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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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i’m so done 😩😭

Trouble in Paradise | 1.8 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Epilogue | Masterlist

Synopsis: After the most painful break-up of his life, Rooster is stationed in Hawaii for the next six months. Alone, away from home and hurting, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.

Warnings: no use of y/n, age gap (rooster is in his mid-30s, reader is in her early 20s), mentions of sex and betrayal, pregnancy scare. Angst

…

Rooster’s thumb strokes back and forth over the back of your hand. It’s slow and delicate, he’s got his head leaned back and he’s looking at the ceiling. His chest rises and falls softly.

He seems so calm.

You’ve stopped crying now, but you’re still far from calm. You’ve been staring at the spot on your wall where the paint is a slightly different shade from the rest. It’s from a night that you came in drunk with Kit and she accidentally fell and kicked a hole in the wall.

It wasn’t that long ago.

You’re not ready for a kid. The girl that sat on the floor, laughing hysterically at her friend’s foot stuck in the drywall, she isn’t ready for all of this. You wonder if he is. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’s so much older.

Sure, it’s an easy enough observation that the two of you aren’t the same age, when looking in a mirror. But the way you love him, the way he loves you - it’s easy to forget.

You think of the time he called you childish. You had just been extremely childish, but it had made you feel so small. So much less than him. Maybe it’s easy enough for you to forget that you’re younger. You glance across. Maybe it occurs to him often.

You wonder if he ever made her feel that small, made her feel like she’s worth so much less than he is. Probably not, what kind of woman would plan a future with a man like that?

It would make sense for Rooster to be ready, he was ready for marriage not that long ago. The two of them had probably discussed children.

It makes you nauseous, thinking of their plans for the future, and the grinding halt you put in them. It isn’t your fault, it’s his. You keep telling yourself that, but it just doesn’t feel right.

Somehow, you don’t feel blameless in all of this. Though, realistically, you know that Rooster wouldn’t be blaming himself if he was in your shoes. Your mother always blamed herself too.

Leaning your head back against the bed that you’re sitting against, you follow Rooster’s gaze and look up at the poster on the ceiling. It’s from a music festival he’s never heard of. Something you might never go to again once these six minutes are up.

You swallow softly.

Rooster drapes an arm around your shoulder and presses his lips tenderly to your hair. You hear him sigh softly. He rests his cheek on the top of your head. You aren’t sure how he feels about all of this. You didn’t really take time to ask.

He hasn’t asked how you feel about all of this either, but the sobbing told him exactly what he needed to know. He pulls you closer against his chest. You close your eyes, resting your cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

You’ve never thought about being a mother before right now. Even without a set plan, you hadn’t ever really incorporated kids as an option - why would you, after the upbringing you had?

You’re glad that his cheek is resting against the top of your head, that you can’t see his face - you’re certain that if you could, you would burst into tears again. You’ve been so stupid.

Joe and all of his deployments, all of those women - those separate love stories across three different continents. You had noticed the similarities, but before now, Amy had always played your mother’s role in the story. The woman left behind at home with a broken heart and the pieces of her own great romance, shattered and torn apart but still worth holding onto.

You weren’t playing that part.

You were one of the nameless women worth throwing it all away for. But it hits you now: one of.

You remember the arguments between him and your mother. Him insisting that he loved each one of them. That it wasn’t his fault, that this time was different. That she had to forgive him. - And she always did.

Just like you did. You forgave him.

Not Joe, you’ve made his life difficult pretty consistently for as long as you can remember, and he has always reminded you of that. But Rooster. Anger simmers softly in the pit of your stomach. Not at him, not at your father.

You swallow, refusing to cry.

The way Abigail has been looking at you recently sits in the front of your mind. It’s the exact same way you would look at your mother each time she forgave him. You never understood it.

Even back then, standing at the same height as the kitchen counter, wearing pyjamas with kittens on them, listening to her apologise for not being there like he needed her to be - you understood that she was being walked over. It made you angry, watching her be such a doormat.

You could see right through his lies. Each of them, even back then.

Sitting at the dinner table, your feet dangling below the chair, looking at her like she was so stupid. Wanting to scream ‘I told you so’ in her face when he eventually did leave for good. Hating her when she spent an entire week in bed, crying for him to come back. Watching her resentment towards you grow as you grew up, looking more and more like him.

Thinking that you would never be so stupid.

The timer goes off and your heart sinks. You press your face into his chest, fighting back a heavy sob. He wraps both arms around you, kissing the top of your head softly.

“Baby, can I check them?” He whispers, holding you tight against him. You nod your head, there’s no way that you could bear to check for yourself. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Rooster takes one hand off of your back, turning over each of the tests silently.

You hold onto him like it will change what’s coming, like if you can just keep him this close for a while longer then you’ll change your mind. You wish for something to change. Your heart aches, wishing things were different. You sniffle into his chest.

You love him, he loves you. He’s willing to stay here with you forever, and build a future together. In your heart, you know that this isn’t right. The puzzle doesn’t fit together quite right.

This isn’t your future. This isn’t yours to share with him. It’s hers. It was theirs. You don’t want it.

“It’s negative,” Rooster says quietly, his eyes firmly on the single pink line on each of the tests, he lifts his gaze to look you in the eye and nods to confirm, “All three. They’re all negative.”

His face doesn’t reveal much about how he feels about this answer.

Yours does. You let out a shaking breath of relief, tears burning your eyes as they rush forwards. You look back up at the ceiling, breathing hard. Rooster squeezes his arm around your shoulder and leans forwards, pressing his lips to your cheek, then your temple. He kisses your hair.

You cover your face with your hands. Rooster’s brows furrow as you shiver, your breath shaking. You try not to, you hate crying in front of people, but you sit at his side and sob.

“Hey, hey,” He wraps his arms around you, sighing softly, “What’s the matter? - I thought-“

Rooster takes your wrists in his hands, pulling them down so that he can see your face, “Are these happy tears?”

You should say yes. You are happy, in a sense, this is the answer you were hoping for. It’s just that now you know. Those six minutes of waiting have made you sit and think of every wrong choice you have made.

Your gaze meets those soft brown eyes and you crumble, throwing yourself into his chest, sobbing. Rooster wraps his arms around you once more. He kisses your temple tenderly and lets you cry for a few moments.

It’s a big thing, it’s scary, he knows that.

It’s just when you’re still sobbing, almost hyperventilating against his chest almost ten minutes later, he shakes his head and squeezes your shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get some air.”

The two of you walk down to the beach behind your house. Rooster lays down first, lifting an arm to shield his eyes from the sun. He jerks his head, motioning for you to join him.

You lay down in the sand at his side and let the remnants of the afternoon pass in silence. He was right, it does help. You stop crying and just keep thinking. You’re trying to find a loophole.

A way out of the course he has set the both of you on.

“You wanna talk about it?” Rooster asks, turning his head to look across at you. You stare at the sky and shake your head softly.

“Can I talk about it?” He asks with the same tenderness.

You turn your head, meeting his gaze, giving a soft nod. You’ve fallen for his words before, maybe you’ll do it again. You want him to fix this. You want to want him to stay.

“I’m happy they were negative,” He declares, turning his chin back towards the orange sky, tucking an arm behind his head. “Call me selfish but I want you to myself for a while longer.”

Your throat tightens and for a moment, you aren’t sure if you’re going to start crying again. He’s getting it wrong. You close your eyes and hold your breath. You’ve never really been one for faith, but you’re laying in the sand and praying for some kind of divine intervention that will make this path the right one.

“It’s too soon to be thinking about all of that stuff.” Rooster muses.

You open your eyes before he turns his head. You have time to erase your pained expression before he sees it. He wants a future with you - that’s what he’s saying. It might be too soon now, but it won’t be one day.

One day he’ll get down on one knee and promise to love you forever, and he’ll hurt you like he hurt her. He’ll hurt you like your father hurt your mother.

He’s looking at you now, his eyes a shimmering caramel with the orange cast of the sky. The faded scars on his cheeks, the slight bump to his nose, the smile lines that seem to have doubled since you met him. You stare at him with an aching heart, wondering if it’s worth it to endure all of the too soon time you have left with him.

You can love him like this. You can let yourself be loved like this.

But one day, it isn’t going to be enough for him.

Fucking in the backseat of a car from the seventies, walking down to the beach and sitting in the sand, being able to see the stars better than he ever has - it’s more fun than Rooster has ever known. But he’s going to want more.

A year, five years, maybe ten - if you’re lucky. Rooster’s going to wake up, forty-something, with a girlfriend who is more than happy to just mix drinks and talk to lonely patrons - and it won’t be enough for him.

“Do you really want kids someday?” You ask him quietly. Your voice is a little hoarse, you’re still trying not to cry, but it can be passed off as a remnant of your breakdown from earlier.

Rooster nods as he slips his hand into yours, his fingers between yours. He lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles tenderly, then rests your hand against his chest. His heartbeat is so steady. Yours is thunderous.

“Yeah, I want a family,” He’s certain about it. He has thought about this before. He hasn’t ever been ready, but his choice has never faltered. He looks across at you once more, sun soaked and smiling softly. “I want us to have a life together.”

“We already have one, this one,” You say quietly, your voice shaking as you speak. Rooster doesn’t seem to follow. This isn’t a life to him. This will never be enough. Still, you tell him what you need from him, “This is what I want. Us, here, together. I don’t want it to change.”

He chuckles softly and rolls onto his side, pushing himself up on his elbow. He leans over you, tenderly brushing his thumb over your warm cheek.

“I like this too, but y’know,” You watch him intently as he speaks, willing him to change his mind, to not finish his sentence. He shrugs his shoulders, “Someday.”

You shake your head softly.

Your heart aches as you realize that this is it. The two of you are never going to make each other happy. Either you give in, and become the paranoid, heartbroken woman that you left behind when you moved here. Or he lives a life that isn’t enough.

Rooster’s brows furrow slightly, he squeezes your hipbone and his features soften as he tries to make this playful.

“What? - You don’t want to marry me one day?” He teases, brushing a strand of hair back off of your face. He’s been thinking about this more and more.

All of the doubts he had with Amy make sense when he’s with you, because she was never the girl that he was supposed to spend his life with. You are, he’s sure of it.

Your lip trembles as you give a soft shake of your head.

Bradley’s smile falters just slightly, he brushes his fingertips across his cheek and shakes his head, “Come on, never?” His tone is soft, he’s still trying to keep things lighthearted.

You shake your head at him.

“Okay.” He says quietly, sitting up. He shrugs his shoulders, “Alright. So, we don’t get married.”

It’s not a big deal. Plenty of couples don’t get married. It’s probably outdated. Here and now, he doesn’t mind. Looking down at you as you’re pushed up onto your elbows and staring at him with such worry in your eyes, he would say anything to make you feel safe again.

