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tongue-like-a-razor · 6 months ago

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Hotter Than Texas | Part III

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: Thank you for all the lovely messages about this series! I'm so happy y'all are loving it and are excited to see it continued <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2200+

Part I | Masterlist

“You got a girlfriend, Brad Bradshaw?”

Bradley looks over at you, sitting in his passenger seat in a green sundress, fiddling with a charm on your bracelet. “No,” he replies rather hoarsely, unsure how to interpret your question.

“Why not?” you continue, your tone light and carefree, as though you’re just asking about the weather.

“I dunno,” Bradley mutters uncomfortably, returning his attention to the road.

You look up at him abruptly and he throws you a brief glance; just long enough to see the concern on your face. “Think about it,” you suggest.

Bradley sighs, making a concentrated effort to check his blind spot before switching lanes – like driving could distract him from this conversation. Why doesn’t he have a girlfriend? He’s never really thought about it so, clearly, it hasn’t been at the top of his priority list. “The last girlfriend I had was in college. Didn’t last long, either,” he says, hoping this might appease your curiosity enough for you to change the subject.

“Hmm.”

He looks over at you again, wondering what you’re thinking. Wondering if you might consider this little detail a red flag. “I haven’t really met anyone I wanted to spend all my time with,” he says. Until now.

“Interesting,” you muse, leaning back into your seat as though you’re satisfied with this response.

“Is it?” Bradley asks, his gaze inadvertently coasting over your bare thighs every time he glances at you.

You shrug mildly, your fingers once again toying with your bracelet.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bradley asks, feeling temporarily bold.

“Mmm,” you deliberate, dropping your hands into your lap and slanting your head back against the headrest. “We’ll see.”

Bradley furrows his eyebrows, now watching you more than he’s watching the road. “What does that mean?”

“It means, we’ll see, sugar,” you respond absently. Then, suddenly, you spring up in your seat. “Apple orchard ahead!” you exclaim, pointing at the sign on the side of the interstate.

Bradley, more confused than ever, blinks between your outstretched arm, the billboard, and the road. “You want to pick apples?”

You give Bradley a look and say, “They’ll have pie!”

“Oh!” Bradley chuckles. “Say no more.” He makes a few lane changes so as not to miss the fast-approaching exit.

“We can have the pie for lunch,” you say, glancing at the clock on his dash.

“We can stop for lunch and then get pie,” Bradley proposes, hoping to once again enjoy the pleasure of your company at a restaurant.

You consider his offer and then counter with, “We can have some pie, then have lunch, and then have some more pie.”

Bradley laughs. “Sold.”

…

About an hour later, Bradley is sitting with you on a small dock overlooking a creek, the open pie box positioned in between the two of you.

“That’s a fresh pie,” you comment, sticking your fork into the flaky crust.

Bradley grins at the top of your head as you lean over the box to take a bite. For some reason, your obsession with pie supremely amuses him. “You’re fucking adorable,” he says before he can stop himself.

You freeze with the fork in your mouth and then slowly blink up at him, your eyes searching his for a moment before you sensually draw the fork out of your mouth and then lick it for good measure. Bradley nearly has a heart attack. You smirk at him playfully and then get to your feet. “You think?” you ask, as though you want to hear him say it again. You bend over slightly and lift your leg to remove a sandal.

Bradley watches you gracefully step out of your shoes while beads of sweat collect under the collar of his t-shirt. How could he have let that kind of thing slip?

“Fancy a dip, Rooster?” You eye him mischievously.

Bradley gulps as you bunch up your sundress, exposing more of your legs than he should ever get to see, and dip a toe into the water. The current bubbles around your foot.

“It’s cold!” you squeal, lifting your foot out of the water with a laugh.

Bradley chuckles, getting up as you hop in your excitement on the edge of the dock. “Careful,” he cautions, holding his arm out in case you fall. “Don’t slip.”

You plunge your whole foot into the water before promptly removing it with a splash and a yelp.

