#jake pov

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter One

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious theme, Bickering, Brotherly Taunting, Uncomfortable situations, Yearning (oh the yearning) Smoking, Alcohol (it's a bar- feels self explanatory but just for safety) Shitty dad jokes, and silly goofy boy time!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Jake has spent most of his 20's single or just random dates here and there. Unfortunately for him, his brothers and their partners are all on board for trying to find him the love of his life.

Author's Note: hehe hi :) I couldn't resist any longer. I hope you love Jake as much as I do.

Beggars Song - Matt Maeson "Oh yeah, I'm a beat down, washed up, son of a bitch, I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent, but I'ma Be damned if I let it keep me down."

The soft ‘click’ of the door latching behind me as I sneak out of Willa and Quinn’s apartment. It stopped snowing a few hours ago, so the plows have had time to take care of the roads. Hopefully, they could get out of there quickly enough to make it home. I can’t be shocked that we all got roped into a slumber party, especially with Josh involved. I honestly didn’t even mind it; sometimes, spending time with everyone is nice, not in the bar. My heart was whole, watching everyone laugh and smile together. 

Their apartment complex wasn’t too far from the bar, but I don’t trust the roads enough to drive the speed limit.

‘Oh, what a night, 

Late December back in ‘63..’ 

“Oooh, this one hits,” I say as the song fills the car. Turning the volume, I tap along on my steering wheel. Taking my time, I can appreciate how the snow softly coats the trees, which kind of makes up for the lack of leaves. The sun feels extra bright today, bouncing off all the snow piles and practically making the ground light up. 

‘What a lady, what a night.’ 

“Oh, I, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room,” I quietly sing along. I’ve always been a little partial to the “oldies” as they say on the radio, but I grew up listening to all of it. Maybe I’m just a sucker for nostalgia. 

Pulling into my usual spot, ‘Oh, what a night,’ I sit for a second, contemplating whether I should run upstairs real quick or go into the bar. I probably should at least change. I’ve been in these clothes for almost twenty-four hours. 

As fast as I can, without busting my ass on the ice, I walk to the stairwell. It’s unfortunately not the most insulated, so I hustle upstairs; the first chilly days always catch you off guard.  The warmth hits me when I get into the apartment, my body letting out one last shiver, shaking the chill from outside off. 

After finding a clean button-up and switching into new pants, I feel like a new human. I take a few minutes to brush my teeth, spray myself with some cologne, and then make a cup of coffee. The warm drink on a cold day routine never misses. I scroll through my emails while waiting for my coffee to finish brewing before heading to the bar. 

The brisk air has me running down the stairs, fumbling with my keys to unlock the back door to the bar. I quickly turn the keys, hearing the heavy ‘clunk’ of the deadbolt flipping over. I scoot myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me while letting out another shiver. 

My body freezes when I hear sounds coming from the actual bar. Jesus Christ, NO. My heart rate spikes as I creep down the hallway, not wanting to give myself away. As if whoever or whatever is in here didn’t hear the door, you dumbass.  I still can’t see out into the bar, but the faint sounds are becoming much less muffled as I get closer.

“Fuck, what do we do?” 

“Just get dressed, baby. Go, go, go.” 

Is that Danny? I take a few more steps before finally seeing his tall figure standing shirtless near one of the end booths. He’s clearly buttoning his pants when I see a pair of smaller arms reach out behind him. Oh my god, Melody.  I watch as he fumbles around, trying to flip his shirt from inside out, when he turns around and locks eyes with me. I can see any ounce of life drain from his face from a mile away. 

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Still, it is realistically ten seconds before I spit out the only question I can manage to think of, “What the fuck is going on?” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Jake, really, I’m so sorry,” Dan is about to plead his case now. 

Looking at him, I take a deep breath, knowing he genuinely feels terrible about this. “It’s fine,” I say, touching his arm. 

“I will just take the day to really clean the bar, I suppose,” letting the smile sneak onto my face to ease the tension. 

He lets a small laugh, “I’ll help since it’s my bad anyway.” 

“Oh god,” I let slip. That was supposed to be an inside thought, but here we are. 

“What?” 

I silently point to the camera behind the bar. I won’t lie: Watching the emotions cycle through his face wasn’t a little funny. Melody looked wide-eyed as the realization hit her as well. 

“Oh shit, oh my god,”  

“You quite literally helped me install them,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh, “I don’t know how you forgot.” 

He runs both hands over his face before finally asking, “Can we just.. delete that.. ALL of that..please?” His voice is coated in desperation as he keeps looking over at Melody.  

“I’m certainly not going to watch it, Danny.” Relief washes over him as if he really thought I would watch that.  

“Let’s agree to never bring this up.. again.. Ever?” I cock an eyebrow at him, taking a quick glance at Melody as well. She nods aggressively.  

“What are we never bringing up?” Sam’s sing-songy tone radiates through the bar. God damn it. 

Josh’s loud voice followed suit, “Oh, I love a good secret!” Of course, he came with Sam. 

“That is between you guys and Danny,” I put my hands up, “I have cleaning I need to get done.” I look over to Dan, trying not to laugh. The look on his face is screaming that he knows he’s screwed now that Josh is here. Everybody is about to know his little secret. 

“If you need to go for a little bit, do what you need to,” I lean in and whisper to Melody as I pass her. She gives me a thumbs-up and mouths, ‘Thank you,’ as I head down the hall. 

“Goodmorning, brother,” Josh’s voice comes from behind me as I grab some cleaning supplies from our storage closet. 

“I’m surprised you guys got here this early?” 

When I left the apartment, I didn’t think anybody would be moving for quite a while. The few of us in the living room, all sleeping on the makeshift bed we crafted with extra blankets and pillows. Sam dipped at some point in the night to Willa’s bed, what a party pooper. 

“I couldn’t fall back to sleep after you left, and I heard Sam moving around,” he tells me, “We figured you could use some help getting the bar situated after last night anyway.” Reaching out to take the broom and dustpan from me. 

Surprised that they wanted to help, I quickly said, “Oh, well, thanks bub.” Not that they didn’t usually help out if I asked, but it was a bit more dependent on me asking, which I’m candidly not great at doing. 

“So, what exactly needs to be cleaned?” Sam finally caves. 

I smile at him, knowing what he’s trying to do, “Let’s just say we’re taking the opportunity to really make sure everything is clean.” Grabbing a rag and some disinfectant to start wiping everything down. 

“Well,” he instigates further, “I just didn’t know if there was like a specific booth or something.” He unsuccessfully chokes back a laugh.

Josh quickly cut him off, “I’m sure he asked for specifics,” 

I bite my tongue so as not to laugh at the argument that will start. If there’s anything I know, it’s that these two can’t help but start shit with each other. 

“It was just a question, Josh.”

“You’re just picking at him for no reason. He said we’re cleaning everything, so just clean.”

“You know why we’re cleaning. That’s why you’re being defensive,” Sam says, his voice rising as he realizes. 

Josh gasps dramatically, “You DO listen to your girlfriend. Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!” 

“Oh, fuck off,” 

Josh laughed loud: “It doesn’t take much to figure out what happened, Samuel. Just use that little brain of yours for a minute, and maybe you’ll piece it together.” 

I sit in a booth to wipe the table down, just listening to them go back and forth. Josh isn’t wrong.. If he really did just stop to think about it, he would figure it out. Or, literally, just ask Danny. I never said he couldn’t ask him.

“I’m not that stupid, I know that-” Sam starts but immediately stops when he sees Danny walk back in. 

“What are we yelling about?”

“The two of them are bickering about why we’re cleaning,” I say plainly, with my eyebrows raised and a tight-lipped smile. 

His eyes widen, clearing his throat before saying, “Yeah, uh, people were a bit frantic last night trying to get out of here when the storm started, and we also didn’t want to get stuck too long, so we just.. didn’t have time to clean.” He couldn’t be worse at lying, but I think Sam will let it slide because of how uncomfortable he looks right now. 

“Now, why couldn’t you just say that?” Sam turns, looking back over at Josh. Jesus Christ, here we go. 

“Because that’s obviously not the reason, they clearly–” 

“Good morning, Krusty Krew!” Quinn sings through the bar, thank god. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Willa asks through a laugh. 

“Yes, thank you,” I speak before the other two can. 

It’s fun to watch as they both make their way over to their respective partners. Josh and Quinn always seem like they haven’t seen each other in years, even if it’s only been 20 minutes. The way they just curl into each other at any given moment. And then there’s Sam and Willa. Her laugh radiates through a room whenever Sam is around; they constantly pick on each other about something. He presses a kiss to the side of her head before she starts to walk away, but not before he swats at her ass, and she flips him off. She’s a saint for putting up with him. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I listened to everyone’s chatter until Josh and Sam started bickering again. I motion to Danny to say that I’m going outside for a minute before grabbing a cigarette from my office. Walking out the back door in the crisp air, I pull out my lighter and try to beat the wind. That first inhale is always the most rewarding. I told myself when I left the shipyard that I would cut back; the guys I worked with were heavy smokers, and it’s easy to fall into that trap. Now, I settle for one a day, and honestly, some days, I don’t bother; I find that when I’m stressed, I tend to go for it, but I’ve stuck to my guns and not gone back to smoking aggressively. 

I walk across the street, finding my usual spot to watch the boats slowly sail out to the ocean. I like to come here when I need a moment. I’m unsure why I’m feeling more anxious today than usual, but my chest feels heavy. Why do I feel so alone?

It’s not that I can’t be alone. I obviously have made it this long without someone; I have just spent the last two years watching everyone close to me find love. I never really feel lonely because they are all part of the family at this point, but I do have days where I can’t help but be almost..jealous. My mind keeps wandering as I take another drag. Is there something I’m doing that just makes me not worthy of dating? I’ve never understood why, out of all the dates I’ve been on in the last handful of years, none of them have worked out. God, I sound so pathetic.   

I enjoy the last moments of my smoke break, forcing myself to focus on the boat coming into the dock. I can’t seem bothered when I go inside, or they’ll notice. 

Finally, making my way back inside, I see Josh and Quinn in one booth and Sam with Willa in another. They don’t seem to notice that I’ve snuck back in, so I just spend some time cleaning up and organizing behind the bar while there’s nobody to actually tend to. 

I start mindlessly wiping down the wine glasses, trying to make them as clean as possible. Josh and Quinn are in my line of sight; it’s hard not to notice how in love they are. Always sitting on the same side of any table, whether it’s a booth or a typical table setting, they’re attached at the hip. They’re always touching. Whether it’s just sitting close enough, one of them can move their leg closer, or right now, where Quinn is just tracing their finger along his jawline and down the bridge of his nose. They lean in, pressing a kiss to his nose before he tugs them in quickly for a real kiss. This is dreadful. I really can’t remember the last time I kissed someone. Am I that touch starved that I’m jealous of my brother? The squeak from the glass reminds me where I am. I shake my head, putting it back in its place and grabbing a new glass. 

I glance over to the other booth; Willa has her head propped up in her hand as she looks at my brother. Even though they instigate each other most often, it’s always with love. She has a soft smile plastered on her face as she nods to whatever he’s saying. Running his hand down her forearm every so often, it’s weird seeing Sam so.. domestic? Willa really is perfect for him, though. I knew the moment she put him in his place while on a date with SOMEONE ELSE. How she looks at him like he’s the greatest thing ever created is incredibly sweet. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can see the way her eyes light up before she calls him ‘babe.’  I put the last glass back in place, tossing the towel under the bar. 

I think I have scrubbed every inch of this bar today, I think to myself, leaning into my hand. The music is lower since there’s nobody here, and everybody is currently preoccupied. I let my mind wander for a minute. 

The feeling of being so excited to see someone that your heart flutters. Being able to just hold someone close. God, getting to kiss them endlessly— nothing is better than that. Feeling them smile at you, ugh. Being so wrapped up in each other, pulling her into your lap so you can just have her as close as possible. Someone to call sweet things and have them call me ‘babe.’ Fuck me. I need a wife. Can I just skip to the being in love part? I don’t want to waste my time on girls who will just leave after a couple of months. I just want to fall helplessly in love and spend every day making sure they feel the same. 

“Jake?” Sam loudly says, waving his hand in front of me. 

My body jumps involuntarily, “For fucks sake.” 

“Good daydream, huh?” Josh teases. I fight the warm feeling creeping into my face, rolling my eyes subtly. 

“What do you guys want?” 

“Will you make us drinks, please?” Josh asks, trying to recover from his taunting. 

“Quinn and Willa too?” I double-check as I’m grabbing glasses. They both nod in sync. 

I kept letting out little sighs, which, to be fair, I didn’t think were that obvious. Turning and setting one of the drinks in front of them, my eyebrows pulled together. 

“Why do you look so angry?” Sam asks. 

“I’m not?” I quip back. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out as convincing as I would have liked. 

“I really think you just need to get laid or something, Jake,” Josh laughs out, “you need someone to take the edge off!” he laughs, nudging Sam with his elbow. You’re telling me. 

“When do I have the time, Josh? Come on,” I can’t help the attitude that comes out, but given the day I’ve had so far— getting harassed for not getting laid is not helping. 

“Honestly, you just seem tense lately,” Sam pipes up, “maybe if you actually flirted with one of the pretty girls who comes in, you could get off once in a while.” Josh barks out a laugh towards Sam, but I see Dan pointing in our direction as I listen to my personal peanut gallery giggle. 

Rolling my eyes at them as they keep egging each other on, “Trust me, I’d love for my wife to walk through those doors, but I don’t see that happening.” 

I turn to finish making drinks for the boys, trying to ignore them, squawking about my lack of sex life. As I set out a few glasses on the counter, I heard a lower, raspy female voice ring behind me, “Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?” 

I turn around to a petite redhead dressed very professionally. Her button-up was a pale yellow, tucked into some grayish-blue slacks. Her hair curled perfectly, and her dark red lips stood out against her pale complexion.  

“Which one?” we all answer in unison. 

She flips open her folder, looking at whatever papers are in there, and I can’t seem to look away from her. She’s … so hot?  

“Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.”

She looks up at me, making direct eye contact. Green. Her eyes are green.  

I manage to muster up the ability to ask, “What do you need from me, dear?” Dear? Am I ninety?  The sounds of my brother’s giggling prevented any level of silence between us. 