But his mind will change.

You know him. You know that he would say anything to make this better. As much as you would like to listen, you know that his word means nothing. You need him to understand.

“I don’t think I’ll ever trust you enough to want to marry you.”

Bradley’s brows knit together.

All of the arguments, the screaming matches and hurtful words with Amy - never hit him quite as hard as that. He watches you for a few moments. It’s clear that you mean what you said.

He frowns slightly as you sit up and rest your hand over his.

“I love you.” He tells you. It’s sincere, his chest heaves as he speaks, he reaches out and cups your jaw with his hand, keeping your eyes on him. “I want to spend my life with you. I’m never gonna hurt you again.”

You don’t make an effort to pull away, even though looking him in the eye right now feels like holding your palm over an open flame.

“You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Amy once.” You say quietly.

Rooster shakes his head again, more urgently this time, “This is different. I’ve never been as sure about anything as I am about my feelings for you.”

You sigh softly and shift forwards, he opens his arms. You press your face into the crook of his neck, his arms squeeze tight around your middle. You breath him in and kiss the skin of his throat once softly.

Rooster’s palm presses to your back, firm and strong as is trails from the tip of your spine to the base.

“I love you so much,” He tells you gently. You close your eyes and rest your cheek against his shoulder, looking at the waves rolling onto the sand. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. It’s gonna be okay.”

You wish you believed him now as easily as you did before.

His heart beats steadily against yours, your fingers curl gently around the nape of his neck as you hold yourself close to him. You sit in silence for a few moments, letting yourself be held by him, just for a little longer.

Rooster frowns as you pull back to look at him finally. The look on your face says it all.

“I’m never going to give you the future that you want.” You say softly.

He shakes his head, his hands finding your hips, holding you like it’ll keep you there forever.

“Doesn’t matter,” He breathes out, “I’d take any future you would give me.”

You swallow, running your fingertips across his shoulders and down his arms. Your lip trembles slightly.

“I can’t do it,” You say quietly, willing your voice not to shake. A muscle in his jaw ticks. You shake your head again, “This isn’t - this isn’t fair.”

You look at him and anger bubbles inside of you. This is his fault in every sense of the word. It didn’t have to be like this.

He didn’t have to lie to her, to you - he didn’t have to trail his fingers along your spine, or kiss your temple, or hold you tight against him as he slept. He didn’t have to make you fall in love with him. He didn’t have to ruin everything.

But he did, and now you’re here, tearing your hearts out and leaving them in the sand. It’s not like they’ll be any use to either of you after this anyway.

“Please,” His hands squeeze around your hips, he raises his brows and wills you to give him another chance. “Please don’t.”

Watching the hurt in his eyes, you want to scream at him. To tell him that this is all his fault, to call him every name you can think of. Instead, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your body into his. He hugs you.

“It’s been a really confusing day,” Bradley murmurs, his hand resting against the base of your skull as he holds you against him, “Let’s talk about this another time, okay?”

You kiss his jaw tenderly, he turns his head and you kiss his lips.

He looks into your eyes when you pull back and knows that that was the last time. He glances down, letting out a heavy breath, cursing himself for being such an idiot. Rooster feels the weight of this settle down and take its place on his chest, he takes another heavy breath and swallows, knowing that it’s going to be there for a long time.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him quietly, blinking as you fight back tears.

Rooster looks up at you, eyes shining. He won’t let himself cry in front of you. He brushes your hair back tenderly off of your shoulders and gives a small nod.

“Me too.”

You push away from him and sit in the sand, pulling your knees up to your chest, turning your attention to the sea so that he doesn’t have to see you break down again today.

Rooster pushes himself to his feet and hesitates for a moment. He racks his brain, thinking of anything he could say to make this better. He opens his mouth, searching for the right word.

You wipe at your eyes, then turn your head away from him.

He closes his mouth then leans down and presses his lips delicately to the top of your head, “I love you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes stinging with tears. You force yourself not to turn around. He walks away. You watch the sun disappear behind the tide, your throat burning - you don’t cry.

Rooster has twenty-seven days left on the island.

Jake doesn’t know the specifics of how or why, but he does know that Rooster is gone twenty-four days earlier than he’s supposed to and that it’s something to do with you.

It’s not a coincidence when Jake runs into you a week later. He stops by the liquor store that Kit works at on purpose, you’re there like he wanted you to be.

Jake’s intention was to push his luck and ask, but when he sees you sitting on the counter with Kit wiping your tears and telling you that it’s going to be okay, he knows not to. He leaves without buying anything.

Amy’s stuff is gone from the apartment when Rooster gets back. It’s what he expected but it doesn’t feel like any less of a punch to the gut. He sits on the floor in the entryway and leans his head back against the wall.

This is his punishment, he knows that. He accepts it.

He knows that reaching out to you would just hurt you more. It doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. Even after two weeks, it’s the only thing that gets him to sleep at night. After three weeks, when he’s back at work, it’s the only thing that gets him through his work day.

Rooster’s certain in his belief he’s going to be holding onto what it felt like to be loved by you, perhaps for the rest of his life.

…

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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it’s my birthday today 🥰

anyone have any sexy rooster/hangman fic recommendation? ✨✨

#rooster #bradley bradshaw #hangman #jake seresin #it’s my birthday #hehe

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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for @flashandtheholograms who said this post was these idiots

incorrect quotes 5/?

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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Operation Apollo | 0.5 | Jake Seresin x Reader AU

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst + eventual smut , suggestive content and language but no sex, minors dni

…

“She said she’s not coming out while you’re here.” Allen explains, adjusting his tie as he steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind him. Jake keeps a straight face, then shrugs his shoulders. He wants to laugh. You’ve spent two weeks trying to get under his skin and he managed to get under yours in six minutes.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Jake asks.

“How about you two head downstairs, check out the hall, I’ll bring her in with me in a couple of minutes.”

“That isn’t what the briefing said-“

“I know that, but whatever you said to her this afternoon has her pissed off. This is the new plan.” Allen interrupts, his tone stern. It’s the first time he’s shown a sign of actually being a leader since Jake got here. Jake nods his head.

“Fine.”

He turns and abandons his post outside of her door. Manny trails along after him.

“What did you say to her to have her this mad?” Manny asks, glancing behind them to make sure you aren’t within earshot.

“Told her to stop flirting with me.” Jake answers calmly. It isn’t a lie, but Jake chooses to leave out the part where he had her pinned to her bed and begging for his cock.

Manny chuckles, pushing his hands into his pockets, “So she was still trying to get you fired, then?”

“Think so,” Jake agrees, adjusting the wire behind his ear as he leads the way into the event hall. It’s already teeming with security, which is good. It means that Jake’s job should be a little easier tonight. “I don’t know how you put up with her for this long. She’s driving me crazy.”

Manny hums amusedly, then shakes his head, taking in the tasteful decor around him, “Well, you aren’t exactly doing yourself any favours by being such a dick to her.”

Jake stops at the top of the stairs, turning to face his colleague seriously.

“We aren’t here to be her friends.” He reminds him.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe she could do with some real friends more than security?” Manny replies calmly, pushing one hand into his pocket as he heads down the stairs towards the event. There are a couple of low tier guests here already, a lot of people without their own details. The higher tier guests always arrive later on.

Jake follows this time.

“She has friends,” Jake answers. He doesn’t dare put his hands in his pockets because he remembers his training. “Did you forget the dozen or so kids she had over the first day I showed up?”

Manny scoffs.

“What?” Jake urges him to continue with what he was going to say. Manny grabs a non-alcoholic champagne and turns, taking a sip from the glass. He gives Jake a look. Like Jake’s so out of the loop, like there’s something that he just doesn’t get yet. Manny has been waiting for him to figure it out, but he figures that if he waits any longer then the two of you might actually kill each other.

“Those aren’t real friends.” Manny takes another long drink from the glass.

Jake stands at his side, considering what this statement means. He thinks about it for a while. He’s been at your side all day, every day for about three weeks now. He hasn’t heard you getting a lot of texts, no phone calls. He wonders if any of those friends have checked up on you since he got here.

He opens his mouth to question Manny further, then spots the head of security heading straight for them.

“Gomez - enjoying the refreshments?” Don calls out.

Manny’s eyes widen as he hides the glass behind his back like he hasn’t already been caught.

“Yes, sir. - No. No, Sir.” Manny answers.

Jake’s gaze lifts. He notices the security at the top of the stairs first. The president enters the room, arm in arm with his wife. You look most like your mother. She’s a beautiful woman, she looks elegant as she stops at the top of the stairs. He glances down at his watch, you’re supposed to be here before they are.

He shakes his head, lifting his sleeve, speaking into his cuff, “Update on Apollo, please.”

The President and the First Lady move down the stairs together and immediately get to greeting their guests.

“On our way, asshole.” Your voice comes through Jake and Manny’s earpieces after speaking into Allen’s cuff. Manny glances across at Jake. Jake sighs and leans his head back, staring at the twinkling lights covering the ceiling.

Jake waits patiently, checking periodically as the president makes his way around the room while Don scolds Manny at his side.

“Manny. It’s been a while.” Matthew interrupts Don’s lecture to reach out and shake Manny’s hand. Manny smiles at him, the two of them make small talk about their personal lives and how long it has been since they last crossed paths. Matthew then turns his attention towards the taller agent at Manny’s side. “And you must be the one causing all the trouble.”

It’s a playful comment, and the President smiles as he says it. He extends an open palm out towards Jake.

“I’m sure that’s what you’ve heard.” Jake agrees as he places his palm in Matthew’s and shakes his hand with a firm grip. Matthew chuckles.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Seresin,” Matthew smiles, Jake catches a glimpse of you in his features, but you still look most like your mother. “Allen has been telling Sara and I that you’ve been doing a great job taking care of our little girl.”

Jake thinks back to this afternoon. He did a great job of making her want to fuck him, then murder him in the space of a couple of minutes. Still, Jake smiles and nods his head.

“Just doing my job, sir.” Jake says calmly. He feels a little bit like a pilot again when he says it. Maybe it’s trying to hold back the smugness in his tone.

“Keep it up, kid. - It’s not an easy placement, I know. I want you to know that I appreciate you being so patient with her.” Matthew says.

Jake nods his head.

He probably could have done with this pep talk before the events of this afternoon, but he smiles and nods nonetheless.

Jake glances up, catching a glimpse of colour in his peripheral.

Your hand is resting in Allen’s, you’re at the top of the stairs, there’s an almost nervous smile on your face as you glance down at the steps. You’re worried about tripping in these shoes, but Allen’s got you and you’re secure in that knowledge.