“Come on,” he says. “How cold can it be?”

You giggle, taking a hold of his arm as you once again lower your foot into the creek.

Bradley lets his hand close gently around your elbow, steadying you while your toe makes circles in the water.

“How deep do you think it is?”

And before Bradley has a chance to respond, you make your way to the bank and take several steps into the creek, squealing as you go. Bradley shakes his head with a laugh as you wade further in.

“What’re you waitin’ for, handsome?” you call to him when you’re about knee deep in the water.

Bradley, who’s pretty sure he’s going to be replaying that line in his head for the next week, strolls up the dock toward the bank. He slips off his shoes and stands on the slope for a moment, letting the water lap at his bare feet.

“It’s freezing, right?” you exclaim giddily.

Bradley shrugs as he finally enters the – admittedly frigid – water. “It’s nice,” he says. “Refreshing.”

You snort as he strides toward you and, when he’s close enough, you dip your hand into the water and splash him.

“Hey now,” he cautions. “Don’t start something you wouldn't want me to finish.” He’s deep enough now that the bottoms of his shorts are skimming the surface of the water.

You giggle and splash him again – harder this time.

Bradley shakes his head, lowering his hand into the water. “Just remember,” he says, “you asked for this.” And then he glides his hand along the surface, sending a cluster of water droplets in your direction.

You screech, covering your face and, not a moment later, start a boisterous aquatic attack, showering him with icy water and completely impairing his visual field. The skirt of your dress floats in the water like a lily pad as you retreat deeper into the creek.

Bradley, who’s now soaked from head to toe, peels off his t-shirt and tosses it onto the dock. Then, he follows you deeper. “You’ve been warned, princess,” he says, gathering a wave of water and sending it in your direction.

You scream as the giant splash drenches you entirely. You stand still for a moment, accepting your fate, and then you wrap your arms around your shoulders, shivering as you glance up at Bradley whilst water drips from the tip of your nose. “I’m all wet!” you shriek.

Bradley laughs, finally approaching you. “What did you expect?”

“That you’d let me win!”

Bradley eyes you with a smirk. “Let you win? Honey, you don’t know me at all.” Bradley can’t remember the last time in his life he’d used so many pet names, but, looking at you, they just keep rolling off his tongue.

You pout at him, your lashes dripping water every time you blink. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. “Your lips are turning blue,” he says, noticing that your teeth are starting to chatter.

You let Bradley lead you out of the water and, once you’re back on the bank, you start to wring out the bottom of your sundress. The wet material sticks to your curves invitingly and Bradley begrudgingly looks away.

…

“Want me to drive for a while?” you ask, approaching the car.

Bradley looks over at you with an amused smirk as he pulls open the passenger door. “Nope,” he responds.

“You don’t trust me with your precious Bronco?” you ask playfully.

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “I just don’t mind driving.”

“Neither do I.” You shrug.

Bradley ponders for a moment before replying, “Next time.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Planning another road trip with me already?”

Bradley feels the unwelcome – but vexingly predictable – stutter of his heart as you continue to hold his gaze. He tightens his grip on the frame of the door he’s still holding open because he can’t very well sink his hands into you. Not only are you much younger than anyone Bradley’s ever dated, you’re also Hangman’s little sister, a reality so unfortunate that it almost feels contrived. Of all the girls in the world, why does he have to be so utterly infatuated with you? After a few seconds of – we’ll call it deliberate – silence, he grins. “If you’ll have me,” he says.

You smile. “Fun,” you say, drawing a little closer to the passenger door – a little closer to Bradley. “Where are we going?”

Bradley gulps uneasily. “Anywhere,” he says, his voice raspy and uneven.

You graze your teeth over your bottom lip and Bradley could swear that the heat of the afternoon sun is about to melt his very bones. “I’ve always wanted to take the scenic route to Alaska,” you muse, pursing your lips.

Bradley watches you unblinkingly. “Let’s go,” he says.