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” she says confidently; her voice is so pretty.“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,”  I say, trying to lighten the mood as I extend my arm out to shake her hand across the bar. It feels like a small jolt to my heart as her hand firmly grabs mine, and she tells me, “Charlotte Rhodes.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Two

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | Prologue | FDOG Playlist

If you ask nicely, I may be so inclined to drop Chapter 2 sooner than next Thursday .. is all i'm going to say. 🤭

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust, @myleftsockck , @mindastreamofcolours , @dont-go-home-without-me , @literal-dead-leaf , @lizzys-sunflower , @mackalah , @klarxtr , @edgingthedarkness , @writingcold , @i-love-gvf , @takenbythemadness , @ladywhimsymoon , @earthgrlsreasy, @violet-hayes, @gretavanfan , @musicspeaks , @jazzyfigz , @smoking-jakelane , @anythingforjtk

Reply to be added to the taglist or you can fill out this form!

[hazelira]

morning with baby rolls

The soft creak of the door opening gently stirred Jake from his thoughts as he stepped into the main bedroom. His tie had already been loosened, his usual crisp demeanour unwinding as the early morning light seeped through the curtains. It was 6 a.m., and despite his long night of case preparations, all he could think about was the warmth of home—you—and the tiny bundle of joy that had reshaped his life completely.

He was careful with his steps, making sure not to wake you. But his breath caught as soon as he neared the crib on the far side of the room.

There she was, his ten-month-old baby girl, all chubby cheeks and rolls, her little fingers stretching up and making grabby hands toward the bed where you slept soundly. Her round face looked even more irresistible in the dim morning light, the plumpness of her baby rolls catching the faintest of shadows, giving the illusion of tiny tan lines along her chunky arms and legs.

Jake’s lips curved into a soft smile, though his heart clenched seeing how earnestly she reached for you. Her wide eyes blinked sleepily, a slight whine escaping her as if calling, “Mama…”

He knew how exhausted you were from the night before, barely managing to drift asleep after tending to your little one’s every need. He couldn’t bear the thought of waking you, not when you finally had a moment of rest.

“Hey, princess,” Jake whispered, leaning over the crib with the gentlest smile. His large hand stroked her soft baby hair, careful not to disturb her too much. She cooed, her grabby hands reaching toward his face now, her little legs kicking excitedly in her onesie.

“Let’s not wake Mama, okay?” he murmured, scooping her into his arms. The moment her head rested against his shoulder, she giggled softly, her tiny body feeling heavy and warm against him. Jake couldn’t resist kissing her chubby cheek, inhaling the baby scent he had come to love more than anything.

Her weight was a comforting reminder of everything he had now—how much life had changed for the better, even if it meant juggling sleepless nights and court hearings. But for now, it was just him and his baby girl.

“We’ll get you some milk, sweetie,” he whispered, swaying gently as he headed toward the door. She wriggled in his arms, her fingers tugging at his shirt as she babbled incoherently, her baby rolls squishing into his chest. Jake chuckled softly. It was impossible not to feel his heart melt at how adorable she looked—her soft skin making her little arms and legs look even chunkier.

Once downstairs, Jake balanced her in one arm while reaching for the bottle from the fridge with the other. She stared at him with wide, curious eyes, her tiny mouth open in fascination. As he warmed her milk, she made grabby hands at the bottle, her pudgy fingers clenching and unclenching in impatience.

“Just a minute, baby girl,” Jake said, his voice a gentle tease as he bounced her lightly. She kicked her legs in response, her soft rolls squishing further, and Jake had to resist the urge to pinch them. She was just too precious, the tan lines from the dim morning light making her skin look even more kissable.

As soon as the bottle was ready, he settled into the living room couch, cradling her in his arms as he fed her. Her little hands clung to the bottle, and her eyes slowly fluttered shut as she drank, completely at ease in her father’s arms.

Jake’s eyes softened, watching her drift off to sleep with the faintest smile on her lips. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was, how much he loved both of you. The demanding cases and the long nights at the office faded away in these quiet moments with his family.

For now, he’d let you rest just a little longer. You deserved it. And as for him? He’d happily take every early morning with his baby girl, savouring these tiny, tender moments that made life much sweeter.

[little-worm-grant]

How They Loved You

Moonboys x You (Reader)

730 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Who fell in love with you first? How do they behave around you? Some ramblings of how each of the alters likes to love you.

Warnings: No smut but suggestive.

Dedicated to @lunaselena - ♥

Steven thought it the moment he met you. The way you talked. The way you smiled at him. How kind you were. Didn’t show him any sign of being sick of his rambling. He was smitten. Didn’t take him long to blurt it out. He wanted to please you in every way he could think of. He learned fast. Intuitive towards you. Empathetic to your needs. He listened. Searched for ways to gently push buttons he never knew existed before you.

Simply having you existing gave him all the motivation he needed to try and make you happy. You let him explore and find his confidence. In turn, he’d find ways to surprise you. Always with that dopey grin on his face and that eagerness like you wouldn’t believe.

He’d be the one that’d spend a whole movie massaging your back. Cuddling or staring at you that little bit longer or until he couldn’t any more. He’s easily flustered and still bashful at times. Eyes quickly cast away as you strip the last of your clothing. His gaze would always return.

Once he was comfortable in your space? He’d be sneaking up to try and surprise you. Playful in his kisses and bites against you. Knowing exactly what he was doing but feigning innocence. More giggly in his flirting and teasing. Checking in when he can to make sure everything he’s doing and you’re doing is okay. He’d worship the ground you stood on if he could.

Sure, he liked you for a while, but it took Marc getting to know you before it came down hot and heavy. Suddenly there was no air to breathe unless it was yours. You were his thoughts day and night. He needed all his time with you. Felt he was missing out anytime the others were with you instead of him.

Years would pass and he’d still be the same way. Utterly devoted. Not loud in his affection or words like the others sometimes were, but he made sure you knew he loved you. Gentle in all the right ways. Rough in the ways you both needed. He’d be the one doing the most to make sure you were cared for. Feed you. Drag you into baths and showers with him. Pull you into his arms to nap with him.

Marc loves you and only you. You’re more important to him than himself. He’d be the kind to burn the world down just to keep you safe. He’d kill for you. He’d be the most unstable if you left. A kind of obsessiveness he knows can’t be healthy but can’t help himself.

Took the longest time for him to express his feelings. Even if he felt it, he never expected it to be reciprocated. Marc’s good at putting on a show of being stoic and decisive. Deep down he still felt undesirable, like he wasn’t worth you. How lucky he was to have such a person to orbit around. You were his sun. His planet. And all the stars around him.

Took him the longest to come around to the idea of loving you. Told yourself it was because he wasn’t out much and when he was he’d tried to avoid you and the others. Too used to his own bubble. Worried you’d hurt him if you got the chance. By being in constant proximity to the others, you caught glimpses of him. And in those glimpses, you seemed to like what you saw.

Jake’s moment of falling in love wasn’t hard and fast like Steven’s, or hot and heavy like Marc’s. It was an “awww fuck. Shit.” Kind of moment. Him standing there rubbing his gloved hand over his face because he realizes he really does care about this spicy little dumbass. You drive him crazy and he couldn’t understand until now why he wants you to keep doing that.

He wants to excite you. Take you out to see and do things you’ve probably never seen or done before. Enjoys the company in those long drives he loves to take. You catch him off guard with being okay he’s more his own person. He likes to be around and indispensable to others. Likes that you like seeing him like that. Marc’s bold, but Jake can be bolder. He’s possibly a little more on the competitive side. Isn’t one to back down.

[hooned]

ok engenelvrs3000 🥹

[mxrcusflint]

Forget the time 'cause I'm seven hours behind It's probably good I didn't call though, but I always want to

[021894s]

look at my uber dawg💀 im not making it out alive

[mamsieur]

Don't mess with the Storm | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Cyclone could live up to his call sign. Especially when it concerned you, his youngest daughter, his little Storm.

TW : slight violence, mention of alcohol, family/domestic fluff

Length : 6753 words

AN : You can't make me believe that Beau Simpson isn't a family man with lots of kids. That's what he radiates.

posted on AO3 August 21, 2023

Your mom always said you took after your dad, but if he was a Cyclone, you were a Storm ; smaller and less destructive. Storm has always been your nickname. 

It described you quite well as much in your way of doing things than in your personality. You were passionate about everything you did and you often left a mess after you.

Being a Vice Admiral, Beau managed to control himself for his work but when it came to you and your well being, he could literally destroy everything on his way. Not that your father was in any way abusive or violent, but he sometimes could over react.

You were your parents’ precious little baby.

You were the youngest of four children; you had three older brothers, all in the military. Two of them, Nathan and Jamie, were naval aviators, like your father, and one, Aaron, was a Marine Officer. 

Needless to say, you were well taken care of ; you liked to think that you had a small ‘army’ for yourself.

But as much as they thought of you as their little princess, they never treated you like one, and you never wanted to be. You were tough and very capable of defending yourself. Your father always encouraged you in whatever you wanted to do. 

You wanted to join the soccer team? Let's go. Switch to boxing lessons? Done. A new passion for karting? He had your back. An interest in mechanics ? He bought you your first tool box.

As long as you put your heart and soul into whatever you did, your family would support you.

So when you told them you wanted to work for the Navy after your engineering degree, they were as supportive as they could be.

You were a genius engineer - your mom’s word, not yours - and you loved working on jets, inspecting them, gathering as much data as possible to make them as efficient as they can be. Working at Top Gun was heaven. Since the pilots were supposed to be the best, you loved pushing them and their machines to be better and better.

Of course, the fact that you were working on the same base as your father had raised some eyebrows. But neither of you cared, and he got you no special treatment.

After the uranium mission, you were assigned to check the status of the Dagger Squad's F-18s. Everything seemed to be in good shape, and while your computer analyzed the flight data, you inspected the engines. You liked to work alone when you could, it helped you stay in your bubble of concentration.

The sun was slowly setting as you finished diagnosing the last jet. Being alone in the hangar, you took the opportunity to put on some music. You hummed and swayed a little while you waited for the analysis to finish on your screen and inspected the engine.

Your head was - quite literally - in it when you heard footsteps behind you. They stopped a few feet away from you to let you finish what you were doing.

"I'll just be two minutes," you muttered and then shrugged, getting no response. You finished inspecting the seemingly defective part and stood up. Your face was covered in dust and motor oil, and your hair was starting to fall out of your ponytail.

You sighed and turned to your mysterious guest.

"Oh! Good evening Lieutenant Bradshaw. May I help you?" you smiled a little and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Good evening Second Lieutenant Simpson, to tell you the truth, yes, you may..." he grinned charmingly, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the plane, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten our date? It's 7:20, and we agreed to meet at 6:30 ?” 

You stopped smiling and looked at the clock. Crap! You hadn't seen the time.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I was servicing the jets and didn't realize what time it was! I should have set an alarm, I'm sorry. Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"

You were starting to mumble excuses as you gathered your things when you felt his hand on your wrist.

"It's okay, I know how you get when you're focused on something. We’ll find another day for that. I'll wait for you at the bar, okay?" he reassured you with a grin.

"Uh yeah, yeah okay! I'll be quick!" you nodded and smiled back at him. He tucked a strand of your wild hair behind your ear, a few inches from you, making you blush slightly. His thumb stroked your cheek. He had that cheeky smile he always had when something was on his mind. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving yours.

" Or , I can also wait for you in the changing-"

" Lieutenant Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant Simpson, what are you two still doing here? "

Your father's stern voice echoed through the hangar, taking you by surprise. Bradley took a quick step back and straightened his posture to greet him.

"I, uh-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw forgot his keys, sir, he was out. I got carried away with the diagnostics, I'm almost finished here," you replied quickly as Cyclone’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Bradley then at you.

"Hm. You better hurry then, Second Lieutenant, overtime is not allowed. You're free to go Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Yes sir!" you said in unison and Bradley left as quickly as he could, flashing one last smile in your direction before disappearing down the corridors.

As you started to clean up the mess you'd made, you heard an amused sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're still living up to your nickname."

"Ha ha, very funny Dad," you rolled your eyes and closed your toolbox, "Don't wait for me, I'm going out tonight."

"Mmh. Is Bradshaw involved?" he asked as he helped you carry your stuff to the storage room.

"Yes? I mean the whole Dagger team is, I need to get to know them to understand how they work."

That was only half a lie. You knew they most likely were all at the Hard Deck, you'd met them there a few times. You got along well with them, especially Natasha, Bob and Mickey. And of course, Bradley... But it was different with him.

You'd known him for years and your very first assignment had been with him. Your friendship had evolved over the years into a kind of friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddies relationship until a few weeks ago. Since the uranium mission, he wanted more than that, and so did you. You two tried to keep your relationship secret because you suspected it could jeopardize either of your careers, and mostly because you knew your father would not approve.

He always thought the guys you dated were not good enough for you. And as annoying as it was, he was always right. He scared away some of them and when you thought back about it, it's a good thing he did.

Truth be told, you have been in love with Bradley for so long that sometimes it hurted. 

You had tried to tell him so many times in the past, but you were afraid of losing what little intimacy you had with him. So when he asked you out, first thing after the uranium mission, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. The hope that your feelings would be reciprocated had invaded your heart and mind, and you felt like it was the first time you were in love. It wasn’t of course, but you were all giddy about it.

You didn’t like to lie to your dad, he knew you too much to know everything in just one look. 

But it was worth it, wasn’t it ?

You hoped it was.

After a well-deserved shower, you changed into clean, comfortable clothes that actually suited you. You put on your helmet and rode to the bar with your motorbike. Your mother hated when you used that ‘death machine’ and your father wasn't really fond of it either. It reminded him of Maverick. He wasn’t fond of Maverick. It always made you laugh watching your dad trying to remain calm in front of the Captain. You’ve never seen a man getting on his nerves that much.

The Hard Deck was already busy when you parked ; a totally normal Friday night , you thought. Looking around, you spotted Natasha’s, Javy’s and Bradley’s cars.

Penny nodded at you with a smile as you entered. The Daggers were in their usual places and Bradley seemed to be winning the pool game against Jake. In a desperate attempt to break his concentration, Jake chuckled, "Your girlfriend's here, Bradshaw”.

The whole team had discovered your relationship, of course, but swore to keep it a secret. You were grateful to them, but Jake being himself, he couldn't resist taking a dig at you. 