Jake’s gaze starts off at your heels. A simple pair of classy heels, not too high, you walk confidently in them - you’re worried inside but Jake can’t tell. The dress ends around your calf, not floor length, not short. It’s elegant, mid-length and its colour lands somewhere between pearl and champagne. It compliments your skin tone, your figure.

The straps are dainty, the structure of your collarbones catches Jake’s attention. The supple curve of your shoulders, the way the satin sits on your skin. It doesn’t expose much, you’re still plenty covered up - it’s a charity event after all, but Jake’s in awe.

It’s a straight neckline, draping slightly in the centre. It’s flawless and almost posed, even when you’re moving. There’s a dainty gold necklace - a birthday present from a few years ago - dangling between your collarbones, the twinkling lights overhead make it glint with each step that you take. Jake’s eyes take a while to find your face.

You’re looking at him when he finally does.

It’s his turn to be searching for words. He watches you take your first step, your hand in Allen’s palm as he walks with you.

He doesn’t know where the doe-eyed deer in headlights from this afternoon went, but the beautiful girl in that incredible dress walking towards him now, she would never fall for such a thing. There’s a confidence to the way you hold your chin high, a grace to the way that you step down into the room. An effortlessness that gives away how much practice you’ve had at doing this kind of thing.

Your eyes are on Jake’s each step of the way. A softness in the green of his eyes. Maybe regret, even, for the way he treated you earlier.

You reach the bottom of the stairs and squeeze Allen’s hand gently. Jake’s lips part slightly, you’re staring right at him, headed straight for him. He closes his mouth and stands up a little straighter, swallowing. It makes him feel like he’s in middle school again, the way his heartbeat picks up with each step that brings you closer.

His eyes briefly flicker upward, to the twinkling lights overhead, then he looks over at the live band. Then, back to you. He holds his breath as you reach him, worried that a trembling inhale will give him away.

“Daddy.”

Jake’s brows furrow tightly together. Your eyes are on him when you say it. There’s a split-second where Jake worries he’s about to explode with embarrassment, then your attention turns.

“Princess!” Your father returns your greeting as he turns his body to face you. He opens his arms and hugs you tenderly. Jake lets out a breath, then brings a hand up to loosen his collar. It’s extremely warm in here all of a sudden.

Jake adjusts his earpiece and keeps his eyes on everyone else. Anyone but you. Your mother when you hug her, Allen as he’s greeted by both of your parents. Manny just so that he doesn’t have to pay attention to the way your eyes haven’t faltered from burning into his side.

It’s an observation that Jake cant help but make: there’s a formality and structure to the way that you greet your parents that isn’t all that different from how you have greeted everyone else earlier today. The media training takes precedent over familial ties. Your smiles and soft touches look good on camera. That’s what matters.

“I have someone for you to meet.” Your mother takes your hand and squeezes it, smiling widely like this is something for you to be excited about. It isn’t. This has happened at every event since you turned eighteen. She has been trying to find you a husband for a very long time. She was married at your age and she reminds you of that constantly.

“Oh, I-“ You look to your father for help, for an out. Jake catches the look. He looks over at Manny.

Manny quirks an eyebrow knowingly, Jake thinks back to their conversation about friends. He wonders how many of your friends were carefully picked out for you by your parents or their staff.

“You’ll love him. His mother is the…”

Jake’s eyes are firmly on your back as you’re led into the crowd. The dress isn’t entirely backless, but the top half of your spine is exposed to him as your mother leads you away. He cranes his neck to keep an eye on you in the crowd.

“Well, it was great catching up with you boys,” Matthew smiles politely, “If you’ll excuse me, I have a few more hands to shake.”

The three of them are left there, watching intently. They should split up for better viewpoints, but they remain for a moment.

Allen leans in close to Jake, his expression calm and friendly as he does. His tone is anything but.

“I don’t know what you did, but I swear to god, if you hurt her - I’ll end your career.” Allen says calmly. Jake keeps his head straight, his eyes on you. He nods his head in silent understanding. Honestly, he’s surprised that you didn’t tell Allen everything. Jake knows that he was out of line and could be fired for what he did. But he doesn’t regret doing it.

Jake keeps an eye on you. You’re introduced to a boy around about your age. He’s the son of one of Matthew’s friends from law school, he’ll be a lawyer himself soon. Tom. Average height, short, dark hair, skinny.

The two of you chat for a while, talk over some drinks, and then move towards the dance floor. Jake doesn’t know how long he watches, but he knows that he’s pulling a face. He just can’t help it. He doesn’t like the way this kid touches you.

“Hey, Jake, mind doing me a quick favour?” Matthew’s hand comes up to rest against Jake’s shoulder, squeezing platonically over the fabric of Jake’s tux. Jake turns his head and raises his eyebrows. Surprised by the gesture and Matthew’s presence simultaneously. He nods his head quickly, anything, he agrees.

“Break that mess up, for me, would you?” Matthew nods his head, gesturing to the centre of the dance floor. Jake follows his gaze, already knowing exactly what your father is talking about. The boy’s hand is a little low on your back, his fingertips are white at the tops, and leaving indents in your skin, he’s trying to hold you closer and closer to him.

You’re leaned back slightly to put some distance between your faces. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not comfortable.

“What should I tell her?” Jake asks. Matthew shakes his head and sips his scotch.

“No, no, I don’t want to ruin her fun completely. Just dance with her for a bit, until that little shit takes the hint.” Matthew decides.

“Oh. I don’t - I think she would be more comfortable if I asked Allen to do that, Sir.” Jake shakes his head slightly.

Matthew nods his head, tapping at the edge of his glass, his eyes on you.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one here who looks as pissed off about those two as I do,” Matthew smiles at Jake. “And even if she doesn’t like you, I’m sure she would much rather be seen with the guy every woman in here keeps looking at as opposed to someone old enough to be her father.”

“I don’t kno-“

“One dance. Don’t make me ask twice, son.” Matthew chuckles, like it’s a joke, then nudges Jake towards the dance floor. Jake swallows.

He straightens up and sighs as he makes his way over. You see him coming first, narrowing your eyes at him. He places his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jake asks, though it’s clearly not a question. If Tom wasn’t so repulsive, you would have objected yourself. Jake waits until Tom’s gone before he takes your hand in his and wraps one arm around your waist softly.

You look past Jake and find your father smiling. He nods in head in acknowledgement, thinking that he just saved you from that creep, and then turns away. You scowl at Jake.

“I’m not thrilled about this either,” Jake announces, before you can say anything. He leads your body with the arm around your waist, swaying to the music. He looks you in the eye, his face softens. “You look… nice.”

“Nice.” You muse over the compliment.

Jake’s lips quirk slightly, “What was I supposed to say?”

“No, nice is fine. Maybe worth it might have been more appropriate, but I’ll let it go.” You answer him. Jake smirks. His hand rests safely on the middle of your back, thumb stroking tenderly over the exposed skin for a moment. You hold his shoulder, letting him bring you closer. He leans in so that he can talk quietly.

“Well, if you’re still wearing those cute blue panties then I might reconsider.” He isn’t serious, his tone tells you clearly that he’s making fun of you. You pull back and look up at him, tilting your head.

“Actually, I’m not wearing any.” You tell him. You watch his nose scrunch just slightly. He shakes his head.

“There’s no way you’d show up here with no underwear on.” Jake answers.

“Shame that you won’t get to find out.” You give a soft shrug of your shoulders. Jake smiles at you. He hums in agreement.

Sara sets her glass down and leans into her husband’s side, brows furrowed slightly as she leans into her husband’s side, “Matthew, why is she dancing with the staff?”

Matthew chuckles, “Because the staff are the only guys here that I can trust not to try something with her.”

Sara frowns, watching the way he looks at you with a soft smile toying on his lips, the way your hand rests on his shoulder. She’s too far away to hear you quietly threatening each other. The two of you look good together. The way you move together is swift, dynamic, it makes sense.

“How can you be so sure that they won’t? - I mean, look at him, I wouldn’t blame her if she had a little crush on him.”

Matthew frowns at his wife’s opinion of the agent. Still, he finishes his scotch and kisses her temple, “Because if any of the staff are stupid enough to try that, then I get to personally set them straight, sweetheart. That’s why they behave.”

“If you want, I can go get that little slimeball to come back here and finish the dance.” Jake says it tenderly so that no one around you will catch on to the nature of your conversation. You narrow your eyes at him.

“What happened to you to make you such an asshole?” You ask.

Jake shrugs his shoulders, “I’d ask what happened to make you such an entitled bitch, but - I think I have an idea.”

He gestures around him. At all this.

You step forwards, pressing your heel purposely into his shoe. Jake narrows his eyes at you.

“I’m not an entitled bitch. I’m mean to you because you’re a miserable dickhead.” You tell him.

“Smile!”

You turn your head and Jake tucks you in against his side. You both smile politely for the camera. The photographer moves on and Jake turns to face you again. He wraps an arm around your waist, then pulls you flush against his body. You open your mouth to protest, caught off guard as he dips you back slightly, his hand finding the back of your thigh to guide it along his.

Jake’s got you, secure in his arms, his eyes on yours. He’s only a couple of inches from your face, and the lights overhead bring out the shimmer on your eyelids. Jake’s been through years of training. He considers himself to be a disciplined person. Yet, there’s a split second where he does consider just doing it. It would be so easy for him to lean forwards and press his lips to yours.

He stands you upright and takes your hand in his.

It’s clear that the two of you could do this all night. The last thing Jake wants is for you to run out of the event, screaming about how much you hate him. In fact, he’s quite enjoying having you exactly where you are. He leads the dance, swaying you against him. You narrow your eyes as Jake’s features soften.

“I’m sorry.” Jake says softly.

Your brows furrow for a moment, then raise in surprise. The music is loud, you aren’t sure if you heard that right.

“I’ve been being a little hard on you, and what I did this afternoon was out of line. I’m sorry.” Jake’s fingertips trail over your exposed spine tenderly.

You shake your head softly.

“I could have you fired for what you did today.” You tell him.

Jake nods, his lips quirking up into a soft smirk, “Sure. If you wanted to tell your dad about how you needed it so bad.”

You stop moving and scowl at him, Jake pulls you back in against him and continues to guide your bodies to the music.

“That’s what I thought. I said I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I think we just need to respect each other a little more.” Jake murmurs.

You let out a heavy breath. It won’t happen again. You’ve been thinking about Jake’s deep voice, strong muscles and the things that he said to you all afternoon. Sure, you’re upset with him for what he did - but you’re more upset at the idea that he won’t do it again.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t-“

“Stop talking,” Jake sighs. He looks back at you and smiles, “I love this song.”

Your scrunch your nose at him, not recognising the melody. He guides your body to each note, letting out a contented breath. You frown slightly, surprised by this behaviour.

“Wow. So, you don’t hate everything.” You comment teasingly.