You let out a peal of laughter and slap him lightly on the chest. “Can you imagine?” you exclaim.

He can. “It’s a bit in the opposite direction,” he says somewhat ironically. “But anything’s better than the desert,” he concludes, slowly shifting his weight after standing very still for a very long time.

You smile at him sympathetically, as though you can tell he’s suffering greatly. “Rain check?” you ask softly.

Bradley, who is absolutely sure that there isn’t a single organ in his body left uncooked, comments facetiously, “Does it ever rain here?”

…

“Let’s stop for some coffee,” you say about half an hour after getting back on the road.

If Bradley didn’t know any better, he’d think you might be finding excuses to extend the trip. “With a pinch of salt?” Bradley teases you, but obediently merges onto the offramp.

“I’m thinking of switching majors,” you say quietly, as though you’re unsure whether you really want to share this information.

Bradley glances over at you as he pulls up to a red light. “Sounds like you might need something a little stronger than coffee.”

You snort loudly and then let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m thinking you might be right, darlin’.”

Bradley’s heart races as he pulls into the lot of the first bar he sees. Frequenting watering holes is absolutely on the list of things Bradley should not be doing with his colleague’s baby sister. But you seem like you need to get something off your chest. And Bradley can’t imagine a more ideal way to spend an evening.

The tavern is low-lit and crowded, and you shift slightly closer to his side upon entering. Bradley instinctively places a hand on your back, like it’s meant to be there or something. He guides you through the packed bar toward an empty table near the back and waves down a server before taking a seat across from you.

He slides you a cocktail menu and watches you peruse it without saying a word. When the server arrives, you order a paloma.

Bradley orders a whiskey neat and fixes you with a weighty look once the server departs. “You want to talk about it?” he asks.

You shrug. “We can.”

Bradley continues searching your face. “Do you want to?”

You sigh and look down into your lap. “Nobody knows yet,” you admit. “I’m halfway through my junior year so switching would really set me back.”

Bradley nods sympathetically. He knows all about being set back. “What are you thinking of switching to?”

“Psych,” you respond hesitantly.

Then the drinks arrive and you fall uncharacteristically silent. Bradley takes a sip of his whiskey while you down a quarter of your cocktail in one gulp. “You want my advice?” he asks. “Or are you just sharing?”

You meet his gaze distantly. “My parents are gonna flip shit,” you says monotonously, as if you haven’t even heard his question.

Bradley smirks at you. “It’s their job to overreact,” he says. “They just want to protect you.”

You absently run your finger around the rim of your glass. “My brother’s gonna question my judgement. Say I’m making a mistake.”

“Your brother has questionable judgement, himself,” Bradley points out.

You let out a small chuckle. “I wish I knew both outcomes before making a decision.”

Bradley could sure relate to that feeling. “Sometimes, you just have to go with your gut. It may not apply here, to be honest, but this guy I know – one of my superiors – he uh, he has this motto: ‘Don’t think, just do.’ I’m not saying yours has to be a split second decision. But, if it were, and you had to decide this minute, without weighing the consequences or talking it over with your family, what would you choose?”

You blink up at him soberly and state, “Naval Academy.”

Bradley’s eyes widen stupidly as he processes your words. “That” – he croaks, then clears his throat – “that’s not psychology.”

You suck in your cheeks and solemnly shake your head.

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

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ilovemilestellersmoustache · 4 months ago

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Country Boy’s Dream Girl

Jake Seresin x Reader

WC: 2K

Summary: Jake meets an old friend at the bar while visiting his family in Texas

Jake "Hangman" Seresin sat back in his worn leather chair, the cool breeze from the open window brushing against his skin as he stared at the familiar yet distant skyline of San Diego. The golden hour light filtered through the palm trees outside, casting long shadows over the simple furnishings of his rental home. The city’s endless sunshine and soft waves, which had once seemed idyllic, now felt like a constant reminder of something missing. The rhythmic crash of the ocean against the shore, the warm breeze carrying the scent of salt, all of it should have been comforting, but lately, it only amplified the restlessness simmering within him.