You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to Bob, watching the two eternal rivals finish their game. You caught up with Mickey and theorized with him on the last episodes of Kenobi then made your way towards Penny at the bar to buy your round of beers. As you waited for your drinks at the counter, you felt two hands around your waist.

"You're late, Second Lieutenant ."

"Had to fix your teammates’ jets, Lieutenant , tell them to be more careful," you grinned, leaning your back against your boyfriend's torso. You heard him chuckle softly as he whispered that you were an ‘idiot' and kissed the top of your head.

"Sorry about our date, I'll make it up to you."

"You bet your sweet ass you will," Bradley snickered at the squeal you let out as he spanked you a little, “But right now, you owe me a dance to celebrate my victory against Hangman.”

He took your hand as you rolled your eyes but followed him. Your whole body pressed against his, arms around his neck, the room faded away. All you could feel and see was him; one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your hip, guiding you. The warmth of his body was like a spell that kept you close, not wanting to let go.His hands roamed down your back making you shiver. It felt like you belonged there.

You couldn’t let go of his eyes, hypnotized. He had such beautiful eyes ; those hazel brown orbs were magnetic, so infuriatingly charming. 

One of your hands gently stroked his scarred cheek and he leaned into your touch, smiling like an idiot and humming the song you were slow dancing to. His smile always sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your cheeks. It was almost annoying how easily you fell for his charms.

The two of you danced until the song ended and you pulled him by the collar to kiss him. You felt his hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, shamelessly squeezing your ass, and his proud grin against your lips. You bit his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"Okay, lovebirds , get a room," Jake complained and you flipped him off, still in Bradley's arms.

"Don't be jealous Jakey, your time will come," you teased, making your partner chuckle.

"She's right Seresin, just wait till you're a big boy."

The evening continued quietly, with one beer after another, a few games of darts and pool, and a few songs on the piano for Bradley. 

You watched him from the bar, mesmerized, an affectionate smile on your face. You still wondered how you'd managed to get his attention; this man could have anyone he wanted with his smile combined with a little song, the sweetness with which he spoke, his sarcasms, his eyes so soft and intense at the same time, his stupid, stupid, cocky grin... God, you were definitely and undoubtedly under his spell, mind and heart.

Your eyes never left his form for more than five seconds. You looked at him as if you wanted to learn every aspect of his physique; but to be honest, you already knew him by heart. 

You could locate every beauty mark, every scar - and tell its story - and where his birthmark was. You could describe every shade of brown in his eyes, depending on the light or his emotions. You knew every expression on his face; when he was angry, frustrated, sad, or playful. You knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him putty in your hands, every positively sensitive area and those to avoid.

And yet, every time you looked at him, behind the piano, laughing with his friends, you discovered a new detail that made you love him even more.

The way he cared for all of them - even Jake, his "archenemy" - and knew just what to do to make them feel better and laugh. How he always listened to what they had to share, good or bad, and offered to help. How he'd always protect them as if they were his siblings, his rather hazardous family.

Speaking of hazardous family, it always made you laugh how Bradley could be so like Pete and like your dad. It was sometimes a mixture of arrogance and calm, defiance and seriousness. Part of you was sure that if they tried, your dad and Bradley would get along. But were they willing to ?

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a man, a little younger than you, sitting next to your stool. He started talking, trying to flirt, but you didn’t really pay attention, still absorbed by your boyfriend’s silliness, until he clicked his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you doll. You should really pay attention when someone is talking to you, got it ?”

You sipped your beer and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He continued his flirtatious attempts, bragging that he was one of the best in his class at Top Gun. He kept trying to get your attention by snapping his fingers or grabbing your arm. His breath was clearly too close to your face and stinked a mixture of beer and chips. 

It really started to annoy you, so it was your turn to snap your fingers in his face.

"I'm not interested,” you snapped your fingers again, “If a girl ignores you, it's because she doesn't want to talk to you, got it ?"

You got off your stool, ready to join the Daggers by the piano. But a hand gripped your wrist and the man pulled you close to him. You could see a hint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but it didn’t scare you. You were used to guys like him, thinking they own every woman they see. 

“Listen doll, I was nice until now. Give me your number and I’ll forgive you,” he grinned, his buddies sneering behind him, as if they were proud of him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. What kind of bad joke was that ?

In one swift motion, you released your wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. You bent him violently over the bar and locked him in that position, pressing down just enough to hurt and immobilize him. 

"One false move and I will dislocate your arm," you threatened in his ear as a few glances turned in your direction. "Now listen to me carefully. This is the last time you'll talk to me or any woman like that. Understood?"

He grunted and struggled a little. You pressed harder and repeated, "Understood?"

"Okay! Okay, I understand! Get off me!"

The man growled again and you finally let go. Penny gave you a look that you understood as a warning and you smiled innocently to her. The man and his group walked away with a grunt, giving you one last murderous look. You smiled broadly and made a mocking curtsy. 

Bradley raised an eyebrow as they passed him, muttering that you were a "crazy bitch". You joined him with two beers, one for him and one for you.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, just some big macho guy. He didn't like that I wasn't paying attention to him. I just put him in his place."

You shrugged with a smile and Bradley shook his head, laughing a little, knowing exactly what you meant. He put his arm around your waist and kissed your temple. 

"I know you can defend yourself, but don't get yourself in trouble, Stormy."

"Don't worry, if I get in trouble, my knight in shining armor will come and rescue me, won't he?" you teased. He chuckled but nodded before taking you on his lap at the piano. He started a new song that had the remaining customers singing and dancing.

***

The end of the evening was a bit hazy.

You'd had too much to drink to get back on your bike, so it was Bradley who drove you home. You pulled your boyfriend into your small house - he offered no resistance - and kissed him as if your life depended on it, as if that simple contact made your heart beat. His hands roamed your body with hunger, and yours tore his Hawaiian shirt from his back. You thought of nothing but Bradley, his soft lips devouring your jaw and neck, leaving a few marks where he passed, his hands so warm on your skin, his breath making you shiver. 

You wandered back to your room, kicking off your shoes, and your clothes ended up in a pile at the end of your bed. 

You loved doing it with Bradley. He gave you everything you wanted and so much more. You'd never been as fulfilled as you were with him. It was as if he knew everything about how your body worked, that it held no secrets for him. 

Your nightly activities have drained you both of what little energy you had left, and you fell asleep hugging each other, as if afraid the other will evaporate.

The next morning, it was not your massive headache that woke you, but the sound of several cars and children laughing outside your house. What day was it? Was it Saturday? It was Saturday!

You jumped to your feet as Bradley mumbled something unintelligible.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You shook your boyfriend and wrapped yourself in a blanket as you heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

"Bradley, get up!"

"Mmh, five minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. You heard the door open and small footsteps running toward your room. You panicked and shook him harder.

"We don't have five minutes! Get your ass up!" 

You grabbed the first thing you could get your hands on: panties and Bradley's tank top. You stumbled to your bedroom door to get out before one of your nephews’ innocent eyes discovered their aunt and a man they didn't know naked as worms in her bed. You tried to look as natural as possible as you quickly closed the door behind you. Standing in front of you was Jack, your three-year-old nephew. He was Nathan’s, your oldest brother, son. He laughed as he threw himself on your legs to give you a hug.

"Oh my God, hi sweetie! You're early!"

"Dada said we'd surprise you, Auntie! And Pop-Pop is here too!" the little boy laughed.

"What a nice thought!" you tried not to sound too ironic as you picked him up to give him a kiss and rearrange his wild blond hair. "Auntie needs to get dressed, okay? Go wait with your dad in the living room!"

You gave him one last kiss and made sure he ran to the living room before storming back to your bedroom. How could you forget that your brothers were visiting today? You were so screwed! A million thoughts went through your head and one thing made you snap out of it; Bradley yawning and taking his sweet time getting up. You grumbled and attacked him with a pillow.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're in deep shit Bradley! My whole family is here! They weren't supposed to be up this early!"

"What?" he blinked and narrowed his eyes, trying to process what you'd just told him. You started to rattle on about how your brothers got their permission for your mom's birthday, but your brothers were here super early with their wifes, their kids, and your mom and dad. Bradley had trouble following what you were saying because you were talking really fast. 

“Babe,” he tried to interrupt you, but you kept mumbling and pacing next to the bed, “Y/N, baby, calm down!” 

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit in front of him. His free hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he guided you into breathing to calm yourself down.

“Okay… mind explaining slower what is happening here ?”

You sighed and nodded before re-explaining the whole situation to him. “But they weren’t supposed to come here this early ! The surprise lunch for my mom was supposed to be at home, not in my flat ! And my dad is here. My dad ! What are we going to say ?”

You cursed again, rubbing your temples. Bradley took your hands in his to make you look at him and stole a kiss from you. You sighed against his lips, your tension going away slightly. He then pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your cheeks to soothe you.

“How about we get dressed and just… join them in the living room ?”

“You really want to face my dad ?” you raised one eyebrow, surprised but really relieved that he didn’t propose to just sneak out.

“Yeah ? I mean, the man already has doubts, you’ve said it yourself… and it’s your mother’s birthday, your whole army of men won’t be able to kill me. Not today at least.”

You chuckled at his joking tone and at the silly smile he has on his face. You pecked his lips with a grin. “Okay then Lieutenant , let’s get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am!” 

He gave you one last tender kiss, and when the two of you went to get up, a little giggle made you both freeze.

“Auntie who that ? And why he nakey ?”

Your nephew’s voice asked. He was standing by the door, a playful smile on his chubby face, and his little finger pointing at your embarrassed boyfriend. Bradley quickly covered himself more, lifting the sheet at his chin, and you ran to get little Jack in your arms.

“How did he get here ??” Bradley scream-whispered at you, hiding himself while trying to get dressed.

“I don’t know !” you scream-whispered back before turning your attention back to the toddler who was babbling in your arms, “Jack, honey, why aren’t you with your dad and pop-pop ?”

Before he could answer, your sister in law was by your bedroom, apologizing. She didn’t notice Bradley right away, but when she did, a small cheeky smile curled on her lip.

“Hi there, sorry to have him interrupted you two.”

“Annie, it’s not what it looks like-” you blushed when you understood what she implied but Bradley interrupted you by presenting himself and shaking her hand with a wide smile. They chat while you put on a pair of jeans, keeping on Bradley’s tank top. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed.

Little Jack looked at your boyfriend with wide-eyed wonder. He loved meeting new people, and Bradley seemed fascinating to his young eyes. It was no wonder when every time Annie spoke to you, Bradley would make faces at the little boy and make him giggle. 

Bradley already had him in his pocket, so that was a good thing. Annie seemed to like him too, at least you thought so from the mischievous looks she gave you. 

As you crossed the hallway to join the rest of your family, a wave of nervousness ran through you. You grabbed Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt and turned him toward you. You pulled him into a hug to relax and to give yourself courage.

"Promise you won't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They'll probably try to impress you, my brothers I mean... and my dad... you know how he can be..."

"Oh honey... It takes more than that to scare me. I'll be fine."

He kissed your forehead and you walked into the living room.

You greeted everyone, your father not immediately aware of Bradley's presence. You introduced him to your brothers first, Nathan, Aaron and Jamie, and they didn't do anything strange at first; they were probably waiting for you to introduce him to your father to see what sauce to cook him in.

Beau and Vivian, your mother, were too busy admiring your niece, five-month-old Juliet, to notice Bradley's presence. She was fast asleep in the arms of Jamie's fiancée, Alice. She greeted you with a smile when you waved.

"Awake at last, Stormy?" your father asked before freezing and losing his smile at the sight of your boyfriend, " Lieutenant Bradshaw. ".

His cold, hard tone made you sigh a little as the two men shook hands in greeting. 

“Good morning Vice Admiral Simpson.” 

They were way too formal, it was ridiculous. Your mother had the same reaction as you and introduced herself to Bradley with a warm smile and a hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Simpson."

"Oh, please, just call me Viv!" she laughed a little, waving her hand. Then she turned to you, discreetly gave you both thumbs up and winked at you. 

Good. Bradley seemed to have charmed your mother with just a smile.

Still, you could feel your father tense up behind you as Bradley got to know everyone. He remained very polite and smiled, even letting Jack, Oliver and Tommy - Aaron's twin sons - pull him out to play in the little garden. Your father grabbed your arm. "Kitchen. Now. We need to talk." He seemed a little upset, and you could understand; you'd lied to him.

"Care to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms on his chest, a stern look on his face. 

You didn't like that look. He used to have it when he scolded you when you were a teenager, when you would sneak out of the house to go to a party or to meet up with your then-boyfriend. For a moment, you were 16 again, caught in the act.

You sighed at his insistent and questioning look.

"I uh... He’s... we’re... we've been seeing each other for… a few weeks..."

"A few weeks? So you've been lying to me for weeks?"

"I haven't lied! At least not completely..." you mumbled, biting your fingernail.

"Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Seriously Dad? You've made it pretty clear that you don't really like him, I mean outside of work."

"I never said that."

You widened your eyes, shocked at his bad faith. 

"Are you kidding me? You've made it clear that you don't want me around him because he's too much like Maverick! Every time I mentioned him, you made your… disapproving face. The same one you made every time I mentioned my old boyfriends, or when I wanted to get a motorcycle, or when the boys tried to bleach their hair in high school !"

"I don't have a disapproving face," he grumbled, "and it's not because he’s like Maverick that I don't want you around him, it's because he can be called back on a mission at any time. I don't want that to break your heart."

"Oh ! But it's okay for Nathan, Aaron, and Jamie to break the hearts of their partners? Of their children? It was okay for you to risk breaking Mom's heart and ours? What kind of cardboard argument is that, Dad?" You raised your arms in disbelief as you started to walk out of the kitchen, but you stopped and turned back to face him. "I know you want to protect me, but... you can't do that about things like that. I know you know better than anyone the risks of this job, the sacrifices it requires. But Bradley knows them as well, if not better, than you do. And as much as it scares me, as much as it scares us... we want to try… And even if you don't like it, we'll give it a try. Because I almost lost him once without really being able to be with him..."

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the kitchen window you could see Bradley playing with your nephews, under your mother's and in laws’ amused and tender eyes. A small smile crept across your lips as the little ones called you over to help hold Bradley down. You hurried to join them, and your mother joined your father.

"Our boys and the little ones seem to like this Lieutenant…”

“Seems like it…”  

“He reminds me a little of you when we first met..." Vivian chuckled to Beau as she hugged him. 