Jake chuckles. He lifts your arm and turns you, spinning you away from him and guiding you around until your back is to his chest. He sways the two of you to the music, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

“Just you, sweetheart.” Jake jokes.

You drive your elbow backwards into his abdomen, feeling him flinch. He laughs at the action, then spins you back around and turns you to face him. He’s a good dancer. You wonder if he has ever been married, you know that some men take dance lessons before their weddings.

“I need a drink.” You tell him.

Jake squeezes your hip playfully, “Stay until the end of the song. For me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, then lean closer. Jake realises what you’re trying to do and leans down slightly, turning his head so that you can whisper to him. Your hand slides around to cup the nape of his neck, holding him close.

Jake closes his eyes as your lips graze his earlobe.

“You’re not worth it.”

His lips quirk up into a smirk as you pull back and slip out of his grasp. You step around him and head for the refreshments. Jake watches, you glance back over your shoulder once and smirk to yourself as you grab a glass of champagne. He’s seen you wandering around the house in a bikini a couple of times now. He hasn’t ever given you a second look.

But, the low back on the dress and the soft smirk on your lips as you turn away from him, sipping the champagne - that has his full attention.

Jake stands idle on the dance floor for a few seconds, watching you walk away from him.

Somehow, Jake has always dated women that have had an attitude. Even his first girlfriend in middle school had had plenty to say. His girlfriend in freshman year never let him have the last word. Even Dani, she spent more time making fun of him than she did making out with him.

He stands there under the lights, his eyes unashamedly on your ass, and realises that he has a type.

Jake moves from the centre of the dance floor and picks a point where he can see you, but not where the two of you will run into each other. Manny’s closest to you, Allen’s standing by the exit.

Jake glances around the room. It isn’t dissimilar to all of the Navy balls he has been to. Only, at those, it wasn’t so bad that his date was mean to him, because he spent the entire night secure in the knowledge that he was going to take her home. Dani wasn’t ever officially his date. She wasn’t ever officially his girlfriend. Or his anything - except for his wingman.

It was an unspoken rule that they would be each other’s dates to every event, without anyone ever questioning what they were.

Jake does his best to not think about Dani these days.

She would love the way you push Jake’s buttons. Jake bites his cheek, he imagines that Dani would be in fits of laughter at how pissed off Jake has been these last few weeks. She always thought he was cute when he was mad, which usually just made him more mad. Jake glances over at you periodically.

You have a fresh glass in your hand each time, but it isn’t his job to stop you from drinking. Allen or Manny can hold up that end of the bargain. Jake stands by the steps and watches an hour pass. There are plenty of people who want your attention, you’re polite and friendly with each one.

It grows boring to watch quickly. Jake moves to count the lights on the ceiling instead. 111… 112… 113.

“Um, does anyone have eyes on Apollo?”

Jake frowns, brows furrowing. He took his eyes off of her for a couple of minutes. He presses his earpiece closer to his ear and raises his cuff, “Manny, she was right next to you. What happened?”

“Someone got in my way and she was just gone! - Can either of you see her?”

“Fuck.” Jake mutters, he cranes his neck to look around the crowd.

“Alright, she’s not in here. Jake, you take the north wing, check her room. I’ll take East, Manny you take west.”

Jake takes off without need for further instruction. It’s part of the job to not take off running. Not cause a scene. Not let your father know that he lost you already. His heart thuds a beat harder with each room he checks that you aren’t in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jake mutters under his breath. He checks his watch. He has been searching for eight minutes now, he doesn’t know how long you were missing before that. There’s a maximum window of twelve minutes. A lot can happen in twelve minutes.

He hears giggling and comes to an abrupt stop. Jake grabs the door handle and slams his shoulder into the wood, swinging it open.

It’s Tom. That’s the first thing he notices. The second thing Jake notices is Tom’s slacks around his ankles, and the surprising lack of hair on his legs. Finally, Jake’s eyes land on the bare ass, belonging to the girl bent over an admin desk.

“What the fuck, man?” Tom pants, eyes blown wide. He struggles to grab for his underwear, making no effort to hide the girl. Jake has already averted his gaze. The girl rushes up and drops her dress, Jake frowns. It’s not you.

“Jake! Have you- oh my god.” There’s a hand on Jake’s shoulder. His head whips around, lips parting to find you looking equally shocked at his side.

This is bad. Jake’s hands find your hips and he’s shoving you out of the small office. The last thing he needs is for someone to come across the four of you. Tomorrow morning your picture in the papers with a headline about an orgy. He swings the door to the office shut behind him, his other hand still pushing you back into the hall.

You stumble, your back hitting a portrait so hard that it almost falls off of the wall.

Jake’s brows furrow, he steadies you with one hand and the portrait with the other.

“Where the fuck have you been? - You can’t just take off and not tell anyone!” Jake demands, his tone stern and scathing. He glances down and notices the open bottle of gin in your hand, then looks back up to your face. “Are you drunk?”

“I needed to pee!” You defend yourself, pushing off of the wall and standing upright. “I walked by Daddy’s office on the way back and found this.”

Jake sighs in frustration, lifting his wrist, “Found her, Apollo secure. Moving to home ground.”

“Apollo, homeground…” You shake your head disapprovingly as you lean back against the wall, looking at him through heavy lashes. “Can’t you just say my name? - And that we’re going to my room?”

Jake shakes his head as he waits for confirmation that his team just heard what he said.

“Did you see his dick?” You giggle. Jake shoots you a look. He did see Tom’s did, unfortunately. “That thing was weird looking.”

“Heard. Moving to position A, standing by.” Allen confirms.

“Heard, I’ll go to B.” Manny agrees.

Jake catches movement in his peripheral and turns his head. His lips part as you take a gulp straight from the bottle.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He grabs the bottom of the bottle and tears it away from your mouth. You frown and grab the neck of the bottle tight. Jake narrows his eyes at you, “Let go.”

Your lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Make me.”

Jake shakes his head, “I’m not playing with you, drop the bottle.”

“Make me.” You answer again.

Jake tugs hard at the bottle, making your hands slip from its neck. You frown as he sets it on the hallway table behind him and grabs your hand in his. He begins to try to drag you along the hall.

“How is Tom getting laid and I’m not?” You complain, trailing sadly behind Jake, dragging your heels.

“Stop.” Jake checks around and shushes you.

You dig your heels into the carpet and stop walking, folding your arms over you.

“Move.” Jake gestures his head. You stare at him defiantly. It’s been a long day, he has been up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He doesn’t have the patience left to put up with this.

“Make-“

Jake leans forwards and grabs the back of your thighs. He lifts, tossing you over his shoulder and grabbing your legs to steady you. You yelp, pressing your palms to his back. You bite your cheek to keep from grinning as he carries you through the hall.

He opens the door to your room, then swings it shut behind you. He flicks on the light and sets you on your feet. You wobble slightly from the head rush, Jake grabs your waist and steadies you. You lean into him, lifting your chin, your eyes locked on his.

“Don’t.” He tells you again, his voice soft. You slip out of his arms and turn to face him.

He watches as you stand before him, at the bottom edge of your bed, then pull at the tie fastening the back of your dress. You stare at Jake, waiting for him to leave. His eyes fall down to the tie in your hands, then he glances back up to your face. He takes a step further in and away from the door.

Jake stands up straight and loosens his tie slightly.

You let out a soft breath, sliding the strap off of your shoulder. Jake watches silently. Your heart thuds in your chest, liquid courage in your veins. Jake’s eyes follow the second strap as it slides down to your elbow. His gaze flickers back up to meet yours.

You wait for him to stop you, or to head for the door. He stays where he is.

The straps fall past your elbows as you straighten your arms. Jake watches as the champagne coloured fabric slips, exposing your chest to him. His eyes linger on your breasts for a moment, before he looks back up at you.

He raises his eyebrows slightly.

You swallow, pushing the fabric past your hips. Jake’s eyes widen for a split second. Your lips quirk at his reaction.

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat, eyes raking over your body. He clears his throat, then meets your gaze once more.

“I did tell you.” You say gently, heat rising to your cheeks as you cross your ankles, standing before him in nothing but a pair of heels. Jake almost smiles. He stops himself. You did warn him. He just didn’t think you were brave enough to actually go commando in a room full of some of the biggest names in politics.

Jake reaches out, skimming your side softly with his fingertips. A soft trail from your hip to the edge of your ribs, your skin soft under his fingertips. He’s distracted, looking down at your body, watching the course his fingertips take. He looks back up, finding you to be staring at him. There’s a nervousness to the way that you look at him.

“Did you mean what you said? - A-Am… Am I-“ You’re just tipsy, it’s just that he treats you like such a burden. You just need to know that he didn’t mean what he said.

Jake knows what you’re asking. He feels guilty for this afternoon. He bites his cheek.

He glances down between your body and his, sliding his fingers between yours, squeezing your hand softly.

Jake’s eyes find yours, searching over your features for a moment. He lets out a soft breath and guides your hand forwards, pressing it over his crotch. Your lips part, you look down at your hand over the fabric. His cock is hard and straining against the black fabric. You press your palm against his length and lean into him.

Jake brushes your hair tenderly off of your shoulders.

“You’d better get ready for bed.” He tells you gently. You look up at him, unsure whether he means for you to put pyjamas on or bend over. Jake clarifies for you by turning and picking up your neatly folded pyjamas from the chair in the corner of the room.

“Wha- Jake.” You frown at him.

“Do me a favour and don’t argue with me for once.” Jake tells you, unfolding the pyjama top. He takes your arms and pulls the shirt over your shoulders first, then pushes the matching shorts into your hands. You frown up at him as you step into them. “We can’t.”

You whine softly, watching as Jake’s capable hands button the sleep shirt.

“You don’t want to?” Your fingers skim over the fabric of his suit jacket as you look up at him. Jake fixes the collar on the sleep shirt and shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter if I want to.” Jake tells you. Fuck, he wants to.

You sit on the edge of your bed and lean back on your palms. It makes sense that he doesn’t want to. You’re in your childhood bedroom, the entire house is teeming with security at all times, and Jake’s career is on the line. You nod your head.

“Good girl,” Jake tells you. You stare up at him. He has to get out of this fucking room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He leaves, closing the door behind him. You lay back against the white sheets and close your eyes. A breath slips your lips. You already know that you’re going to regret all of that in the morning, but right now, breathing softly as you rest for a moment, you don’t.

…

Tag List:

@alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @the-mouse27 @hawsx3 @someinsanefangirl @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter

#me rn #i’m dying #this is so good

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

Text

Operation Apollo | 0.4 | Jake Seresin x Reader AU

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst + eventual smut , suggestive content and language but no sex, minors dni

…

“No way,” You comment, sitting forwards in your seat slightly to squint at the agent sitting in front of you. “You’re afraid of flying.”