His gaze drifted over the distant horizon, but his thoughts were elsewhere—somewhere filled with rolling hills and wide-open skies. Austin, Texas. That’s where his heart kept pulling him. San Diego, with its picture-perfect beaches, had served him well, but it never felt like home. Home was where the dusty trails stretched out beneath his boots, where the heat wrapped around you like a blanket, and the sound of cicadas filled the evening air. It was where the people knew you, really knew you, not just your call sign. It had been months since the Dagger Squad's last mission, and though the Navy had served as a distraction something in him felt restless. San Diego was nice but it wasn’t home. Home was Texas.

His phone buzzed on the wooden table beside him, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced down, the screen lighting up with a message from his sister: "Can’t wait to see you! The kids have been asking about Uncle Jake nonstop."

Jake’s lips curled into a smile, soft but genuine. He loved his sisters and their families, loved the rowdy chaos of his nieces and nephews whenever he visited. They always made him feel grounded, like no matter how high he flew or how fast he lived, they would always be his soft landing. And now, after months of jet-setting and the endless pace of military life, he was more than ready to touch down for a while.

The Navy had given him the excitement and adrenaline he craved, flying high above the clouds, pushing the limits of speed and skill. But even in the thrill of flight, there was always the need for a safe landing—a place to return to. For Jake, that place had always been Austin. After months of deployments and the constant go-go-go of military life, the thought of heading home to his roots felt like a breath of fresh air.

Jake’s flight touched down at Austin-Bergstrom Airport late in the afternoon. The moment he stepped off the plane, the thick humidity greeted him like an old friend. The heat clung to his skin, not oppressively, but with a warmth that felt familiar, grounding. As he made his way through the terminal, the sounds of Austin wrapped around him—the twang of country music playing softly in the background, the faint drawl in people’s voices. It all felt like slipping into a favorite pair of boots, worn in and perfectly molded to fit.

His parents were waiting for him just past security, their faces lighting up as soon as they saw him. His mother wrapped him in a tight hug, the smell of her familiar perfume tugging at memories of childhood, while his father clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm, reassuring.

As they drove home, the landscape of Texas unfolded around them—endless fields of wildflowers, the horizon stretching out beneath a brilliant blue sky. They talked about everything and nothing, the conversation easy, the silence between them filled with the comfort of people who didn’t need to fill every space with words.

"Y’all planning on going out tonight?" his dad asked, his eyes cutting over from the driver’s seat with a knowing smirk.

Jake’s mother chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with the same mischief she had always had. "You know his old friends won’t let him stay in on a Friday night."

Jake grinned, a flood of memories rushing back—nights spent at the local bar, a spot they’d practically lived in during their teenage years. The steady beat of country music in the background, the clink of beer bottles, and the easy banter between friends. His high school buddies, the ones who had stayed in Austin and the ones who had left but always came back, were more than just friends—they were family, just like Austin was more than a place; it was home.

"You know me," Jake said, his grin widening. "Can’t say no to a good ol’ night out with the guys."

By the time he arrived at the bar that evening, the sky had darkened into a deep, inky blue, the stars twinkling above like old friends. The neon lights outside the bar flickered, casting a colorful glow over the parking lot filled with trucks. The familiar hum of country music drifted out from inside, mixing with the scent of barbecue from the joint next door. As Jake stepped inside, the sights and sounds hit him all at once—the twang of a guitar, the hum of voices, the scent of spilled beer and whiskey mingling with worn leather and sweat.

The bar was filled with familiar faces, people he hadn’t seen in years but who greeted him like no time had passed at all. But amidst the laughter and catching up, his eyes landed on one person who made the world around him seem to slow down.