"Really?" the man wondered, "and how?"

"Well, he has that same sparkle in his eyes... the one that calls for adventure, that gentle and loving look when his eyes land on our Storm... and he's also very good with children," she laughed at his slightly embarrassed expression, "You should give him a chance... our princess looks so relaxed with him... look at her… look at her smile…"

He lifted his head and watched the two of you having fun with the three little boys and sighed. His wife was right. You looked so happy in Bradley's arms, waltzing and laughing with the kids. He'd never seen you look so radiant, as cliché as it sounded. Your brothers also seemed to have accepted the newcomer without too much fuss. So Beau seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Okay, I'll try... but I'm not promising anything."

Vivian rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that your father would quickly accept Bradley as well.

Lunch went off without a hitch, Beau swallowing his pride not to be as awkward with Bradley as possible, although he did draw a few murderous looks from your father when he put his hand a little too high on your thigh or lower back. After dessert, he helped your brothers put the kids down for a nap and let them share the convertible bed in your little study. Your sisters-in-law and your brother-in-law, Evan - Aaron's husband - helped you with the dishes. They gently teased you that Bradley was a very handsome young man and that you had chosen well. 

"I know I did. Look at you all, we Simpsons always have good taste," you sniped back with a wink and a teasing smile, making them laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait... So he was your regular booty call after your first assignment?" Evan seemed to realize. You shushed him and made sure that your parents didn't hear him say that. Annie laughed a little and grabbed your shoulder, making you look into her eyes. 

"I can see why you qualified him as the best sex of your life after the upper body I saw this morning," she teased you again, making your face completely flush. You practically begged her to stop talking about your sex life, very embarrassed. But the three of them could be little bullies and they loved to tease you sometimes.

"Guys, please stop. If my father hears you-"

"Hear what, Stormy?"

You turned and paled a little under your father's cold gaze and tight smile. Your sister-in-law and brother-in-law took the opportunity to run off like teenagers, and of course Bradley arrived just then, smiling carelessly. 

"The three cataclysms are finally asleep. Is everything okay in here?" he asked as he joined you in front of your father. He immediately wiped the smile off his face when he saw the look on Beau's face.

"You're lucky it's my wife's birthday, Bradshaw," he growled, his eyes staring straight into your souls, "but if I hear one more detail about your... nocturnal activities, I'm going to make sure that the two of you are as far away from each other as possible, even if it means sending one of you to Japan or Korea. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley replied promptly, "Clear as day.”

"For God's sake, Dad, aren't you being a little extreme? I'm a responsible adult-"

"I'm warning you, I don't want another grandchild too soon. Keep it in your pants."

"Dad!!"

Just when you thought you couldn't get any more embarrassed, your dad had the right words. He left the two of you in the kitchen, muttering that he was getting too old for this. 

"Oh my God..." You cursed as you hid your face in your hands and turned towards the sink. Of all the weird things that could happen, you'd really hoped no one would mention your sex life. You felt a little angry, but more than that, you were extremely embarrassed. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the counter as you lowered your head. You felt the warmth of Bradley's body enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his front against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, babe? I told you it would take more than that to scare me off... Maybe your dad hasn't fallen for the Bradshaw charm yet, but I'm working on it..." he tried to cheer you up, "And now I have an army of kids who love me, I can order them to defend me."

You smiled, amused at his silliness. "You're really good with kids, but I think it's them who will command you..."

"Maybe you're right," he laughed a little and kissed the hollow of your neck, his mustache tickling you, "but your mother has already adopted me. I'm protected."

You laughed with him, your embarrassment and anger disappearing. You leaned against him, enjoying the hug he offered you. These simple gestures were so comforting that it was almost frightening how quickly he could soothe you. You closed your eyes as he hummed and softly danced with you in the kitchen. It was so cliché, right out of a rom-com, but you couldn’t care less.

After a few minutes, you regained enough courage to join the rest of your family in the living room. Your in-laws gave you apologetic looks, and your brothers were a little lost, but didn't dare ask. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Bradley learned every little anecdote your mother had to share; whether it was about your brothers, you, or even your father, she was more than happy to share with him. Jamie and Alice had fallen asleep in the garden, making your mother smile in awe. Nathan laughed a little with Aaron. "We warned them that a newborn was exhausting, but they insisted on coming here their own way...". 

You laughed a little too, it was true they looked exhausted. But little Juliet was so cute that they forgot how tired they were. 

Speaking of her, the baby phone warned everyone that she was waking up. You volunteered to warm her bottle and Bradley went to get her. Alice had put the travel crib in your room so the other three children would not be disturbed if Juliet woke up. 

When the milk was at the right temperature, you joined Bradley in your room. Your cheeks flushed and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him holding the little one. He rocked her gently, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He seemed so natural that it made you fall even more in love with him. 

You shook your head, your father's voice echoing in your head: "No more grandchildren for now.”

You joined him and let him gently place the baby in your arms. You smiled and fed the hungry five-month-old in your arms. Bradley leaned against the doorframe and watched you with a soft smile. You, too, were a natural with children. Juliet seemed so comfortable in your arms and you seemed so relaxed. He found himself daydreaming about the two of you having children together. He blushed as he imagined you pregnant with his baby... and Nathan giggled behind him. "Calm your horses Bradshaw, you're not putting a baby in my sister anytime soon."

Bradley's face turned as bright red as yours. "Nathan, shut up!" you yelled-whispered at him, careful not to disturb the eating baby in your arms.

“What? You heard our old man, "No more grandchildren for now!”” Nathan grinned and put his arm around Bradley's shoulders.

"I can't promise that..." Bradley mumbled softly, mesmerized by the sight of you holding Juliet against you as you burped her after she had finished her bottle. Nathan's eyes widened and he tried his best not to burst out laughing. "What did you say, Brad’ ? I think I misheard you?"

You blushed as you realized what your boyfriend had just said.

"I... Nothing!" Bradley defended himself weakly, very embarrassed. Nathan teased him until your mother told him to stop, threatening him with no cake after dinner. He immediately stopped and went to get his son after whispering to Bradley that he wouldn't forget what he had just said. You decided not to talk about it, feeling a little embarrassed as well.

It wasn't long before dinnertime arrived, and your father was relaxed and talking with Bradley. You even caught them laughing together. This interaction was reassuring for the rest of the evening.

As usual, your mother had cooked for a regiment, and your refrigerator was full of leftovers. She made Bradley promise to stop by the family home and look at the family albums and your childhood bedroom. He laughed a little but agreed. 

You walked everyone back to their cars, helped them with the kids' stuff, and your dad gave you one last hug and said good night. He said goodbye to Bradley with a slight smile and a quick hug. 

When everyone was gone, you collapsed on your sofa, drained of all energy. Bradley joined you with a smile and pulled you right into his arms.

"That didn't go so badly after all..."

You nodded, yawned and put your arms around him. You thought back to the day that had just passed, to that roller coaster of emotions, and laughed a little.

"So... eager to put a baby inside me Lieutenant?"

"Oh my God Y/N!!" Bradley blushed, hiding his face behind his fists in total embarrassment. You laughed and teased him about it. You preferred to take it as a joke because neither of you were anywhere near ready to have children of your own, you both agreed on that. Or did you?

He turned to you, a serious expression on his face.

"And what if I am? Would you... would you be on board to have kids with me? Not right now, of course, but... I... I can't imagine a future without you in it, and I'd like to have kids with you. I know we haven't really been together that long, but we've known each other for a long time... and oh my God, I'm rumbling," he groaned, rubbing his face before looking back at you. "What I mean is that I love you and I don't want to live without you. Maybe it's rushed, maybe you-"

You interrupted him, pulled him by the collar and kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that he had just admitted his feelings, or the fact that he was already planning a life with you. Maybe both. Certainly both.

"I love you too," you whispered between two kisses, "and I don't want to be without you either... and I would love to start a family with you someday, Lieutenant Bradshaw..."

You smiled, your forehead pressed against his, and he chuckled in relief.

"Today was really like you... a storm..." he sighed, smiling and stroking your cheeks.

"I know... are you sure you can keep up with my family?" you teased, "Now that you've messed with the storm, the cyclone will never be far away."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Stormy."

[sirjaketkiszka]

Silver Springs Masterpost

Early20s!Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I know I could have loved you but you would not let me…

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Being best friends with Josh, you figured you’d get along well with his twin… You were wrong. Jake Kiszka is arrogant, cocky, and all things irritating.

With the semester being over, you spend your summer with the band before they leave town to chase their dreams. If only you knew what that would entail;

Jealousy, secrecy, and heartbreak…

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Word count: 22,502

Warnings: 18+!!, jealousy, lying, cursing, arguing, eventual smut, underage drinking, and mediocre writing.

(each chapter will have its own list of warnings as well.)

Disclaimer: in no way does this storyline follow real life events pertaining to personal lives, tour schedules, release dates, etc.

Playlist inspired by Silver Springs.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Chapter List:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five (coming soon…)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Tags:

[crossthread]

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Abs Sans Brain

Top Gun: Maverick - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!pilotreader [no use of y/n]

2.6k || Your date with Jake at the Hard Deck is crashed by the rest of the squad.

==== Genre: Fluffy, flirty, and funky

CW: Swearing, drinking

Author’s Note: I’m writing this before I start writing the fic itself. I’m shooting for 600 - 800 words. Please laugh at me when we see how wrong I end up being. Oh, and the reader is best friends with Bob because I said so. || cross-posted on ao3

===

===

There were very few things you had asked for in life. Good health, good people, and the entire sky at your disposal. A small list, if a bit demanding. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d asked for the Heavens was all those who came with it. In particular, Jake Seresin, who slid into the booth across from you. Beers in hand, grin in place.

“Come here often, doll?”

You roll your eyes at him. A movement that does little to hide the smile blooming across your lips. “I can’t believe I ever let that line work on me.”

“In your defense,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer. “The first time I used that line, we were thousands of feet in the sky. It’s where I’m at my most irresistible.”

“Ah, yes. That must have been it. Everywhere else you’re just insufferable.” You laughed and took a significantly smaller sip of your beer. It’s your second one in ten minutes. “If I didn’t know you any better, Seresin, I’d say you’re trying to get me drunk here.”

“Tryin’?” he scoffed, “and you say you know me.”

The unfortunate thing about this whole situation was that you did know Jake. You knew him well, better than Coyote. You knew his favorite color was yellow. That’s why it had been put in his helmet. (He’d also left off the ‘a’ in his helmet because the idea of filling it in to say ‘Hungman’ fit his sixth grade sense of humor). You knew he over-exaggerated his southern drawl whenever you walked into a room because you’d once drunkenly admitted to him that hearing him talk flooded your mind with dirty thoughts. You knew Jake’s mind was fifty percent dirty thoughts, twenty-five percent sky, twenty percent you, five percent ways to school you at cards and five percent cheeky comebacks he was sitting on to annoy the rest of the squad with. And, most disheartening of all, you knew Jake was not a romantic.

It didn’t bother him that date night was a few beers, fried food, and a game of pool. It didn’t bother you either. Not entirely, but you were hoping for one night where you could dress up nice and go out somewhere fancy. Somewhere along the lines of joining the military and ending up at TOPGUN the line of being feminine had been blurred. Commanders couldn’t understand why you’d want to put on a bit of mascara to fly a plane. In the same stretch of imagination, Hangman seemingly couldn’t put it together that you’d like a bit of romance in your life beyond the cheesy pickup lines and pet names.

If you could add anything to your list of ‘good health, good people, and the entire sky’ it would be a few nice dates. You’d say nothing fancy, but you wouldn’t mean it. You wanted fancy. Even if it was just to realize that fancy is actually not what you wanted at all. Something to change up the pace of playing pool with Jake and being hit on by him like you were his latest conquest and not his girlfriend of six months.

Part of you felt like you were being slightly unfair.

“Your turn, doll,” Jake said, but when you went to pass in front of him he grabbed you by your belt loop. He pulled you back towards him, matching your laugh, and captured your lips with his.

Moments like these almost had you convinced that maybe you could push those selfish date ideas off to the side. Jake liked showing off. He liked being able to flirt with you in a place where you could laugh loudly and no one would look at you weird. He liked being able to slip out the back door to walk down the beach with you under the stars.

“If it’s my turn,” you said between kisses, “then let me shoot the ball.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your waist and you positioned yourself to sink yet another ball into the pocket. You planned to kick his ass in an embarrassingly short amount of time to get the pettiness out of your system, then enjoy your night together.

Except for the fact that the front bell chimed, and familiar shouts filled the bar. Familiar because you’d heard them less than an hour ago. You considered altering your list once more. ‘Good people who knew when not to come get a drink.’

“Hangman!” Payback shouted across the bar. “Rack ‘em up. Rooster was just telling me how the two of you ended in a tie game last week.”

Jake’s laughter filled your ears. He still had a hand on the small of your back, but his attention was entirely on your group of friends trailing through the door. “Chicken doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. I smoked his ass.”

“I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is, Seresin. Unless you’re still broke from the last time I kicked your ass.”

Rooster headed over to the pool table followed closely by Fanboy and Coyote. Payback, scribbling in a notebook, hung back for a moment. Then opened his mouth to edge the tension on a bit more. You knew your date night had been pushed aside, so you took it upon yourself to step off to the side yourself.

Phoenix smiled at you, waving, and tilted her head. “I thought you guys were on a date?” She asked. You shot her a look that said ‘We’ll talk later.’ Natasha let out a laugh. “Sorry. Look, I’ll get you something strong to drink.”

“Make it a double!” You called out after her as she made her way over to the bar where she’d be trapped by millions of questions from Penny. The sound of your name, your government name, being called by a certain southern drawl caught your attention. “Yes, love?” You asked, hoping that your boyfriend was about to make an unexpected promise that the two of you could leave after one game.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Jake nudged you softly with his shoulder then threw his head over in Bradley’s direction. “We can always just ask the peanut squad to leave. The small man will only get so much smaller when I whoop his ass for the hundredth time”

Rooster stiffens, almost to attention. He holds the pool cue next to him. Straight and tall. “I’m taller than you are, Bagman.”

It had become a trend of sorts to refer to Jake with various insults that fell so effortlessly from Bob’s mouth. You had tried your hardest to resist, out of solidarity for your boyfriend, some of the nicknames were too creative to avoid… and it gave you an excuse to make Jake try and draw his true name from your lips.