Jake pries his hands off of his armrests and unclenches them. He blinks at you dully. It’s five in the morning and your flight just took off. It’s a private jet on route to D.C.

You’re sitting right in front of him, Allen and Manny are sitting more towards the back. Jake had been hoping you would sit with them so that he could pass out, but then you had waltzed over and stuck yourself down right in front of him.

“I am not afraid of flying,” He tells you calmly, a hint of defensiveness to his tone as he talks. “But it’s hard to relax when you know you’re a better pilot than they guy doing the job.”

You tilt your head.

“So you were a pilot in the Navy,” You realise, “Was starting to wonder when you would tell me what you used to do.”

Jake nods his head and shifts in his seat. He glances around, checking towards the cockpit uncomfortably. You observe each of his movements. Jake has a fear of flying. He’s a pilot with a fear of flying.

“Did you go to Top Gun?” You ask him.

Jake fiddles with his hands, nodding his head softly, “Twice.”

“Twice?” You question.

“Can we talk about something else?” Jake breathes.

You raise an eyebrow at him. Jake knows he has just given you more information than is good for him. He leans his head back against the seat and sighs, then checks his watch. You’re still ascending. Four more hours of this shit.

“Anything I can do to take your mind off of your fear of flying?” You offer, lips quirking suggestively as you tilt your head at him. Jake’s growing tired of you teasing him. You push your foot out and nudge your ankle against his. Jake narrows his eyes seriously at you.

“I don’t have a fear of flying.” He bites back.

“So you’re sweating like that because you love flying so much?” You answer back immediately.

Jake doesn’t move. He can feel beads of sweat forming on his brow, and he knows that you can see them, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of seeing him wipe them away. A muscle in his jaw ticks.

“I’m happy to take your mind off of it,” You tell him sweetly. Jake glances down, watching as you rub your ankle against his. He looks back up to your face, completely serious. “I’ve got a couple of ideas of how I’d do it, too.”

Jake shakes his head and turns to look out of the window. Four more hours.

You sit back in the seat, trailing your foot just slightly up his calf.

“Stop.” Jake demands.

You cross your legs and rest your fist against your chin, squinting at him across the small distance between you.

“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” You frown. “Were you ever fun?”

“No.” Jake answers dully.

You roll your eyes at him and pull your bag closer to you. Jake glances across as you pull a book from it. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You read about the French Revolution on your summer break for fun?” Jake scoffs. “Now who’s dull.”

You lift your gaze and look at him over the top of the book, “It’s a commentary on modern foreign policy in relation to the French Revolution, and it isn’t for fun. It’s for my postgrad.”

Jake hums. There’s a few moments of quiet between the two of you.

“Foreign policy,” He comments finally. “Politics.”

“Aren’t you clever.” You bite, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“Gonna be president someday?” Jake asks you, raising an eyebrow. He watches the immediate distaste in your reaction. You shrug your shoulders and keep your attention on the book.

The two of you spend the next four hours very carefully ignoring each other. Taking care not to make eye contact or strike up conversation.

Jake hasn’t been through this before. His last client was a little less high profile. Landing and getting you to the White House is a carefully orchestrated event. Allen takes the lead — he has done this a million times — Jake and Manny follow his lead.

It’s remarkable how well behaved you are.

The entire time. From landing, getting in the car, arriving, going to your room. Then, you’re called downstairs for the conference. You step out into the hallway, in your pretty dress, picked out for you by your father’s assistant.

Jake, Manny and Allen are waiting for you. Jake’s adjusting his cuff links. You look him up and down while he’s distracted. He looks good in a suit. You look down to smooth out your dress. You look good when you aren’t running your mouth.

“Ready, angel?” Allen smiles as he nudges you with his elbow. Jake almost rolls his eyes. Angel isn’t exactly the word he would pick to describe you.

“Yes, Sir.” You grin and lean into his side. Allen squeezes your shoulder softly and the two of you walk off ahead.

Jake wonders how long it took for the two of you to become this close. If you ever bothered Allen like you bother him. He walks silently at Manny’s side and observes the way that you trust Allen. Implicitly. He clearly trusts you just as much.

Jake knows better.

It’s a big day. Your father is extremely busy. In fact, Jake doesn’t see him once. The conference is full of people. It’s easy to tell who is important by looking around and seeing who has someone in a black suit watching their every move.

You surprise him. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the graceful young woman, smiling and shaking hands, striking up intelligent confirmation with individuals who would have intimidated Jake beyond reproach when he was your age.

Jake has never responded well to intimidation. He always responds with anger or bravado. You don’t seem to falter in the slightest. The conference lasts a couple of hours — it’s lots of schmoozing and snobbery, but you’re charming and witty throughout.

Jake is impressed by this side of you. A couple of years ago, he knows he would’ve been enamoured by you. If the two of you had met in a bar, he would’ve pursued you for however long it took. But that was then, and this is now.

He knows better.

Your schedule is packed. Immediately after the conference, you’re called to the head of security’s office. Allen is welcomed warmly with grins and hugs — he’s a familiar face around here. Jake and Manny are greeted with friendly faces, but not the same warmth. They’re new, it’s expected.

You take a seat opposite the desk, Allen sits at your side. Jake leans against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. Manny stands by the door with his hands neatly in front of him.

“We’re moving her threat level down to green.”

There are two exceptionally different reactions to that information. Your eyebrows raise, lips parting slightly, you sit up a little straighter - feeling like there is a physical weight off of your shoulders.

Jake is significantly less pleased with the information. So much so that he doesn’t take time to look at either Manny or Allen’s reactions. He doesn’t care what they think, this is wrong and he knows it.

“So you found the original threat?” Jake checks. All eyes are on him the moment he asks. He has his answer before anyone speaks.

“The threat is far less great than we originally thought.” The head of security answers Jake calmly, with a coldness to his tone that lets Jake know he’s in trouble for even asking.

Jake shuts his mouth. Far less great than they originally thought. He glances across at you, the soft smile on your face. He knows that you aren’t supposed to know. He knows that you’re going to think this is a free pass to be as reckless as you’d like. He knows it isn’t safe.

You are all dismissed together. The moment you’re out in the hallway, Jake storms off ahead. You begin after him, hurrying to catch up.

Manny starts to follow, Allen touches his forearm and shakes his head, “Leave them. I’m going to start pulling my hair out if I have to listen to them keep bickering.”

It would be easier if he just told you why he’s here. Maybe then you would comply, make his job a little easier. He’s under direct orders to make sure that you don’t find out.

As you reach your room, Jake turns to keep walking. He could do with some air.

“Jake.”

He turns to look at you, serious and stone-faced. You stop walking quickly, deciding that the distance between the two of you currently is probably a good thing. You lift your hands up in defence, trying to keep this lighthearted without setting him off.

“Hey,” You say gently. Growing up in rural Texas, Jake doesn’t appreciate the way that you’re beginning towards him like he’s a startled horse. “Look, I know you’re pissed off about this, but can we just talk about what this means?”

He has to admit that he’s surprised to hear the words leave your mouth. He wasn’t expecting such a diplomatic approach from you.

“I think this will be a lot less painful for us both if we set some ground rules.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. He’s still half-considering starting an argument.

“Come in. We can talk.” You rest your hand on the door handle, then gesture for him to follow you. Jake hasn’t forgotten how much of a tease you’ve been for the past week. He glances up, looking directly into the security camera on the ceiling, and then back at you.

It seems like a bad idea to follow you into your room, but Jake does it anyway.

He watches you move to sit in the centre of your bed. It’s probably the girliest room he has ever been in. Everything is white and peach. You can see the judgement on his face as he looks around.

“I didn’t pick it.” You explain quickly.

He takes a seat in the white arm chair in the corner of the room, parting his knees and sitting back.

“It looks like a six year old picked it.” Jake answers you dryly.

“If you keep being mean to me then I’ll drag you to every club in D.C. this weekend.” You answer back, tucking your knees up to your chest and staring over at him sternly. You’re serious about this. Jake is a real grouch and you aren’t looking forwards to him making your life harder than it needs to be for the next year.

Jake shuts his mouth, letting out a soft sigh. He folds his arms over his chest.

“Okay. My first rule is that I can have my friends over again and you can’t say anything about it.” You announce.

Jake knows that starting a fight this early into the conversation wouldn’t be smart. He presses his lips together and nods his head.

“Fine. But they sign in at the front gate. That’s my rule.”

You give a slow nod of your head.

“Okay. I want to start going out again. Normal security rules, me doing what I want, you guys behind - no interference unless necessary,” Jake opens his mouth to start arguing. You raise a finger to stop him. “I’ll give you plenty of advance notice. You can call ahead, do whatever you want to make yourself feel better about it. But I’m twenty-two - I refuse to live like a recluse.”

Jake closes his mouth, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Fine. But if I tell you that somewhere isn’t safe: that’s it. My word goes.” He answers you.

You narrow your eyes at him. That seems like a rule that’s too easy to abuse.

“We should have a safe word.” You decide.

Jake’s brows furrow slightly, “Excuse me?”

“Not a safe word. More of a code word. Like code red, absolute emergency that voids every other rule because I’m in danger. Deal?” You explain.

That doesn’t sound like the worst idea you’ve had. Jake hums, folding his arms over his chest.

“Okay. What word?” He agrees.

“I don’t know.” You shrug your shoulders. Jake glares at you for a moment, then cranes his neck back to stare at the ceiling. He considers it for a moment, then lets out a breath and turns his head back to you. It makes sense that a song Bradley Bradshaw used to sing is the only thing in his head right now.

An annoying, bouncy tune that makes Jake turn the radio off every time he hears it. He begrudgingly picks his answer.

“Renegade.”

“Why renegade?”

Jake shrugs those stupid, broad shoulders of his, “It’s a song. Doesn’t come up in conversation much. It works.”

“Okay. Renegade. Deal.”

“Another rule: you have to stop flirting with me.” Jake leans forwards to let you know that he’s serious. His face his stern, brow furrowed, lips together. His shoulders look even broader than usual when he’s sitting like this in that fitted black t-shirt. He’s impossibly handsome.

You lean back on your palms. You know that he means it, but something in you tells you to push harder to irritate him. Just once more.

“Maybe we should fuck right now, then - so I can get it out of my system.”

Jake stares at you. That smug look on your face as you lean back against your crisp, white sheets. Your neatly styled hair, pretty dress still on from this afternoon’s conference. He parts his knees a little further, his face serious.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Jake says calmly. He watches your lips part in surprise, then pushes himself up from the chair. He seems taller when he stands this time. Stronger as he reaches the end of the bed, leans forward and curls his fingertips around your ankle.