Y/N stood near the bar, her laughter carrying over the crowd as she tossed her head back, the kind of laugh that turned heads. She looked every bit like the girl he remembered but with something more, something that drew him in like a magnet. Her long, sun-kissed hair cascaded down her back, her low-rise denim shorts showing off tanned, toned legs. She wore worn-in cowboy boots and a tank top that fit her perfectly, effortlessly blending casual with a kind of understated allure.

Jake couldn’t look away.

Jake had always remembered her as the wild, untamed spirit from high school—the girl who could be the life of the party one moment and disappear into the Texas wilderness the next. She was known as the princess of the school coming from a prim and proper family, the epitome of a southern belle Y/N was. Till her family looked away then Y/N wasn’t just a pretty face anymore; She wasn’t like the other girls who strutted around in heels and short skirts, playing the part of arm candy for boys who didn’t care about anything but looks. She was the kind of girl who could drive a four-wheeler through an old red road, cranking Curtis Loew, line dance until the sun came up, bonfires out in the fields and tailgates. If that was what anyone was looking for they wouldn’t have too look any further. She’d always had a wild side that set her apart, a fire that made her untouchable to anyone who couldnt match her energy. One that attracted attention but also scared off anyone who wasn’t up for the ride.

And Jake? Jake was up for it.

As he watched her now, twirling on the dance floor with her friends, her cowboy boots scuffing the wooden floor as she moved to the beat. She was all energy. Jake felt something stir deep in his chest. She was untamed, all energy and movement, a force of nature that was impossible to ignore. When she grabbed the mic for karaoke and belted out an old country tune, the crowd cheered her on, her voice unpolished but full of heart. She commanded the room without even trying. She wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t need to be. She was magnetic.

Jake realized he’d been staring at her all night, and for the first time he felt nervous. He’d flown high-speed jets, faced impossible odds, but this—walking up to Y/N after all these years—felt like a leap into the unknown.

Finally, after another round of drinks and a deep breath, he stood, squaring his shoulders. Come on, Seresin. He told himself. It’s just Y/N.

her eyes met his, that slow, easy smile spreading across her lips, Jake knew this wasn’t just a casual encounter. This was something more.

As he approached her, she caught his eye and smiled, the kind of smile that could stop traffic. “Well, if it isn’t Jake Seresin,” she said, her voice a mix of surprise and amusement. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah, it has. You look good, Y/N. Still stealing the spotlight, I see.”

She laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, you know me. Can’t help it. What brings you back to Austin? Thought you were too busy saving the world these days.”

Jake shrugged. “Home’s always home. Figured I’d come back for a few weeks, see the family. And it’s good to see you too.”

Jake chuckled, trying to play it cool as he leaned in closer, resting his elbow on the bar beside her. “Can’t stay away from Texas too long. It’s in my blood, you know that.” His eyes lingered on her a moment longer than necessary. “Besides, I had to see if Austin was still the same.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, tilting her head just slightly. “Still the same? You think Austin’s the only thing that’s changed, Jake?”

Her words hung between them, the weight of their shared history filling the space. Back in high school, Jake had been the golden boy—the one who everyone thought would soar higher than anyone. He had, of course. But in doing so, he’d left everything behind, including the people who knew him before he was “Hangman.” And Y/N, with her rebellious streak and free spirit, had been the one he never quite figured out how to speak to.

“Guess I’m here to find out,” he said, his voice softer now, more serious as he met her gaze head-on. “What about you? Still causing trouble wherever you go?”

Y/N laughed, the sound rich and full of life. “Trouble follows me, Jake. You should know that by now.”

The banter was easy, familiar, but beneath it all was an undercurrent of something deeper. They’d always had that between them—an unspoken connection that neither had fully explored. Back then, life had been all about fast cars, late nights, and chasing whatever adventure they could find. But now, as adults, the stakes felt different.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “Well, it’s good to see you too, Jake.” She took a sip of her drink, then set it down. “You wanna dance? Or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?”

Jake laughed, feeling the last of his nerves dissolve. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Y/N hesitated for only a split second before placing her hand in his. “Alright, Seresin,” she said, a teasing edge in her voice, “but don’t think you can keep up just because you can fly a jet.”