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of height, Chick.”

“C’mon, Jake,” you whine, “can you please just be the polite Jake I know you to be?”

“Oxymoron!” Rooster calls from across the pool table to which Jake whirls around and says, “What the fuck did you just call me?”

You shoot a glare in Bradley’s direction. “Seriously?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Payback pulling that same little notebook out of his pocket to make a mark. You turn on him. “And what the hell are you doing?”

He turns the page towards you. On it in crude, unintelligible handwriting is what you can only assume to be two columns labeled “Hangman” and “Rooster” with a series of ticks beneath them. Jake in the lead by a long shot. “I like to keep track.”

In the corner, you noticed when you squinted to read the handwriting, was a third little box. Completely full of ticks. “Who is that?”

“Bob,” Payback said at the same time Bob said, “Mine.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Jake. “Can I talk to you?”

Your tone is enough to etch worry on his face. He set his pool cue against the table, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you off to the side. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“This isn’t a date.” The whiny lit to your voice didn’t make you feel the most sexy, but you’d tried seducing Jake to go to a movie so the two of you could make out in the dark instead and that hadn’t worked. Pouting was your last resort. “Every time we go on a date, they show up. They’re like fleas!”

“At least fleas can do tricks.” Jake turned to look over his shoulder. “Rooster can’t even hit a ball straight.”

“Jake, I’m being serious. Why won’t you just take me on a date? A real one.”

“Look, pretty girl, I’ll make a deal with you.”

You side-eyed him, unconvinced, and sighed. “Lucky me.”

“Play me in darts. I win, we stay and hang out with everyone. Lord knows Rooster and Phoenix need to be humbled in pool. Plus, you’re the only one here who can get Bob to do enough shots to start doing karaoke.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I know how much you love his drunk renditions of ‘Sweet Caroline.’”

Jake had a point. There had been one night - shockingly, another date night at the Hard Deck turned into a group activity - where you went to sulk in a booth while your schmooze of a boyfriend fueled his bromance with Coyote, Rooster, and Payback. Bob, still not the biggest partier, had grown tired of the swapping insults over darts and was worn out from dodging Phoenix and Fanboy’s attempts to get him to dance with them. So he’d ended up in the booth across from you.

You’d been pounding back shots of tequila like they were water. “He’s stupid,” you had slurred to Bob, “but you’re not stupid. You’re fun. Here, do a shot with me. Let’s be fun.”

He would tell you the next day that he had only intended to do one shot but one turned into two which turned into four which turned into Bob unplugging the jukebox to sing a melody of songs from your Grandma’s playlist with impressive range. After each one he would make sure to point you out of the gathering crowd of dazzled patrons. “This one’s for her!” He’d shout in dedication and start up singing again.

It hadn’t been a bad night then, and, even though you’d never admit it to Jake, you had a lot of fun. Tonight would be the same if you could let yourself stop moping long enough to enjoy it. But there was still the matter of:

“What if I win?” You ask. Competition was the reason you were here on the West Coast to begin with. You were the best of the best because you refused to let anyone else get the upper hand on you. “What do I get then, Seresin?”

“If you win,” Jake said, slowly kneading your hips with his hands. “I will take you out on another date - a fancy one. With roses and the opening of doors and the biggest bottle of wine this nice restaurant downtown has to offer. I’ll dress up and give you the most romantic night of your life. But tonight we’ll stay here and do everything we’d do anyway if I had win.”

“If I win.”

“If you win… but you won’t.”

He didn’t have to say it for you to know it was true. He threw darts the same way he flew planes: with deadly precision. There was a reason Hangman was the only one out of everyone in their generation with two confirmed kills. He could land a shot with his eyes closed. In the air and with two feet planted firmly on the hardwood floors of the Hard Deck.

“That’s not fair at all.”

“I don’t make the rules, sweet thing.” That stupid smirk was back on his face. The two of you hadn’t made it back to your booth yet for appetizers, otherwise there’d surely be a toothpick rolling between those lips of his too.  “C’mon, we’ll make it easy. Three darts each. Most points win.”

“That’s not how you play darts, Jake. Even I know that.”

“Bagman,” Payback called out, “what are you doing, the balls are racked?”

You went to grab the darts from the board as Jake said, “Kicking my girl’s ass in darts as a warm up for kicking your sorry asses in every game after.”

“Ladies first,” you gestured, mimicking his smug smirk. He glared playfully at you but stepped up to throw the first dart in a movement almost too quick for you to see. A perfect bullseye. “Show off.”

“Got to put some skin in the game.” Jake moved you in front of him. His hands gripping your waist to hold you in place as he pressed kisses to your neck. “I like your skin better, darlin’.”

You shooed him away. The dart felt heavy in your hand. Screwing this up would essentially be throwing away your only sure shot at the date of your dreams. You lifted your arm and threw the dart. It flew, fitting itself snugly into the single bull.

Jake’s turn. He moved just as quickly as the first time, but the angle he shot at landed the dart in a single scoring 18. Winning was still well within your grasp. A decent date was inching closer and closer.

Your turn. A deep steady breath. This dart felt weightless. An extension of yourself. You throw the dart in a less fluid motion than Jake, but manage to stick it in the bullseye right next to his.

“Look at that!” You shouted, pointing and jumping. Joy overwhelmed you not just because you were currently winning, but because this had been the first bullseye you’d made without Jake helping you in the slightest. He’d likely still claim this victory as his. It was his silly deal that made you so determined in the first place.

Jake’s final turn. He still had the chance to put you in the dust. Your eyes were glued to the board, but the dart never came. When you turned to look at him, Jake threw the dart at the ground. “You win,” he said, but you shook your head. Eyes back to the board. You won even without throwing this last dart.

You snapped your head in his direction, ready to call him out for cheating, but you were cut off by Jake’s lips crashing onto yours. He pulled away quickly, muttered a small, “You really think I’d deny you anything, doll?” then rushed off to join the restless group at the pool table. Leaving you to glance from the stray dart stuck in the floor and the man you were beginning to fall for at the pool table.

Phoenix saddled up next to you, drink in hand, and passed one over to you. “What did he promise you if you won?”

“A real date.”

“The fancy one with all that inspiration you’ve been sending me on Pintrest.”

“That’s the one.”

She let out a low whistle. “Wow, and I thought he loved you just by the way he looked at you, but this is something else. He’s smitten.”

“I guess I have that effect on some people,” you said and hid your giddy grin with a sip of your drink. “Did you ask Penny to get the tequila shots ready?”

“The real question is if we’re ready to hear Bob signing.”

This might just be one of your favorite dates yet.

===

oneshot taglist: 

@rosiahills22 @pono-pura-vida @gizmodear​

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. T-SHOT PREFS : 941 WRDS

CW : Shots, Needles, Syringes, etc.

A/N : I came up with this idea in the middle of a class and couldn’t get it off of my mind! The scenario here is that you’ve recently received your first prescription and want the boys to have the honor of giving it to you. I don’t take T myself, but for those who do/want/plan to, I hope you all enjoy these prefs!

STEVEN GRANT .

You better bet your ass that Steven would love to help you with your T shot. He’d be smiling idiotically as you grab it. He follows you to the bathroom all giddy, unable to keep still as you get the small bottle from the cabinet behind the mirror.

“It’s a shot? Why does it have to be a shot?! Isn’t there an easier way to do this? What if I hurt you?”

He gets a little weary once you inform him that he will have to put a needle in your skin. You reassure him that everything will be fine. He’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.

Once you’re settled on the edge of your shared bed, he kneels down in front of you and offers to help you shimmy your pants off just enough to show your hip.

“I’m just making sure one more time; you want me to do this?”

His hand trembles softly as he holds the syringe. His cheeks are hot from being so nervous. His eyes keep flicking from your eyes, your hip, and the syringe.

You take his free hand and place it on top of your thigh opposite of the hip he’ll inject you in. Your thumb reassuringly runs over his knuckles before you clasp your palm on the back of his. You tell him once more that you’re sure and he nods his head, feeling more sure now that he has your touch to comfort him.

He carefully injects the liquid into your hip, cringing, but eyeing the needle intently, as he does so. In all honesty he looked more scared of giving you your testosterone than you were of receiving it.

“Hey! Look at me go! Look at us go!” He’s beaming after he’s done. He quickly gets up from his feet to lean forward and kiss your forehead. He’s proud of himself for giving you the shot, proud of you for taking it, and happy that you’re taking another step to being more comfortable in your own skin. “You took that so well! I’m truly amazed at how well you did. Good job, really.”

MARC SPECTOR .

Marc is familiar with the shots, syringes, etc. from all the hospital visits. As soon as you mention there’s the option of taking it in your thigh or hip, he tells you he won’t give it to you unless you let him inject your thigh.

It’s not because he’s a thigh guy, but because he knows it’s less painful and he would never want to hurt you. Espically if he has control of the situation the two of you are in.

He does everything pretty quick. Getting the bottle and syringe prepared, making sure you’re sat somewhere cozy, and moving your pants aside so he can get to your thigh easily.

Marc lets out a deep exhale as he looks up at you from his knees. “You ready? I can hold your hand if you want. We could get you some numbing cream. I’ll do anything if it means you’ll be a little more relaxed.” His other hand rubs the back of your calf, feeling your tensed muscles. He really would do anything to help you feel less stressed about this shot, espically considering how he would be given them with little to no warning and forcefully.

Once both of you knew you were for sure ready, he quickly but gently injected your thigh while he kissed the skin around it softly. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’m here for you. I always will be.”

From his gentle touch, soft kisses, and reassurance, the shot felt like nothing. You were smiling the whole way through from how much he simply cared for you. God, he made your heart melt.

JAKE LOCKLEY .

Jake was on the fence at first when you asked him to help you with your T. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no.

“Would it be better if I did it? Do you want me to hold your hand while you do it? You sure you trust me to do this?”

He felt so appreciative that you were giving him the option of injecting you with your first shot, but he also didn’t believe he deserved to do it.

Once you convinced him that you really wanted him to do it, he accepted it with a prideful and happy smile.

“No, no, no. Don’t even think about it. Let me get everything for you. Don’t move a muscle, mi amor.”

Jake was insistent that you relax while he does everything he can to make this moment memorable, comfortable, and happy. He kept rambling about how happy he is for you and that he’s proud of you for bringing it up with your doctor.

Some time later you were sat comfortably on the couch. He got your favorite blanket, some pillows to go behind your back. He lowered himself onto one knee and carefully prepared the liquid into the syringe.

You both decided that he would inject the testosterone into your thigh. He softly asked you to take some deep breaths with him before counting down until the needle reached your skin.

Jaked talked you through the whole dose of testosterone. His opposite hand slipped under your shirt, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip.

“One, two, three… There you go. You’re doing great, cariño. It’s almost all gone. You’re so strong. You’ve got this!”

Once he was done he got himself up off the floor, kissed your forehead, and safely disposed of the syringe. He gently ran his hand over your thigh with a subtle smile on his lips. He was incredibly proud of you, and himself for helping you out.

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Twelve

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut !!! (Oral / Very suggestive language) mild anxiety, fluff, alcohol/drinking (it’s a bar, we know this) VERY brief themes with grief, silly banter, flirting, and Come On Eileen mentions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Charlotte thinks herself into a little spiral, landing her at the bar. Josh must have made her drink strong tonight, because she definitely made a choice!

Author's Note: Oh babies, I have been vibrating with excitement to post this chapter. We’ve made it through the dry-spell!! 🫡🫦 have fun!!

Talk (Unreleased) - Harry Styles "Don't ask me to talk about, I don't wanna talk at all."

“Maybe she was right. Maybe they were both right. I should just live a little,” I mutter to myself as I pace the house. You deserve to be happy; just let it happen. 

Daydreaming about the precious long-haired boy who has my stomach in knots. The way I still can’t believe we kissed more than once. It was hard to deny how sweet he was. Always made sure I didn’t walk to my car alone at night. Asking me to text him when I make it home. Checking that it’s okay that he kissed me, even though I went for him first. 

I’ve never met someone who had me so smitten so quickly. It would be a lie to say I’m not a little nervous, but I’m trying to do right by Cassie. She told me to stop thinking myself out of happiness and so .. I’m trying not to think too hard. 

I wish I needed to be there today. 

Mindlessly tidying up to try and keep myself distracted, I look through the handful of books sitting on the coffee table. For transparency’s sake, they are all romances. Maybe it’s because I just don’t have anything non-fiction on my to-be-read list or the fact that I feel like I’ve seemingly met a man written by a woman; the world will never know. 

Flipping one of them over to read the summary on the back, in italics, reads ‘friends with benefits.’ It stops me in my tracks, metaphorically. ..That’s a bad idea.. Right? I shake my head, trying to rid the idea entirely. Tossing it back on the coffee table and staring at it like it just insulted me personally. 

I pick up my phone, seeing the time, 4:03 pm, with an unread message from him.

Jacob: someone keeps queuing up the same song on the jukebox and I cant stop laughing

Jacob: idk how many times you can listen to Come On Eileen before you lose your mind but I have to be close to it 

I laugh at the idea of him losing it while behind the bar, especially with how calm his demeanor is. I can’t picture him being distraught. What if I just went and got a drink? That wouldn’t be weird, right?  

Me: Too many ‘too loo rye ay’s for you huh?

I mean, we are basically friends at this point and we’ve made out twice.. I don’t think me going to the bar for a drink would be .. wrong?  Staring at my leggings and fuzzy socks, I get up and quickly walk into my bedroom. I stare at myself in the full-length mirror; my hair is still fairly curled from last night. 

I pull out my olive cigarette pants, toss them onto my bed, and start digging through my closet. Finding an off-white sweater hiding in the back, I think I can make this cute. Changing into those and standing in front of the mirror, I tuck the bottom of the sweater up into the band on my bra, cropping it slightly. 

“That feels better, I think,” I mumbled to myself. I slide my belt through the loops, pulling things together even more. Adjusting my necklace to sit on top of the sweater, moving the clasp back to it’s rightful place. 

I grab my phone from the bed, take a picture in the mirror, pulling up the group chat; 

The Laid-Ease 🤩

Me: [sends photo] is this cute? 

Quinn: YES YES YES

Willa: very!!