You falter. A split second where the confidence is gone, you’re a deer in headlights, blinking up at him.

Then, you’re composed again - trained. A real politician. Confident. Jake watches as you open your mouth, ready to talk back - to challenge him again. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything.

Jake tugs hard at your ankle. You fall back on your palms, grabbing at the sheets for leverage as Jake’s fingers find your other ankle. He drags you to the edge of the bed and parts your legs for him to stand between. You stare up at him.

Your dress rides up slightly, caught at the midway point of your thighs, giving Jake just a slight glimpse of the pale blue fabric between your legs. He pulls you closer and presses his crotch against your clothed core, making you gasp softly.

He grinds himself against you just slightly, making your eyes widen.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jake’s hands skim along your thighs, stopping periodically to squeeze at the soft flesh, until his hands are under your dress and holding your hips. “Don’t go all shy on me now.”

You close your mouth, suddenly very aware of the way it was just hanging open. Jake’s strong hands squeeze at your hips.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” His voice is low and serious, those sharp green eyes are locked on yours and he’s waiting for an answer. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

You stare at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jake rocks his hips forwards, grinding himself against the thin fabric separating your core from the rough fabric of his jeans. “Wanna hear it. You’ve always got so much to say, I know you’ve thought about this. Let me hear how bad you want my cock.”

You swallow, your chest rising and falling as you try not to gasp for air under him.

Jake has to stop looking at your face. That flushed look, lips parted as you stumble for words, so caught up in him that you can’t find anything to say. His cock twitches in his jeans.

Jake cups your jaw in his hand, curling his fingers around it as he turns your head. His body presses to yours. Firm muscles under the fabric of his t-shirt.

You’re scared for him to touch you — you know you’ll never live down how wet you are already. Your eyes close, head leaning back against the bedsheets as you let him turn your head, exposing your neck to him.

Jake’s lips graze your earlobe. You can feel that he’s smirking. “Say something, princess. Not doing anything until you do, better make it pretty convincing.”

You whine, swallowing as you rack your brain for the right words.

“Please.” It’s pathetic, and you’re furious at yourself the moment it slips your lips. His lips graze your neck but he doesn’t kiss your skin, you can feel that he’s still smirking. You push yourself against him. “Jake. Please fuck me.”

Jake hums sympathetically. He nods his head, brushing your jaw with his nose. “Aw, honey. You need it that bad?”

“So bad.” You breathe out, eyes screwed shut as you reach up and curl your fingers around his bicep.

His hand slides up into your hair, cradling the base of your skull as he rocks his hips forwards against your core, nosing softly at your cheek, “Tryin’ to get me in trouble? — hm? — Don’t think your dad would be offering me a promotion if he could see me now.”

“Won’t tell.” You choke out quickly, squeezing your fingers around his thick bicep. “I won’t say anything. Please.”

Jake pulls back just slightly, hooking his index finger around your jaw, turning your face until you’re looking at him. His lips quirk up as he caresses your cheek tenderly.

He leans in close. You think he’s finally going to kiss you, your heart’s beating so fast that he must be able to feel it. Jake swipes his thumb softly over your bottom lip, admires that pretty face.

“You’re not worth it.” Jake whispers.

His eyes train in on yours. There’s a tenderness to his expression, as if he didn’t just humiliate you. Your brows furrow. His hand squeezes softly around your hip. “My rule stands. I’ll see you tonight.”

He stands up, turns and heads for the door. Your jaw hangs open.

“Fucking asshole!” You shout after him. Jake closes the door to your room behind him and heads for his room.

He walks calmly, fixing his tie as he walks. His intention was just to teach you a lesson, but he can’t pretend that the semi he’s sporting currently doesn’t throw him off a little.

Still, it did what it was supposed to do. After embarrassing you like that, he figures you’ll be too ashamed to keep flirting with him.

And after the way you just begged him to fuck you, certainly too ashamed to tell your father about what just happened.

Jake closes his door and checks his watch. Two hours until the beginning of the charity gala, where he’ll meet your parents for the first time. Jake knows that you’re going to be furious at him all evening.

An added bonus: if you hate him, you’ll hopefully avoid him and he’ll be able to do his job without distraction.

…

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#oh my #oh yes #jake x apollo #i’m dying

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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I mean, I think this is accurate 🤷🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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Ceasefire | 0.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, angst

…

“I said: I think Mom is seeing somebody.” Dylan explains, playing with his phone in the passenger seat of Beau’s car. It’s late, Beau has just picked Taylor up from gymnastics and he’s driving the two of them to your place. Taylor’s knocked out in her booster seat, her forehead resting against the car window as she snuggles her stuffed rabbit.

Beau looks across at his son, who’s starting to look more and more like him every day, and scrunches his brows. The car passes under the illumination of a street light and catches a glimpse of you in your son’s eyes. He turns his head back to the road.

He always thought that if the two of you were ever to get divorced, you would both do the right thing and leave the kids out of it. But here he is, talking through the ruins of his marriage with his pre-teen.

“What makes you think that?” Beau asks calmly, shifting in his seat. Dylan shrugs as he sips at the milkshake he isn’t supposed to be having an hour before his bedtime.

“Heard her talking about it with Grandma.”

Beau hums softly. He should leave it at that. It would be wrong to drag Dylan into this, he’s already caught in the middle enough. Beau taps his fingers softly on the steering wheel and thinks of his wife. You’re working constantly - even tonight, that’s why he’s on pick up duty - where would you have even met someone?

“What did she say?” Beau asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“That there’s some guy that wants to take her on a date,” Dylan explains. He enjoys having his dad’s full attention. He rarely gets it these days. Both of his parents are weird at the moment; his dad is always angry and his mom is happier than she has seemed in years. “And there was a truck in the driveway when grandma drove us home last Sunday - but I didn’t see anyone.”

“There was a-“ Beau’s voice is raised. He catches himself and stops, checking that he hadn’t woken up Taylor.

He sighs softly.

“It wasn’t one of your mom’s friends?” Beau tries his best to sound calm.

“Could’ve been. I didn’t see anyone.”

Beau drives silently the rest of the way to the house. Dylan sits in silent regret. He’s too young to have any experience with relationships beyond the crush on the girl in his second period, but he knows that he just caused a big problem. For maybe two minutes of undivided attention.

He stands awkwardly, biting his cheek as Beau knocks at your front door.

“Hey! How was practice?” You smile as you open the door to them. Beau’s carrying Taylor, she’s asleep in his arms, her head lulling back in a way that cannot possibly be comfortable. You only got in from work a couple of minutes ago, you’re exhausted but you’re happy to see them.

Today ran over. One of the recruits is in trouble for borderline subordination so you were held back late with paperwork.

Beau shifts his daughter in his arms and looks down to Dylan.

“Take her up to bed, alright? - Your mom and I need to talk.” Beau says coldly. Your brows furrow as Dylan takes his little sister, struggling to carry her in his arms. Your mouth opens to protest as Beau moves to step past you.

“Woah, woah - Dyl, baby - I can take her.” You hold a hand out to keep Beau where he is as you move to help your son.

“I’ve got her. You should talk.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You weren’t expecting for your eleven year old to be giving you relationship advice tonight.

“What’s going on?” You frown at your soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Go to bed, Dylan.” Beau isn’t willing to have this conversation whilst his son is in ear-shot. Your brows furrow at him, you step into his way to stop him from coming inside.

The only thing stopping you from arguing with him is the fact that the kids are still there. The two of you wait for the sound of Dylan reaching the top of the stairs. Beau’s shoulder hits yours as he steps into the house past you.

“What is your problem?” You challenge him.

“You had a man here with the kids here?” Beau hisses, rounding on you, eyes dark as he steps into your space. You step back instinctively as you swing the front door shut behind you.

“What?”

“Dylan told me there was a car in the driveway on Sunday!” Beau snaps.

You stare at him, knowing that you aren’t going to be able to lie. You shoot a quick glance towards the stairs.

“He left the moment the kids got home, they never saw him - you were supposed to have them until four.” You answer as calmly as you can. Your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest. This is the last thing you need after the day you’ve had.

Beau’s face falls. He presses his lips together calmly.

“Who is he?” He demands.

“No one.” You answer him. His eyes narrow on you.

“How long?”

“A couple of weeks. It’s nothing.” You tell him.

“Is that a fucking joke?” Beau steps closer, standing over you. Your eyes widen, furious that after fifteen years of marriage, he thinks he’s capable of intimidating you. He holds up his hand, your eyes land on the ring still on his finger. “Do I need to remind you that we’re still married?”

It’s almost laughable. You thought he was a grumpy asshole before you married him, he’s just gotten worse since you told him you were leaving.

“Only because of the assets! If you pulled your head out of your ass and agreed to the settlement then we would be divorced by now!” You answer back, standing firm in front of him. He has never scared you before and he isn’t going to now.

“It’s still adultery, Hyde.” He speaks softly, more calm. He only ever calls you Hyde at work. Always by your name at home. You’re standing in front of him with plenty of space, but he knows that he just backed you into a corner.

“You and I both know that this is over,” You breathe. Your face softens as you look at him. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting - empathy, perhaps? “We should be moving on. Both of us, Beau.”

“I don’t want to move on. I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and I meant it.” There’s a coldness to his tone. You shake your head softly and step around him. You can’t keep having this conversation.

It’s been eight weeks since you left him. Two months.

“We deserve to be happy.” You answer him, turning to tidy the toys from the couch just so that you don’t have to look at him. You can feel him watching your every move.

“You don’t get to be happy with someone else while you’re still married to me. You owe me that.” Beau hisses. Your jaw drops. You turn towards him, eyes widening. You’re filled with the urge to shove him. Beau notices the way your hands clench at your sides.

“I don’t owe you anything! We’re over.” You remind him coldly.

“Are we over in the eyes of the Navy?”

You stare at him, brows furrowed slightly. You know exactly what he means. With you both still being legally married, you’re married in the eyes of the Navy. Your actions with Bradley would be absolutely considered adultery - it could end your career. You know that. Beau certainly knows that.

Even worse: he doesn’t even know that it’s Rooster. Not only is it adultery, but it could also be an abuse of your power with you being his senior officer.

“That’s what I thought.” Beau spits. He clenches his jaw and straightens up. “Keep your hook-ups away from my kids. Commander.”

He turns towards the door. It takes you a few seconds, long enough for him to reach the handle, for you to process what just happened. Your heartbeat’s in your ears, you’re furious.

“Did you just threaten me?” You snap at him.

He doesn’t answer you. The gold band on his left hand catches the light as he yanks the front door open.

“Some way to treat your fucking wife, Beau.” He’s the one who made such a big deal about you still being his wife in the eyes of the law. If he wants a wife so badly, the least he could do is learn how to treat her.

Beau turns.