The two of them moved out onto the dance floor, the familiar beat of a George Strait song playing in the background. Jake hadn’t danced in ages, but it came back to him quickly. And Y/N? She moved like she was born on the dance floor, guiding him through the steps, her body close to his. It was easy, comfortable, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the noise, the crowd, the years between them.

“So,” Y/N said, her voice light but her eyes searching his. “How’s life been treating you, Mr. Navy Pilot? Saving the world one flight at a time?”

Jake smirked, spinning her effortlessly before pulling her back into his arms. “Something like that. The flying’s great, but it’s not all action movies and glory like people think.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “I bet. It’s gotta be hard being up there all the time, away from everything.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. There was something in the way she said “away from everything” that hit him harder than he expected. Because it wasn’t just about flying; it was about what he’d left behind—who he’d left behind. Austin, his family, his friends… Y/N. For years, he’d been chasing the thrill of the skies, but now that he was grounded, here with her, he realized how much he’d missed what was right in front of him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, looking down at her. “It is.”

For a moment, they just moved together, the music carrying them as the world around them blurred. It felt natural, like they’d been here a hundred times before, even though they hadn’t. And maybe that’s what made it feel so right.

As the song came to an end, Jake reluctantly let her go, but not before he caught the flicker of something in her eyes—something that mirrored the way he was feeling. This wasn’t just a casual reunion, and they both knew it.

Y/N’s eyes flickered with something he couldn’t quite read, but before she could respond, the song ended, and the moment was interrupted. The crowd cheered as another round of karaoke started up, and Y/N’s friends called her over.

“Looks like they need me,” she said with a smile. “But hey, don’t be a stranger, Jake. It’s been nice catching up.”

Jake watched her walk away, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t ready to let her go, not yet. So, in a burst of confidence, he called out to her.

“Wait! How about a duet?”

Y/N turned around, surprised. “A duet? You sing now?”

Jake smirked. “No, but I figure you could make me look good.”

She laughed, walking back over to him. “Alright, Seresin. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Later that night, after they’d belted out a slightly off-key version of a Kenny Chesney song and shared a few more dances, Jake couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. She was like a sky full of stars, lighting up everything around her, making him feel like maybe—just maybe—he could have something real with her.

Before he could overthink it, Jake spoke. “What do you say we get out of here? Maybe take a drive? Catch up somewhere quieter.”

Y/N’s smile widened, that familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. “You sure you can handle that, Seresin? I don’t wanna be responsible for getting you into trouble on your first night back.”

Jake grinned, already reaching for his keys. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ve been in plenty of trouble, but I think I can handle whatever you’ve got in mind.”

The two of them ended up in Jake’s truck, windows down, the warm Texas night air rushing in as they cruised down a familiar country road. The radio played softly, but neither of them paid much attention to it. Instead, they talked—really talked. About everything and nothing, about what they’d been up to, the paths their lives had taken, and all the things that had changed since high school. The cool Texas night air wrapping around them, Jake felt the urge to pull her close, to kiss her under the stars like some kind of old country song in his old tee and faded jeans. But he held back, not wanting to rush things.

Y/N told him about her life in Austin, about the business she’d started—something Jake never would’ve guessed she’d do, but somehow made perfect sense. She still had that wild streak, but there was a groundedness to her now, too. She had roots, something Jake had always admired from afar but never quite managed to plant himself.

“You seem happy here,” Jake said after a while, glancing over at her as they pulled off the road, parking under a wide-open sky filled with stars.

“I am,” Y/N replied, looking out at the horizon. “It’s not always easy, but I love it here… It’s home.”

Jake nodded, the word “home” settling in his chest like a weight. Home. That’s what he’d been chasing, wasn’t it? Not just a place, but a feeling—a sense of belonging. And sitting here, with Y/N by his side, it was starting to feel like maybe he’d found it.

She was this country boys dream girl.

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