Mel: Oooooo! Yes 😍

I smile at their responses, feeling a little more confident in my impulse decision. I sit in front of my mirror with all my makeup next to me. I take my time, making sure everything looks how I want it. I typically stick with natural-looking makeup because I’ve always liked my freckles and don’t want to hide them. The least I can do is feel cute if I’m going to go sit at the bar, you know, just in case.  

Sufficiently killing enough time so that I didn’t get to the bar too early. Finding a parking spot proved to be a little more difficult tonight. But being further away, I was able to sit here for a minute before walking over. 

Is this a dumb idea? No Char- you need to just go inside and get a drink. Josh is probably bartending anyway, so he’ll probably just talk to you. 

Forcing myself out of the car, I slowly walk over to the bar, taking deeper breaths as I do, trying not to let anxiety win. I'm doing this for you, Cass.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Luckily for me, I found a seat at the bar, and Josh is an angel. Bringing me a drink quickly and chatting with me for a few minutes before checking in on other customers. 

I slide my book from my bag, making myself comfortable as I sip on my drink for a while. My thoughts get louder as the alcohol slowly hits me. Rereading the same page a few times before actually processing it. 

You know he’s here–just go say hi. Shaking my head as I swallow the last sip of my drink. It’s very unlike me to let anything like this even remotely happen. 

You’ve never caved in a work situation, it’s honestly shocking. Unprofessional if you ask me. Okay but to be fair– none of the people I've had to work with look like him. You really can’t blame me for having eyes. 

Flipping the page of my book, I try to refocus. I wonder what he’s wearing today. Does he have his button up that he hardly buttons on? Jesus, what did Josh put in this drink? 

Forcing myself to read a few more pages before moving my bookmark into its new home. 

“Is Jacob in his office?” I ask Josh as he’s lingering close to where I’m sitting.

He nods quickly, “Where else would he be?” His eyebrows raise as he looks over at me, “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

I slide out of my barstool, adjusting my pants quickly. His office isn’t far down the hall; as I round the corner into the door frame, I take him in for a second. He’s so pretty. 

I gently knock to get his attention, watching his eyes light up as he sees me makes my stomach turn. Just go for it.

His sweet voice lingers in the room as he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

I swallow my nerves and whisper, “I know.” Stepping further into the small space, pushing the door shut behind me. Everything feels like slow motion again.

Turning to him, I’m barely taller than him while he’s sitting; I grab the sides of his face as I lean in. The feeling of his lips against mine makes my heart beat harder. I have kissed my fair share of men in my life, but none compare to him. The way his lips are so soft and how he goes for my bottom lip makes me wonder if he would ever sink his teeth into it. 

“Well, it’s nice to see you too,” he whispers through a small giggle, which makes me laugh with him. His hands gently rest on my waist. The way he looks at me, this man is going to be the death of me. 

I lean back in; this time, I can’t stop how desperate I feel. My hands find the back of his neck; my fingertips pressed into him like I’m afraid he’s going to run away. His grip on me tightens, pulling me closer. My legs bump into his knees; well, there’s only one way to solve this. 

Before I have time to think, I’m straddling his lap, his arms wrapped around me, my hands sliding up into his hair. Oh my god. My breath hitches as he lightly dances his tongue against my lip, and who would I be to deny him that? Goosebumps flood my body as he deepens the kiss, his grip on my shirt getting tighter, pulling me against him harder. I let my teeth grab his bottom lip, barely enough pressure to gently pull it back, when the sweetest little moan escapes him. 

The sound alone was enough to get a girl wet, but then he smiled. And dear god– isn’t his smile gorgeous? A little pink staining his cheeks, we quietly laughed together as I tucked my face into his neck. I breathed him in for a moment, feeling his hands slide up and down my sides. I felt him shift a bit before he pressed a kiss into the base of my neck, sending chills through my body.

He continues to litter slow kisses up my neck and under my jaw as I sit back up. He takes his time, barely lifting up when he moves so I can feel his breath as he inches his way up. Nobody had ever taken the time he had with me; it felt like he was savoring every kiss. 

My hands timidly moved from his neck down to his chest. If we weren’t here, I would be pulling this shirt off of him. Thankfully, his button-up shirts didn’t leave much to the imagination; I gently tugged on one side, revealing his collarbone that I let my fingertips graze. 

He hums against my skin before moving to press a kiss just under my ear. 

“Mmm,” he rasps quietly, “I could stay here all night.” His low voice sends shivers down my spine and makes my heart throb. I need him.

I stand up, grabbing his hands from my waist. 

“Stand up for me?” I ask quietly, and he doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He leans against his desk as I lean into him. It’s my turn to have some fun. 

I kiss down his jawline as my hands find his hips. Tracing along the top of his belt, I move my lips to his neck; his skin is so warm. Deciding to take my chance, I slide his belt over, starting to undo it. 

“Charlotte,” he whispers, “what are you doing?” 

I look up at him, stilling my hands, to ask, “Is this okay?” 

His eyes meet mine, looking back and forth for a moment like he’s trying to make sense of what I’m doing. But honestly, I’m also trying to make sense of it. 

“Of course, it’s okay. I just—“ he stumbles over his words before I cut him off with a kiss. 

I mumble against his lips, “Let’s not talk about it right now.” 

Quickly undoing his belt and popping the button on his jeans, my mouth is already watering. I drop down to my knees as I’m unzipping him, seeing his cock twitch as I do. He leans over me, flipping the lock on the office door. 

I can’t help but press kisses into his stomach just above his boxers, watching the goosebumps flood his skin. Gently tugging the waistband down, letting him free. Holy shit. My hand immediately ran down his length as I glanced up at him.

“All for me, baby?” Slips out, and he just moans quietly in response. What is he doing to me? His face reddening at the pet name, and my heart is pounding at the soft sounds coming from him. Letting my tongue run up to the tip before sliding him into my mouth. I can barely see him gripping his desk, the veins in his hands popping out harder, which only sends another shock through my body. 

Slowly taking more and more, I want to savor the moment. I’ve never wanted to be in this position more in my life. His little whimpers as I move closer to the base, making me throb. I pull my head back, stroking him for a second as I tease him more. 

“Don’t be shy, I wanna hear you,” I tell him. A strained moan falls from his lips. Before going back in for more, I tuck some loose hair behind my ears. Feeling his hands carefully gather all my hair as he wraps it around his fist, he watches me as I move my head quicker. The moans falling from his lips get louder as I pick up speed. 

Knowing he must be getting close, I say the one thing I know will get him going. 

“Come on, Captain.” 

His head drops back as his hand tightens its grip on my hair, he lets out a breathy, “Please.” 

“Let me have it,” I whisper, plunging my head down his length, feeling his little trail of hair barely touch my nose. I bob my head a few times before using my hand to help get him there, feeling his muscles tense before he finally spits out any sort of warning.

“Charlotte- fuck,” is all he can get out before his orgasm hits him. Hearing him moan my name makes my heart flutter. He accidentally tugs harder on my hair, not that I mind. But lettting go to brush the little hairs away from my face as I pull back and tuck him back into his boxers. 

I sat back on my feet, just admiring him in this state. His face was a little flushed, eyes still closed as a little smile crept onto his face. Finally looking down at me, he reached his hands out for me to take. Pulling me close to him as he kisses me, but I move my face back out of shock. 

“But I just-“ I start; most men I have been with would never kiss me after I did that for them.

“Who cares?” He giggles, pecking my lips a few more times. “Don’t even mind the taste since it’s on your lips.” 

“Oh,” is all I can muster. I was so severely unprepared for how secure he actually was in himself. Why is that so sexy? Have I really wasted that many times on guys who are just insecure? I truly didn’t think that something so simple would make him even more attractive, but here we are. 

“Should I sneak back out there?” I ask as he fixes his belt. 

“If you do, I’ll come out and keep you company,” he says, looking back up at me. He looks like he’s fighting a smile, which I can’t decide what option is cuter. I lean myself into him, pressing a few small kisses against his lips. 

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I whisper, wiping my thumb across his lip gently. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sitting back in my seat at the bar, I watch as Josh makes my drink for me. I can’t believe I did that. My mind races with what just happened, the sounds he made, the way even just the thought makes me shift in my seat. 

“Thank you,” I pipe up as Josh slides my drink over to me. He flashes me a toothy grin before hustling over to take someone’s order. I’m not even halfway through my sip when Jacob’s voice floods my ears. 

“You doin’ alright?” his English accent slips out. He sneaks behind the bar but not too far from me. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up,” I smirk, taking a sip of my drink. The corners of his mouth quirked. He grabbed the towel next to him before walking over to where I sat. 

“Is that so?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow up. The way he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room makes my body warm. I’ve never had someone make me feel like this before. The way he’s standing in front of me, propping himself up against the bar. How his toned arms are lightly flexed, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look past how nice* his hands are. 

“Maybe,” I squeak out, leaning into my hands to try and get a little closer to him. The grin plastered on my face was undeniable. Looking at him in front of me after what just happened makes my head feel dizzy, and I’ve only had one drink. 

“Well, I’m very sorry, honey,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I’ll be damned; he’s good at it. “Rude of me to leave such a pretty girl like you waiting.” He thinks I’m pretty.  

My mouth moves faster than my brain can when I respond with, “I’ll let it slide this time.” Letting my eyes wander all over him as if nobody could see me. Noticing the way he’s biting the inside of his lip, the little twitch in his hand as my eyes drop to them. The movement of his necklace when he leans forward only fills my head with horrible thoughts. The thought of them bouncing off his chest as he– 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, subtly biting his lip. “Promise.” The look he’s giving me makes my thighs clench together. 

“Oh, I’ll be looking forward to that,” I try to hide how nervous that makes me. I haven’t done anything with someone for a while, let alone having someone … do something for me. Usually on my own for that. 

He stares at me for another second before letting his head drop back a little. He stares at the ceiling before shaking it as he looks down. A soft little smile is on his lips. What is he thinking about that has him grinning like that? 

I cave, “What’s that face for?” 

He lets out a laugh, letting his smile grow, showing off his teeth now. His eyes rake over me again, his arms folded over his chest; he really is so cute. 

“It’s nothing,” he finally spits out. 

My eyebrows pull in, “I don’t buy that one bit.” Squinting at him as tries to do the same face back but not being able to hold it.

“I can’t say it right now,” he says, moving closer to the bar. He leans down, propping himself up with his elbows.

“Why not?” I don’t know what is in the air tonight, but I can’t stop myself from poking at him more and more. 

“It’s not the right place,” he laughs, “people could hear me.” 

“Just whisper it to me,” I excitedly spit out, “we can pretend it’s a secret.” I watch as he looks around the room, moves back, and mouths ‘hold on’ to me. 

  He pours two fresh beers from the tap, walks them over to a table, and grabs their empty glasses. He then wanders around the booths for a moment, making sure everybody is happy. I steal glances at him a few times, doing my best to not stare at him, but it’s hard. He’s a deceivingly intoxicating man; you’d never expect it because he’s so quiet at first. 

How he’s gone this long without a girlfriend is beyond me. I guess it’s also something we’ve never really talked about, so maybe he just didn’t care? I can’t imagine girls not liking him. He’s so precious; how could you not develop a crush on him? Oh– I hadn’t thought that hard about that part of whatever this situation is. Do I have a crush on him? But I don’t live here, so that could make him not want to pursue anything– I don’t live that far, maybe he wouldn’t care. My thoughts race with questions of whether I’m making a mistake or not. 

I don’t want to jump into a relationship this fast. I don’t want to waste more time, but I have to do something because I just know Cassie would punch me if I didn’t do this. Suddenly remembering the book that offended me earlier today, ‘Friends with benefits’ plays in my head. Maybe he would be okay with that..? That way I can make sure this is what I want to do. That sounds reasonable, right? I’d say we’re friends and who would say no to the benefits? He already promised me something, and I need to know what that is now.  

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I feel someone gently place their hand on my back. I look over to see him setting a few glasses on the bar. He’s so close I can feel the warmth coming off of him and smell his cologne. 

“Oh, sorry, excuse me,” he giggles quietly. Turning to leave, he stops, sliding his hand up to the base of my neck and lightly giving it a squeeze. He drops his head to whisper, “Was just thinking about how I can’t wait to hear your pretty voice moaning my name.” 

My jaw falls open as he says it; looking up at him, his face is flushed like he’s embarrassed to admit it. He gives me a slow wink before sauntering off to talk to customers, leaving me to think about that. I definitely need to know what he plans on doing to make it up to me now. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Our nightly routine begins once more as we walk in comfortable silence to my car. 

I quietly break the silence, letting out, “The sky looks so pretty tonight.”

His head tilts up quickly to take it in while I watch him. His eyes scanned all the stars and the light from the moon, illuminating him with no cloud in sight. 

“She really is amazing, isn’t she?” he spoke so softly, looking over at me. 

“Who..?” 

“The moon,” he chokes back a little laugh. “She’s incredible.” He looks so happy as he looks back up at the sky. The chill of November made it so I could see his breath as we walked, but it also kept me closer to him in hopes of stealing some of his warmth. 

Our hands timidly brush against each other a few times until he glances down, sliding his hand into mine. I just know Cassie is somewhere screaming over how  I am with him. I just look at our hands intertwined, the way his thumb just runs over mine, and smile when he squeezes a little to make me look at him. 

“Your chariot, madame,” he says, gesturing his free hand to my car. 

“Oh, thank you, sir.” I try to play along, letting a small laugh slip partway through. We just stood there in comfortable silence for a second, still hand in hand. 

“So,” he mumbles, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nod, fighting the urge to just stare at his mouth. 

“Drive home safe. Text me when you make it. You know the drill at this point,” his sweet giggle lacing the latter half. 

“Of course, mhm,” I tell him, moving a little closer to him, “I hope you have a good rest of your night, Jacob.” His eyes practically twinkling in the moonlight as I gaze at him. He leans in, his plump lips pressed into mine but backs up quickly with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Back to my full name already?” his smug little tone made me laugh. My hands grab the sides of his face, pulling him back in for another kiss. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to call you Captain in public after that,” I say against his lips; he lets out a small groan at the name. 

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he mocks me, stepping back and grabbing my hands. He pulls them up, placing little kisses across my knuckles. How is he real? He reaches past me to open my car door. 

“Now, get home before it’s too late.” 