“I’d never threaten my wife.” He tells you calmly, then shrugs his shoulders. “But my ex-wife. Different story.”

“Fuck you.” You snap. The door slams behind him.

“Mommy?”

Your head turns to find Taylor looking at you through the gaps in the railings on the stairs. Dylan’s sitting behind her, his face is stone-cold and furious, eyes brimming with tears. He looks so much like Beau.

“Oh, baby…” You sigh.

You move through the paces of wiping her tears, kissing her forehead, reading her a bedtime story and telling her that you and her dad love her more than anything. Dylan retreats to his room without a word. Taylor falls asleep in your arms. You have to wiggle your way out of her bed, stepping over her and crossing the hall.

You knock twice on your son’s door.

“Come in.” He mumbles sheepishly.

You push open the door. He’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, freckled cheeks blotchy and tear-stained. He’s always been sweet and sensitive. Not like you, or Beau. Kinder than both of you.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpers quietly.

You step inside and move to sit beside him on his bed, pulling him into your arms. He sniffles against your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean for him to talk to you like that.” Dylan’s voice is half muffled by your shirt and half broken from his crying, but you know what he’s saying. You rub your palm over his back soothingly.

“It’s not your fault.” You tell him. It’s true, Beau would have found out either way. You just didn’t need that to happen tonight.

Dylan sits back and wipes hurriedly at his tears. “Do you love someone else?”

“No,” You brush his hair back gently off of his forehead, shaking your head softly. “No. But your dad and I aren’t getting back together. Ever.”

Dylan sighs, trying to catch his breath after crying.

“He’s so sad without you. You’re all he talks about.” Dylan admits.

You brush the tears off of his cheeks tenderly.

“Look, I’m going to talk to your dad and make sure he’s on the same page - but he shouldn’t be talking to you about him and I.” You explain quietly.

Dylan nods softly, ashamed of himself for causing such an argument.

You sit with him, leaning back against his alien poster as you turn the conversation away from your ruined marriage. You don’t want this to be on his mind while he’s trying to sleep. Yet, the moment there’s a lull in conversation, Dylan circles back.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”

You sigh softly, leaning your head back against the wall. You look at him. You smile softly.

“I’m seeing someone.” You admit.

Dylan’s lips quirk softly. He leans into you. “Would he yell at you like that?”

You almost laugh at the idea. You shake your head at him.

“He wouldn’t dream of it. I’d kick his ass.” You nudge Dylan playfully with your elbow and he laughs softly. He lifts his gaze to look you in the eye.

There’s a moment where you sit in silence with your firstborn. You feel like he’s slipping through your fingers these days. All these crazy hours at work, everything happening with Beau, just him growing up. Moments of silence like this make it feel like time isn’t getting the better of you.

“If you want to keep dating him, I won’t tell Dad.” He wants you to be happy.

You chuckle softly and lean across to kiss the top of his head, then push yourself to stand.

“Not for you to worry about, honey. But thank you, I appreciate that.”

You tell him goodnight and walk back to your room. You shower and take your time getting ready for bed. Going through the processes of fixing your hair, doing your skincare, taking time for yourself.

Pretending that Beau didn’t just suggest that he’s willing to end your career.

It’s been one of those days that makes your bed feel especially soft by the time that you’re in it. There’s only one thing that could make it better, and he’s in a shitty apartment near the beach, playing video games with his roommates. You wonder if it’s worth it.

If you could guarantee that Beau would never find out, it would be absolutely worth it. The sex, the intimacy, that smile. So worth it. So, so worth it. But not worth your career.

You’re certain that Rooster would understand that.

Rooster can tell that you’re avoiding him the next morning. All through flight exercises. All the way through post-flight. You won’t meet his gaze. He catches you finally as you’re headed back to your office. You sigh softly as he nudges your elbow with his.

“You mad at me or something?” He asks softly.

“No.” You deadpan.

Rooster follows you into your office and shuts the door behind the two of you.

“Talk to me.” He says softly, reaching out to graze his fingertips against yours. You pull your hand away from his and weigh up your options.

Your instinct is to be mean to him - to scare him away and hope that he’ll finally get you out of his head. But, you’re half worried that being mean to him might make him like you even more. The truth it is.

“I had an argument with Beau last night after he dropped the kids off.” You sigh, turning to sit back against the corner of your desk. Rooster’s brows furrow slightly but he doesn’t interrupt. “He… Found out that I had someone over and kind of freaked out.”

“Oh.”

“Look, Bradley-“

“Fuck, please don’t.” Bradley grumbles, already knowing what the beginning of that sentence means.

“While I’m still married to him, it’s adultery. He could ruin my career over this.”

“He wouldn’t, right?” Bradley frowns.

A soft sigh slips your lips as you lean back on your palms. You wouldn’t have expected him to either.

“Fine. We’ll be careful until your divorce is final.” Bradley decides.

“Rooster.” You warn him, folding your arms over your chest.

“Look, I really like you.” Rooster stands up straight and slips his hand into yours. Once again, you’re suckered by those pretty brown eyes. “I want to make this work, whatever that takes.”

You groan and lean your head back, trying to muster a sense of restraint. Just enough to tell him no.

Rooster moves to stand between your knees. You stare at him sternly. His lips quirk up into a smile. He leans in and presses his lips tenderly to yours.

“Let me prove that we can do this.” He murmurs, thumbs stroking softly over the fabric of your khakis. You glance down at your uniform and chuckle. It’s ridiculous that he finds you just as attractive in uniform as he does in nothing at all.

You shake your head, “You’re done in four weeks. After that, you’ll be gone. This isn’t a risk that I can take right now.”

Bradley lifts your chin.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses you tenderly once more. He squeezes at your hips. “Friday. Take a chance, I won’t let you down.”

You watch as he turns and leaves, closing the door to your office behind you. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh. Fuck.

…

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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i swing both ways for a reason.

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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Top Gun Masterlist

Keep reading

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

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Lock & Key: Epilogue - B.B.

A/N: Just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who supported this series! Love and appreciate you all so much, you don’t even realise. I hope you all enjoy! And don’t worry...something new is already on its way... !!Leave me some asks about what you’d like to see me write!!

It was the day after the mission. The night everyone got home, everyone went home. There was no way any of you had the energy to go out that night. You somehow convinced your Dad to let Bradley stay over with you in the house because you didn't want either of them to be alone, so it was the best option in your mind. You, your dad, and Bradley sat in your living room with some of your dad's favourite records playing in the background – some of which Rooster had recommended – and you sat with some drinks and chatted. You all got along - talking and conversing with each other for hours.

Your heart was full. You were leaning back into your dad and your legs were slung over Bradley. You were the happiest you had been in a long time with those two finally getting along.

But soon, you felt your dad's body relax and Bradley nodded when you asked if he had fallen asleep. So, you carefully stood from the couch, and slung a blanket over him and you and Bradley left to your room. You both crashed as soon as your head's hit the pillow, in all honesty. You were both just so happy to be in each other's arms.

In the morning, you woke to the smell of bacon. You and Bradley walked out of your room to see your dad in workout gear, making breakfast for the two of you before leaving for his morning run. He had a bowl of cereal while you and Bradley scoffed multiple rashers of bacon down.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing. You did, however, have to go to a doctor's appointment about your back. But luckily it wasn't as bad as it was before, you just had to take it easy. You were extremely happy no hospital time was needed.

You and Rooster walked on the beach and grabbed some lunch at a nearby diner in town. And you couldn't not take the opportunity to fuck your boyfriend in his bronco.

When you arrived home, you and Bradley got a text to meet the team at The Hard Deck later on. And you informed your father of the invite.

On the warm summer's evening, you put your favourite pair of jeans on and a plain white t-shirt that fit the cut of your jeans. You didn't bother with makeup, and you let your hair go naturally. Bradley – of course – wore one of his father's old Hawaiian shirts with his white t-shirt and jeans. And he couldn't forget the aviator glasses. You and Bradley rode on his motorcycle with your dad on his own behind you, to the bar. You pulled up and placed your helmets on the seat before walking into the crowded and hot bar.

Bradley led the way, holding on tightly to your hand as you weaved through the crowds. You knew your dad was going to see Penny, so you didn't need to wonder where he went off to.

"Hey, guys!" Phoenix welcomed you and Rooster as you finally got to the team in the usual spot.

"Hey, babe." You smiled as you embraced her, letting go of Bradley's hand to do so.

"How's you?" She asked, sitting back onto a barstool.

Bradley brough a seat for you and him and you thanked him as you sat down.

"I'm great. Feeling a lot better. How are you?" You asked.

"Want a beer, hun?" Brad asked you, placing a hand on your hip.

You looked up at him and nodded, "Thanks."

He pressed a kiss to your temple before sliding his hand and his body from you to the bar.

"I'm also a lot better, thank you. But you guys...I mean, come on."

You blushed. You couldn't help it. Just the thought of the man made your whole body get hot. You and Phoenix both looked to him standing at the bar being so casual and charming to Penny. You groaned as you turned back to her.

"I can't even." You sighed.

She chuckled, "He's so happy with you, it's unreal. I've worked with Rooster quite a few times, but I don't think I have ever seen him so genuinely joyful."

You pouted your lips, "I can't believe we went 10 years with no contact. It's crazy to me, now."

"Well, you've got each other now. And I better be first to know when he proposes."

You scoffed a laugh and smacked her leg, "Phoenix!"

"What! He's infatuated with you and he's not a waiting kind of guy. That man knows what he's got, and I don't think he's going to lose you any time soon."

Your whole body warmed. God, you felt like a kid with a playground crush. Your stomach flipped at the thought of him down on one knee. You opened your mouth to retort against her but a hand came to your shoulder to shut you up.

"My ears are burning."

You rolled your eyes and looked up to your boyfriend as he handed you a cold bottle of your favourite beer.

"Were you intentionally listening?" You asked as he sat down next to you.

He shrugged, "I guess you'll never know."

You shook your head and looked to Phoenix. She smiled and sighed.

"You two make me sick in the nicest way possible."

"Love you, too, Phoenix." Bradley commented.

She pretend-laughed before getting up and heading to the bar.

You turned back to your boyfriend and watched as he took a swig of his drink, slinging an arm around the back of your barstool.

"I'm guessing you want marriage at some point, right?" You asked, resting your closest hand on his mid-thigh.

He nodded, "And the house and the kids. The whole package."

"How many kids?" You asked, raising a brow.

"I want an equal number of genders. So however many it takes to get that."

You scoffed, "Well, I'm telling you right now, mister; no more than three."

He furrowed his brows, "Three? That's hardly any!"

"We are both only children. How is that not enough?"

"Because I want a whole baseball team, baby."

You shook your head, "No way in hell, Bradshaw."

