continued her email conversation with her anonymous contact, hoping to unwind a bit. She began typing with a mix of curiosity and irritation about the ongoing mystery.

Hey,

Today was a disaster. Had a big argument with a colleague who really knows how to get under my skin. Not the best day for me. But this email exchange has been a good distraction, I guess.

How about you? How’s your day going? Anything to share?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster read her email with a smirk. He was enjoying the light-hearted banter but was curious to see if he could draw out more information. He typed back, subtly hinting at the similarities in their work environments.

Hey,

Sounds like we’ve both had our share of drama. My day wasn’t any better—had some heated exchanges with colleagues. It’s like we’re living in the same soap opera.

I’m starting to think our work situations might be more similar than we realized. Anyway, got any funny or surprising stories from your day?

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his email with increasing suspicion. His description of his day seemed all too familiar. Deciding to push further, she typed her response, trying to get more clues about who he might be.

Hey,

It’s funny—your day sounds almost too familiar. I’m starting to wonder if we might be talking about the same environment. If you’re in a high-pressure job with lots of drama, I might have a pretty good guess about who you are.

Any hints?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster saw her email and felt a spark of recognition. He decided to give a direct clue to see if it would lead to an answer.

Hey,

Alright, here’s a hint: I work in a place where tensions are high and everyone’s on edge. Sounds like you might be in a similar boat. Does that help?

I’m curious—any idea who I might be?

INT. ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his clue and felt a sharp pang of realization. Her frustration from the day mixed with the sudden clarity about her correspondent’s identity. She quickly typed her response, her irritation clear in her words.

You’ve got to be kidding me. With your “high-pressure” job description, it’s pretty obvious that you’re Rooster. I should have known, I can’t believe I’ve been having these conversations with you, of all people.

This is ridiculous. And to think I was actually enjoying this exchange. I’m so done with this.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster’s eyes widened in shock as he read Ace’s email. The realization hit him hard, and his amusement turned into frustration. He quickly typed a reply, his tone reflecting his annoyance.

Seriously? I had a feeling, but this is just perfect. So it turns out I’ve been emailing with Ace. I should have known you’d be the one on the other end. What a surprise.

I can’t believe you were getting so worked up over these emails. Great, just great. I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about now. Or maybe not.

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace’s frustration flared as she read Rooster’s reply. She cursed under her breath, the realization that Rooster was behind the emails making her even more upset. She slammed her laptop shut, her annoyance with both Rooster and Hangman boiling over.

“Damn it, Rooster. And damn Hangman for setting this up!” she fumed. “This whole thing was a setup from the start.”

She paced the room, trying to calm herself. The surprise and anger of discovering her mystery contact was Rooster left her seething. The day had been a mess, and the email revelation only added fuel to the fire.

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