I toss my bag into the passenger seat before sitting down and starting it. Turning to him one more time, looking up at him, I can’t stop myself from smiling. I grab his shirt and tug him towards me. His hand holding onto the doorframe, leans down, hovering over my mouth until I finally cave.

 “One more,” I mumble before closing the gap between us. He laughs into me, knowing I full well just stole his line. 

“I’ll be waiting for your text,” he says, pointing at me with his eyebrows raised as he moves back to shut my door. 

I sit there for a minute, just watching as he walks back towards the bar until he’s finally out of sight. I click on the address in my maps and set my phone in the cup holder. Looking back up at the moon, seeing how bright it is tonight. She is beautiful. 

I can’t take my eyes away from it, feeling the tears settling in, and into the quiet of my car I whisper, “I hope you’re proud of me, and god, I wish I could call you right now.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Thirteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Reply or fill out this form to be added to the taglist

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf

@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold

@i-love-gvf @takenbythemadness @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk

@broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @threadofstars

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @gretavanfan

@demonrat444 @hollyco @musicspeaks @wrldabomination @chloeshell1219

[hazelira]

one more day of you

warnings: terminal illness, emotional content, death themes

The morning light falls softly through the curtains, painting golden stripes across your shared bed. You wake to Jake's quiet breathing, his chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath your head. His arms are around you—warm, familiar, but trembling slightly. It’s in those little things now, how his hands sometimes shake, or his voice falters when he speaks. You’ve both known this was coming.

Leptomeningeal disease, causing symptoms like headaches, nausea, confusion, or difficulty moving. It often occurs in advanced stages of cancer and can be challenging to treat. You’d read the word once on your chart, printed cleanly on crisp white paper like it wasn’t the thing that would take you away. The cancer had spread to the leptomeninges—the thin, delicate layers of tissue protecting your brain and spinal cord. Jake hates the word because it feels clinical and sterile, too detached for something devastating. He only calls it “the sickness.”

You know this day will be your last good one. The doctors said so. “Make the most of it,” one had said gently, as if making the most of dying is something people could ever do.

You feel his lips press into your hair as he whispers, “You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” you echo softly.

Neither of you moves for a moment. You close your eyes and memorize this—his heartbeat in your ear, the feel of his fingers tracing small circles against your back. How can a person possibly capture something so fleeting?

“We’re going out today,” Jake says finally, his voice still rough from sleep.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit, though part of you wishes you could. Your limbs are heavy these days, weighted with fatigue that no nap can cure.

“You can,” he insists gently. “I’ll help you. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

His voice barely cracks on that last part, but you pretend not to notice. You know he’s been trying so hard to be strong. Strong for you. Strong for himself.

He helps you get ready. There’s no rush, no urgency—he combs your hair carefully, pulling the strands gently through the brush as if you’re fragile glass. Your body is fragile now. You’ve felt it changing. Some days, the headaches come fast, pulsing deep and low, while your vision dims at the edges. Other times, your legs fail, nerves tangled like the frayed ends of an old rope. You’ve fallen a few times, and Heeseung has always caught you before you could hit the ground.

Today, though, you feel steady enough for him.

You spend the day by the lake.

It’s your favourite spot—the one where the water looks almost endless, where the ripples stretch toward the horizon like hands reaching for something beyond sight. You sit together on a blanket, your back resting against his chest while he hums softly into your ear.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“What song is that?”

He pauses, the vibrations of his hum fading. “One I made up. I don’t know... it’s just for you, I guess.”

“You should write it down,” you tell him.

“I don’t need to. I’ll always remember it.”

The words hang heavy between you both because you both know the truth—there will come a day when he hums that song, and you won’t hear it.

Your hands are shaking again, and your motor skills haven’t been the same since the sickness spread. Jake notices, gently cradling your fingers in his. His touch is steady and deliberate. He brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing them as tears slide silently down his face.

You hate feeling guilty for leaving him as if this were something you could control.

“I wish I could give you more time,” you whisper.

“You’ve already given me everything,” Jake choked out. His voice is so soft, so broken. “Every moment with you… every smile, every fight, every time you told me you loved me. I don’t need anything else.”

The wind picks up slightly, carrying the scent of the lake toward you. You close your eyes and let it wash over you. You want to remember the feeling of the sun on your face, the warmth of Jake’s arms around you, and the sound of his breath catching in his chest.

When the sun begins to set, your energy is almost gone. You lean heavily into him as he carries you back to the car, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. His breathing is uneven from the weight—not of you, but of everything.

Back home, you sit in the living room wrapped in blankets while he kneels before you. The pain has started again, a dull throb deep in your spine. You wince, and Heeseung reaches for the medication.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm. “You’re hurting.”

You watch him press the pills into your palm, his hands shaking worse than before. You swallow them slowly, grimacing against the bitter taste. He kneels, his head resting in your lap as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

For the first time, you feel his tears soak through the fabric of your clothes.

“Please don’t go yet,” he whispers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur. “I’m right here.”

But you both know.

The clock ticks somewhere in the background; its sound is loud and unforgiving. You count each second because you don’t know how many more you’ll get.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you sing to me?”

He lifts his head, wiping his eyes roughly before nodding. You know it takes everything he has to push through the grief tightening his throat, but he does it for you. His voice cracks on the first note, but it doesn’t matter.

It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

And you let yourself drift into his voice, the memory of today, and the love you’ve shared for what feels like a lifetime.

When the sun rises the next day, Jake wakes to silence.

Your hand is still in his, and your face is slightly toward him. You look peaceful, and for a brief moment, he imagines you’re simply asleep.

Then it hits him.

The emptiness.

The stillness.

There’s no word for the sound he makes when he pulls you against him, his tears falling into your hair. There’s no word for the ache that settles into his chest when he kisses your forehead one last time.

“Thank you for giving me one more day,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You’re gone, but the sun rises, spilling light across your face.

And Jake sits there, holding you as if his love alone could keep you together.

Even now, he hums the song he made just for you—because he promised he’d never forget it.

And he never will.

The house feels wrong without you. Jake hadn’t noticed how quiet it could be—how the creak of the floorboards, the hum of the refrigerator, even the wind against the windows—could sound so loud in your absence.

It’s been three days.  

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, his fingers twitching as if reaching for something no longer there. You. Your scent still lingers on the sheets. If he closes his eyes and breathes deeply enough, he swears he can feel you beside him.  

But when he opens them, the bed is empty.  

Jake can’t look at the lake yet. He drives past it anyway, because not seeing it feels worse. He stops the car at the same spot where you both sat, where you leaned against his chest and let him hold you. The blanket is still folded neatly in the backseat—he hadn’t been able to touch it.  

The sun is setting, its light turning the water shades of gold and violet, like the heavens are mourning, too. Jake grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white, his breath uneven.  

“You said you wouldn’t go,” he whispers into the empty car. His voice shakes, anger bubbling beneath the grief. “You said you weren’t going anywhere. You promised.”  

He knows it’s not fair, that you didn’t want to leave him. He knows. But knowing doesn’t make the anger feel any less real.  

“You’re supposed to be here.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he bites down on his lip so hard he tastes blood. “Why aren’t you here?”  

There’s no answer. Just the sound of the water lapping at the shore and the distant cry of birds flying home.  

Home.

But his home is gone.  

Your clothes still hang in the closet. Jake tries to clean up one day, thinking maybe if he makes the house less you, it will hurt less. He’s wrong.  

The moment he pulls one of your sweaters from the hanger, it slips through his shaking hands and crumples onto the floor. He drops to his knees, clutching the fabric tightly, pressing it to his face.  

It smells like you. Like the lavender soap you loved and the faintest hint of vanilla.  

“I can’t do this,” he chokes out, the sobs finally breaking through.  

Jake hadn’t cried like this since the morning he woke to find you gone, but now the dam has burst. His tears stain the soft wool of your sweater as he gasps for breath, his chest heaving.  

“You’re supposed to be here,” he repeats over and over, as if saying it enough times might bring you back. But the silence presses in around him, mocking him.  

He doesn’t sleep much anymore. Nights are the hardest.  

Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of you. Sometimes it’s beautiful—he dreams of the lake, of you laughing, your smile radiant as the sunlight. Those dreams are the cruelest because when he wakes, for the briefest moment, he forgets.  

And then he remembers.  

Other nights, it’s nightmares. You slipping away from him, calling his name as he tries to hold on. He wakes drenched in sweat, chest tight, throat raw from screaming.  

One night, he dreams of the day at the lake. Of you leaning against him, asking about the song he was humming.  

“I’ll always remember it,” he’d told you.  

When he wakes up, he sits at the piano in the dark, the song replaying in his mind like a ghost. He presses the keys gently, the melody soft and broken. Each note sounds like a piece of him shattering.  

By the time he finishes, tears are streaming down his face again. He rests his head against the keys, the silence stretching endlessly around him.  

“Where are you?” he whispers. “Where are you now?”  

Days turn into weeks. People stop calling as much. They say things like “She wouldn’t want you to be sad,” and “You have to keep living.”

Jake hates it.  

Because he doesn’t know how to keep living when everything reminds him of you.  

The coffee mugs you used to bicker over—yours with the chipped rim that you insisted still worked fine—sit untouched on the counter. Your books, their spines worn and pages creased, still clutter the shelves. He swears he hears your voice in his head when he picks one up, remembering how you used to read aloud, your voice soft and full of wonder.  

“I just want one more day,” he whispers one night, sitting on the floor beside the bed. His forehead rests against the mattress where you used to sleep, his hand gripping the sheets as if you might be there, just out of reach.  

“Just one more day of you.”  

Eventually, he goes back to the lake.  

The sun is setting again, just like it had that day. Jake sits on the blanket—the same one he hadn’t been able to touch for weeks—and pulls your sweater over his shoulders.  

It’s too big on him, but it’s yours.  

For a long time, he says nothing. The wind blows gently through his hair, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and water. He stares at the horizon, his chest aching, waiting for something that will never come.  

And then, quietly, he hums.  

It’s the song he made for you.  

The sound carries across the water, soft and fragile, like glass. It’s broken in places, trembling like his voice, but he doesn’t stop. Because this song is all he has left of you now.  

And as the last note fades into the air, Jake lets himself cry.  

The sunset turns the sky shades of gold and violet, just like it did that day.  

And for the first time in weeks, he whispers, “I love you.”  

The words drift into the wind, lost somewhere between the earth and sky, and for a moment, he imagines you’re there, listening.  

And he wonders if somewhere, somehow, you’re whispering it back.  

The present comes crashing back like a punch to the gut. The flashback fades, leaving Jake sitting in the too-bright backstage lounge, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles are bone-white. The faint hum of conversation buzzes around him, the other ENHYPEN members talking softly, someone laughing across the room—but the sounds feel far away, muffled, like he’s underwater.

“Jakey?”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look up.  

Sunghoon stands a few feet away, concern painting his face as he peers at Jake. “Are you okay?”  

The question hangs heavy in the air, and Jake forces himself to take a breath. He’s been holding it, he realizes—holding it like he might stop himself from shattering into pieces. He drags his hands down his face, swallowing the lump in his throat before lifting his head.

“Yeah,” he lies, voice hoarse. “I’m fine.”

But he isn’t fine. How can he be? The ache is still there—a hollow, gaping void in his chest where you used to be. The memory of you clings to him like shadows he can’t shake, the song he wrote for you still humming faintly in the back of his mind.  

Jake knows the other members can see it—he’s quieter these days, smiles harder to come by, laughter sounding a little too forced. But they don’t push. They know him too well to pry when he’s not ready.  

Jay calls out, voice cutting through the haze. “Five minutes, guys.”  

The members begin to move around him, grabbing water bottles, fixing outfits, hyping each other up. Jake tries to focus on their voices, on the energy they always carry before a performance. He’s supposed to be a part of it—he always is. Walk The Line is their biggest tour yet, a dream for all of them. For their ENGENEs.  

And yet, here he is, sitting on the edge of a couch with his hands still trembling.

The walk to the stage feels impossibly long. The closer they get, the louder the sounds grow—the deep bass thrum of music vibrating through the walls, the roar of thousands of ENGENEs just beyond the curtain. It’s deafening and overwhelming, a wall of sound so alive it should make him feel invincible.  

But it doesn’t.  

Jake adjusts his in-ear monitors as he walks, his chest tightening with every step. He swears he can still feel your hand in his, your voice whispering, "You’re supposed to be here.”

He stops walking.

The others are ahead of him now, clustered near the stage entrance. Heeseung notices first, pausing to look back over his shoulder.  

“Jake? You good?”  

Jake lifts his head. For a second, the question lingers, like a challenge he can’t meet. Is he good? He hasn’t been good since you left. He hasn’t been whole.  

But then he hears it—the chant of ENGENEs calling his name, calling their names.  

“ENHYPEN! ENHYPEN!”  

It shakes him to his core, the energy crashing into him all at once.  

You had always loved his voice. Loved watching him perform, the way he poured his soul into every song, every word. You told him once, in your soft, fading voice, “When you’re on stage, it’s like you’re alive in a way no one else could ever be.”

Alive.  

Jake blinks hard against the sting in his eyes, the tears that threaten to spill. He doesn’t have time to break—not now. So he breathes, deep and slow, pushing your memory somewhere deeper for just a little while.  

Heeseung’s voice breaks through his haze again. “Jake?”  

He nods once, finally moving to catch up with the others. “I’m okay.”  

This time, it’s closer to the truth.  

The stage lights blind him as they burst into brightness, and the sound of ENGENEs’ cheers hits him like a tidal wave. It’s overwhelming. It’s electric. It’s everything.  

Jake steps into position, his mic warm in his palm, the opening beats of their first song rattling through the stadium. He forces a smile, even as his chest still aches. Because this—this moment—is what he has left.  

And maybe you’re out there somewhere, in the crowd, in the echoes of the music, in the spaces between the lyrics. Maybe you’re watching him. Maybe you’re proud of him.  

As he sings, the song he wrote for you hums faintly at the back of his mind, its melody weaving quietly beneath the performance. The tears threaten again, but he pushes through it, pouring everything he has left into every note, every movement.  

He sings for you.  

He always will.  

The crowd doesn’t see the way his hands tremble, or the way he closes his eyes just a little too long as he hits a note that feels like it’s pulling his heart from his chest. They only see Jake, their star, shining as brightly as ever.  

But he knows.  

You know.  

And when the song ends and the lights dim for a moment, Jake whispers, so quietly no one else can hear,  

“I miss you.”  

It drifts into the darkness, carried by the energy of the crowd, and for the first time in days, the ache doesn’t feel quite so heavy.  

Jake lifts his head as the lights burst back on, the roar of ENGENEs filling his ears once more. And as he smiles for them, he wonders if you’re smiling back, wherever you are.  

Because tonight, just for a moment, it feels like you’re still with him.  

And it’s enough to keep him going.

[little-worm-grant]

Spicy Jake: Aftercare

Jake Lockley x You (Fem!Reader) 1,532 words / 18+ only, no minors Masterlist. If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥ Summary: What if Jake took care of you after Marc had his way with you? Focusing on the aftercare, you find there's a gentler side to his rougher counterpart. Notes: Don't ask me what this is. You'll never take me alive. Warnings: Aftercare, post-rough sex, overstimulation, bondage/restraints, bruises and marks, creampie, established relationship, all the pet names, affection, comfort, fluff.

Jake was yanked all too violently to the front, taking a second to try and fight for some air back into his lungs. Eyes wildly scanning his surroundings. Expecting to be amidst some kind of fight, he discovered it was something else entirely. That last orgasm had sent Marc to the clouds and drawn Jake into the fray. Hadn’t been the intention of either of them, but Jake accepted it was what it was.

Couldn’t really complain when you were beneath him, your knees propped up with your back to him. Your face shoved into the sheets and your hands tied behind your back. His hand had been gripped around your waist and holding onto the ties of your restraints.

His cock spent but still buried deep inside of you. Any movement was sending your oversensitive cunt into a new spiral. Watching the mess spread out around where you both connected. It was spilling all down you both. He’d deducted you’d been at it while.

“Oh chica…”

His words came out in a soft drawl. Hips readjusting to watch you whine for him as he kept his movements slow but continued to thrust as deep as he could take it. His eyes trailed over the red marks and forming bruises the other brute left behind. Jake knew exactly which one of him had done this.

Always Marc who got his rocks off from controlling and using you to take out his frustrations. Steven was too desperate to please you. As for Jake? Well. Jake just wanted to treat you better than anyone else ever could. Most importantly, he wanted nothing more than to dote on you.

At the sound of his voice, you look over your shoulder up to him. If he thought your behind and ass looked bad, your face wasn’t looking much better. Red angry fingerprints scattered where he’d forced your jaw open and held it in place. Smeared lipstick and puffy red lips. The evidence of why your lipstick was like that remained at the base of his dick.

Mascara had streaked down your cheeks. Rosy from being slapped a few times. A dazed content smile spread across them. Jake couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than the sight of you like this. You looked happy, satisfied and ready for a little tenderness. He could do that.

Taking care of others wasn’t new for Jake. On those darkest of nights when Marc had gone looking for answers in the bottom of a bottle, it was always Jake taking over in the end. He stumbled to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Downing as much water from the sink as he could keep down.

Somehow he’d navigate the spinning fun house while hauling their asses back to bed. All so Steven could suffer the consequences more comfortably the following morning. Jake couldn’t always be there to take away the pain. Sucks to suck, Grant. He’d probably feel this in the morning too.

Jake reached for the knots around your wrists. Undoing the restraints. Pulling himself out from inside you. Hearing your softer groan turning into a whine and huffing in amusement.

“Mi amor. Went overboard did we? A little too oversensitive now, si?”

“Shut yourself up.”

You try to bite back. Sounded more exhausted than threatening. You sounded proud of yourself too. As you should. Jake wasn’t looking much better himself. Hair was all tussled and out of place. Sweat dripped down his chest.

“Ah, and so she still knows how to hiss.” Jake said to himself and laughed.

Gently he nudged your hips to bring you to lay down on your side. Shifting to lay down beside you. His face looking back at yours. You were too content to feel embarrassed that he got to see you in this state. Jake didn’t seem to mind at all. He reached up to stroke your face. Licking his thumb lazily to wipe some of the smears away.

“You’re going to have to be a lot fiercer than that to get me to shush, mi pequeña leona.”

“Mi pequeña leona.” You test the words on your mouth. “My little what?”

Much too tired to be doing anything about him. You always liked the way he looked so proud when you practiced more of your Spanish for him.

“My little lioness.”

He leaned in to press a kiss against your head. His hand reached down to stroke over your ribs and down along the side of your body. You shiver and try not to move much.

“Lioness? Why? Because I bite first?”

“Si.” Jake smiled a little more. You loved seeing the way the corners of his eyes creased. How relaxed and content he looked. Took a long time to bring his guard down.

He leaned up on his arm and looked around. Dropping his head back into the pillow beside you with a dissatisfied sigh. You gave him an expectant look. You knew what he was about to say, and so you waited for him to say it anyway.

“He never brings you a towel before he fucks you, does he?”

And there it was. Same old, same old. You smile knowingly. Would have laughed better if you had more energy to. It comes out quiet and distant.

“Would you get me some water too?”

“For you? Anything.”

He started to get up, but dipped back down quickly to kiss against your temple. Muttering the words close to your head.

“Should I run you a bath too?”

“No, it’s okay. Think I should sleep it off.”

“Sure thing, chica. Back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if you could. You hummed your amusement as Jake disappeared off past the bookcase and beyond. You moved to roll onto your back and winced. The uncomfortable tingling sting along your rear had you rolling back onto your side again.

You took solace in knowing Marc would be just as hurt to find out he’d not been there to take care of you after. As rough as he could get, he always did love relishing in the after care. Stroking your body, making you a meal, or massaging you where you needed it.

You smile when you see him coming back through the doorway. Carrying a glass of iced water with a silicone straw. There was a damp towel folded and draped over his bare shoulder. Carrying himself differently. You could tell by the way he sauntered to your side it was still Jake.

His knee came up on the bed and leaning over you, he helped you to lift your head up enough to drink. A firm hand held you until you nodded a signal you were finished drinking. The cold of it was refreshing and needed after how long you’d gone without. He brought the glass to his own lips to drink the rest, narrowly avoiding the straw in his eye. You hear a crunch of ice between teeth. He chewed while placing the glass on the bedside table behind you. Moving in to curl up behind you. Light kisses along your shoulder.

“Gonna clean you up and get you under the sheets. Tell me if I’m too rough.”

“Please, I’m not fragile.”

“If you say so.”

Jake reached for the damp towel and tugged it off his shoulder. Bringing it down in a slow rub down over your ass. You breathe in sharp and tensed up to the wet cloth. It’d been ran under warm water but left cold in its wake.

“Okay okay. Gentle. Please.” You breathe.

“Si señora.” Jake mutters. Dipping in for another kiss against your shoulder.

He cleaned you up. Manipulating your leg to hold it up while he wiped down between your sticky folds. You making a noise for him, but Jake knew better than to play into your mood of wanting more. You needed to rest. He was tired too.

Soon enough he was moving again, getting the sheets from under to help bring them over the both of you. You helped, kind of. Rolling over to face him in the move.

“My turn.” You say.

“Not tonight. You need to-”

“No not that. Roll over.”

“Que?”

“I want to cuddle you for a change. Roll over.”

Jake gave you a hard stare, you half-expected him to refuse or talk his way out of it. Instead, his features relaxed and he leaned in to chase your lips for one last kiss before turning his back to you.

Your leg hitches up to wrap around his waist. Arm under his neck. Chest against his back. You kiss into his hair. Feeling Jake’s hand wrap around your wrist for his thumb to stroke.

“Mi pequeña mochila propulsora.” He snickered and you hummed in confused amusement.

“What am I this time?”

“My little jet pack.”

You were both breaking into laughter. Jake turned to catch another kiss of yours. A little messy but he seemed to need the contact, so you lifted your head to meet him. You cuddled up into him and before long, sleep soothed any aches that remained. Jake didn’t move. Lay there for the longest time listening to you breathe before sleep caught up with him too.

[i2valeri]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ i <3 yang ! for todays shenanigans hani tries to bring valerie to her senses, because she doesn’t ACTUALLY believe a single soul could like her. 蝴蝶 so yang jungwon comes to the rescue.

valerie was definitely anti-social. she really didn’t know how to express her feelings, so it made her feel a tad bit odd in a group of loud introverts or hyper extroverts.

she didn’t force herself into any group hangouts or conversations, but of course her closest co-member, hani, always invited her to stuff without her being able to say no.

“I think val wants to come.”

“val likes those kinds of things.”

“we should invite val.”

valerie always depended on hani as she was 2 years older than her, practically her older sister. she was glad to have someone that could always stay by her side you know? someone that can help her fit in—

“valerie song!” the older girl snapped valerie back to consciousness, they were both sitting on the edge of the bed face to face, “valerie! come on! I can’t always be the one who’s helping you with getting along with your other members!” hani nagged the younger girl, while valerie just sighed.

“easy for you to say. any word that comes out of your mouth, suddenly everyone bursts into laughter.” valerie crossed her arms, kinda disappointed that just this one time, hani wasn’t siding with her.

“it’s not my fault I’m enfp.” hani pouted, valeire was right. the typical extroverted energetic girl who could make anyone laugh with her jokes, someone who was friendly and out going.

in-fact, valerie was the opposite of whatever hani was. valerie was infj, typically described as “INTJs look rather intimidating. INTJs are famous for their death stares.”

exactly what valerie was to almost everyone else.

“most of our members are sociable, val ! trust me ! it’s not hard to get closer with them!” hani held valeries shoulders, shaking her softly. “easy for you to say.”

“what would you do if I’m not there and you guys are together? sit quietly and not even spare a glance…?”

…that was the plan. valerie thought to herself, just giving hani a glance of guilt. “don’t tell me you were thinking it.” she wasn’t ACTUALLY planning to do it.. right?

“…” valerie stayed silent; looking down at the ground like she was taking into consideration, focused on thinking. “fine.” valerie had finally agreed to something, she agreed upon trying to get close to each member one by one.

“oh my god! yes! it will be so worth it when you guys are finally close !!” hani squealed in excitement, “who did you get closest with first? who’s the easiest to get close with?” valerie asked curiously.

“actually. come to think of it, it was jungwon.”

valerie definitely did not expect jungwon to come out of hani’s mouth, jungwon seemed like a quiet introvert, but when she saw him during hangouts and conversations, his personality said otherwise.

but sometimes, jungwon seemed a bit neutral when it came to valerie since she was someone he didn’t know yet personally, “jungwon ?! how am I gonna get close with him ?!” valerie asked in confusion.

“val.. trust me it’s gonna be easy for you—”

“hani. I noticed whenever I passed by jungwon he wouldn’t even spare a glance, when I said hi he would wave slightly and walk away. I swear… that man does not like me!” valerie ranted as hani watched her, waiting for a chance to talk.

“jungwon… doesn’t like you?” hani said in denial, “yes! he obviously doesn’t want to be associated with me.” valerie face planted into her pillow.

“oh my god val! who do you think is the one who’s always asking to bring you into conversations and hangouts? it wasn’t me… it was jungwon who always asked me to bring you into convos!” hani corrected her bestfriend, valerie.

“what?”

“val he wants to be close with you! he is always saying ‘i feel bad for val, i understand she can’t express her feelings. I wish I could talk to her’ yadaydada! that’s what he says val! he wants you to be included!” hani suddenly confessed,

“jungwon was the first person to bring you up in whatever we would do! he’s a caring leader… he loves all of the members! mostly you val… mostly you!” hani nagged the stunned girl.

so it turns out… every time she got invited… it was jungwon who initiated it ?! “wait… so if jungwon never initiated to invite me, would you have not invited me…?”

“of course not! but it was jungwon who always asked me to do it, val he’s shy to talk to you.”

“everyone is! they all like you, but it just seems like you don’t like them.”

“val this might seem straightforward. but they all do love you, they want to be closer with you. they hate the distance, they think your the one distancing from them.”

oh my fucking god! if this is what they think about valerie… what could they be talking about at dance practice right now …. ?!?

⠀

⠀ 🎐 𓂅 我爱你 . . !

⠀

“plan to talk to valerie has now officially started! who wants to start their idea first ?” heeseung stood up on the couch, like they were doing a whole project to finally stop being cowards and talk to valerie.

“what if we invite her to a restaurant and hang out? seems like we could get to know her more like that.” sunghoon smiled softly at the mere thought of overcoming the fear of talking to val.

“you guys are gonna make it awkward of how you don’t even notice her when were are all sitting together in the dining room.” jungwon said from across the room, arms crossed but not that far.

“so in simple terms… we go to her?” jay asked, his hand on his chin, head resting on his hand. “no shit sherlock, how could she go to us ?!” jake playfully hit jay on the shoulder.

“what if we go to her, we could watch a movie. her favorite movie! what’s her favorite movie?” sunoo said, while riki was finishing his sentences. “wait what’s her favorite movie?” riki asked.

“oh that’s hard…” jake thought hard, he thought ‘valerie’ but the sheer thought of val made him giggle and chuckle like a little kid. “I got nothing.” he sighed softly.

“heeseung, do you know?” the zoned out hamster who has still standing on the couch suddenly snapped out of it and turned to jake, “I don’t remember… if she probably ever told us, I was just looking at her most probably.” heeseung scratched his nape in guilt.

“jay? sunghoon? got anything?”

“nope.”

it was decided, the boys knew absolutely… nothing about what valerie liked or what she didn’t liked.. except for one. “guys. it’s dead poets society; she told us !! how can you not remember?”

“ohhhhh yeah” they said in unison, “i guess jungwon has one point score in val’s heart.” sunoo said sarcastic, but the boys obviously didn’t take it as a joke.

“so are we gonna talk to her?” ni-ki asked, the boy was clearly nervous. “what am i gonna do? dress up as a dead poets society character and suddenly we are two peas in a pod?” ni-ki joked around, but he was really in-fact scared to even make eye contact with the girl.

heeseung tapped on his hard notebook, making everyone turn to him. “plan initiated.. operation talk to valerie has now started.”

“if I talk to val I might shit my pants and pass out.. I can’t even look at her!” jake was going CRAZY. and so was everyone else, just by thinking that they were gonna finally talk to val.

thinking of @valerieace ?!

okay I loved this chapter. nd I hope you did too 🫶 if you read this first chapter THIS FAR I love you sososooso much. okay that’s it 🙏

[karcuck]

wow holy shit guys Jane Cucker real??? umm deserved??? totally????