You watched your boyfriends eye level rise and his hand lifted from the back of your chair.

"Aint that right, Mav? You want a whole baseball team of grandkids?"

You shook your head ferociously, realising your dad was now behind you.

"Or even a football team would be great." Your dad commented, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged his hand off and he came around to face you with the stupid grin he always wore when he wound you up.

"Not a chance in the world." You said.

Brad placed his arm around your shoulder and you nipped his inner thigh. He yelped, jumping slightly in his seat.

"Any more talk about sports teams, and I'll nip you someplace else where it won't be possible to have one kid."

He held the hand holding his beer up in a gesture of surrender. You smirked at your win and settled back, rubbing your hand over his thigh soothingly. He played with your hair as you both engaged in other conversations with the team.

After about 30 minutes and two and a half drinks down, your dad shouted over to the group from afar.

"Hey, Rooster?"

You all turned, and Bradley moved his hand from behind your seat to your knee.

"Wanna give this old girl a play?"

Mav trail his hand over the top of the piano and tapped it. A grin grew on your face. Bradley turned to look at you as if he needed permission. You squeezed his thigh and nodded.

"On you go." You encouraged.

You thought it was the most wholesome thing ever that he looked at you with such hopeful eyes. He slid off his seat and pressed a kiss to your cheek before heading over to the piano. Your dad pulled the plug from the jukebox and a collection of annoyed sounds came from the crowd. The energy tonight was insane. There were probably more people in the bar than you had ever seen before – and it was all because of your amazing team and your two favourite men.

Phoenix came to stand by you, and you watched as your boyfriend lifted the lid of the piano and sat his beer on top of the instrument, sitting down on the stool. His fingers began toying with the keys and your heart – and somewhere more north – fluttered.

"If that man plays Great Balls of Fire, I'm gonna need another drink." Phoenix commented before leaving your side for the bar.

You chuckled to yourself and stayed seated, happy with your clear view to Bradley. Your dad stood by the piano, and you watched as they laughed and chatted together. He took his aviators from their folded place on his t-shirt and put them on his nose.

He is definitely about to play Great Balls of Fire. You thought to yourself.

You looked at your dad and then to your boyfriend. You watched how happy they both were and how your dad used to tell you and Bradley about the times where Goose would play in the bar with you and Rooster sitting on the piano. And Carole usually joining in, too. You wondered if your dad had somewhat healed from that memory, because he was enjoying himself so much with Bradley.

He started playing some improv, but you knew just by the notes and the key he was in, what he was about to play.

You had such a clear flashback in your mind of a moment you and Bradley spoke about a lot growing up. It was his mom and dad's catchphrases before Goose played something or did something silly. You smirked at the memory and gained a rush of confidence.

"Hey, Rooster, you big stud!" You called from your seat.

Bradley looked over to you, tipping his sunglasses to look through them at you with a huge grin on his face, his fingers still playing the keys. You felt the whole crowd – including your dad – turn to face you.

"That's me, honey!" He replied.

You sat forward, "Take me to bed or lose me forever!"

"Show me the way home, honey!" He called back.

The crowd watched and erupted in laughter and applause as your interaction with Bradley finished and the four iconic chords began to play.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!"

You giddily laughed and stood up from your seat, meeting Phoenix on your way to the piano. She replaced the bottle in your hand with a new one and you thanked her. You both had your arms around each other before you parted ways so you could get closer to Rooster.

"I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny!" Your boyfriend sang, looking to you as you managed to fight your way to his inner circle.

"But you came along and you moved me, honey!"

You grinned as you danced closer to him, using his signature shimmy to get yourself to him. He laughed at you as he sang because you were getting that kind of tipsy. He opened an arm quickly for you and you swiftly slid onto his lap, resting your butt on his right thigh. He closed you back in with his arm.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and he winked at you.

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!" You all sang in unison.

"Kiss me, baby!" He looked to you.

You grabbed the nape of his neck, and he craned his neck slightly to press a kiss to your lips. You held it long enough for you to taste the beer from his lips, but not long enough that it affected the song.

"Ohh, that feels good, baby!" He shivered comically after your kiss and you laughed, shaking your head.

"I want to love you like a lover should,"

He pressed a quick kiss to your arm, tickling your skin with his moustache. You ran your fingers into his hair and smiled at him as he played.

"You're fine!"

"And so kind!" You sang to him.

"Imma tell the world that you're mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!"

You giggled, and laughed, and danced your way through the song. You even attempted to play a few notes, but they were so wrong that you couldn't continue.

As Bradley finished, the whole place erupted in cheers and applause. You looked around the room and it was almost intimidating how big of a crowd had actually formed. Bradley did the same and you both exchanged a look of awe. You grabbed his sunglasses from his face and put them on your own, ignoring how big they were on you.

Bradley swept you up into his arms and you squealed, holding onto his broad shoulders. He had you in bridal hold, swinging you around in circles. Everyone began chanting your names and you felt like you were in a movie.

"Rooster! Locket!"

They kept going. And going. You were laughing and smiling so much your cheeks hurt and the warmth of the beer was spreading through your veins.

Bradley eventually placed you back on the ground, but you still held onto his shoulders for balance. His hands slid around your waist, and you could finally look up at him without the room spinning.

He was smiling so big; his cheeks were flushed, and his hair was messy. You knew how happy he was in that moment, and you felt the exact same.

"You know what?"

"What?" You asked, looking up at him through the aviators.

"I was always going to be the only key to your lock, honey."

Your cheeks flushed, "You are so cheesy, Rooster."

He smirked, and you felt the glasses getting removed from your nose.

"I know. And I don't care." He said, before his lips crashed into yours and the whole bar exploded in whistles and cheers.

Taglist: @mak-32 @anolddayslover @alana4610 @n3ssm0nique @daryldixonstorm @livychan @luckyladycreator2 @justatiredhuman @surely-sherly @marvelsvalhalla @im-your-possession @honey-leclerc @wherearetheavacadosat @welpthathappened @edgypickles @kylpkfbe @lillizxzz @lilpeekabooze @daisyhollyxox @piceous21 @hey-its-kayla-claire @shrimping-for-all @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @khaylin27 @santiiagopopegarcia @avengersfan25 @thescarletknight2014 @beebslebobs @delaneyburghardt @shadowsndaisies @inlovewithstiles @marantha @devrill

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

Text

*Lock & Key: Part Eleven - B.B.

WARNINGS: angst! smut! oral (m receiving), fingering, p-in-v penetrative sex. lotta love. This is the final part guys!

Maverick ran faster than he ever had in his entire life. And that’s saying something.

He ran and ran towards the descending parachute in the distance, hoping to God that Bradley would be okay. After nearly 15 minutes of straight sprinting, Mav could see Bradley in the distance – attempting to bunch up his parachute. His heart lifted, knowing that he was okay – but his legs didn’t stop moving.

“You alright?!” Mav shouted, still running as fast as his feet would allow.

“Yeah, I’m alright! Are you-?”

Maverick shoved Bradley with all of his might, and he plummeted into the snow behind him. Mav ripped his helmet off and stood, hunched over, and attempting to catch his breath. Running that distance with his full gear on was a workout and a half and Mav was beginning to feel his age.

Bradley struggled with taking his helmet off, still submerged in the snow.

“What the hell?” Bradley exclaimed, attempting to get up.

“What are you doing here?”

Bradley shook off the snow, aggravated at Mav’s tone.

“What am I doing here?”

“I sacrificed myself for you! Not so you could be down here with me! You should be back on the carrier by now!” Mav shouted.

“I saved your life!” Bradley shouted back.

“I saved your life. That’s the whole point.” Mav argued, panting still.

“What the hell were you even thinking?”

“You told me not to think!” Bradley rebutted.

Mav stood panting, still staring up at Bradley but now with a guilty look on his face. He did tell him that. Shit.

Bradley threw his hands into the air and then placed them on his hips, staring up at the blue sky and watching as his breath formed a cloud in front of him. He couldn’t believe this.

“Well…it’s good to see you.” Mav said.

Bradley nodded, looking at him again, “Good to see you, too.”

They stood in silence, both catching their breaths and coming to terms with what just happened.

“So, what’s the plan?” Bradley asked.

He looked around. Nothing but snow and tall trees surrounded them. Unless a search party was put out – which he doubted considering the circumstances – they were never going to get home.

“I know where we can go. Come on.” Mav instructed, walking past Bradley.

Bradley watched his godfather walk away and towards whatever was in front of them. He groaned and caught up to him.

The next thing on their mind was you. They both thought about you at the same time.

“Is-”

“Hondo’s taking care of her.” Mav said before Bradley could even finish his thought.

He nodded, “Okay. Good. Do you think he knows we’re okay?”

Mav stayed silent for a while as they walked, not exactly knowing the answer to that.

“He knows me, but he also knows this mission. He’s aware of the risks so, who knows? They could be grieving us right now or they could be laughing and drinking tea for all I know.”

Bradley smiled a little at the thought of you and Hondo just laughing and chatting about nothing, just waiting for him and Mav to get back. But his stomach sunk at the thought of you heartbroken over – not just your father, but your best friend, too. He still had no clue if you guys were boyfriend and girlfriend yet. He sure as hell knew that he loved you.

“I’m in love with your daughter.” Bradley blurted.

Mav didn’t even pause for a second.

“I think I’ve loved her for my whole life.”

Mav nodded. And without looking to Bradley, he simply said, “I know.”

Bradley gulped, looking next to him. Mav kept walking, his eyes going from the snow beneath his feet to the road ahead.

“You knew, what?”

“I always knew you loved her. So did your parents. We weren’t that naïve.”

Bradley was wide-eyed now. He felt so exposed.

“How?”

Maverick scoffed a laugh, “You two were inseparable. You were so nice to one another and the way you both talked about each other, Jesus Christ, it was adorable at the time but yes, we knew how in love you two were.”

“You’re telling me mom and dad both knew?”

Mav laughed, “Of course they did. Remember when there was that Halloween disco at school in what, 7 or 8th grade? And you two wanted to go as Han Solo and Princess Leia? You brought her a flower from your neighbour’s garden and gave it to her, then Goose told me you cried later on that night because y/n lost the flower.”

Bradley had his mouth hanging open in shock. He completely forgot about that.

“Oh my god.” He laughed, rubbing a hand over his flushed face.

How could he have been so stupid to believe his crush on you was under-wraps. He was so blatantly in love with you it was humiliating. He knows it doesn’t really matter anymore but the child inside him is face-palming himself so hard right now.

“And I knew as soon as you found out about y/n being on the mission, you two would get back to how you were.”

Bradley scoffed a laugh, “Well, it took a while to get past the grudge.”

Mav nodded, “She hated you for so long, but I knew she was just hurt. And I knew you’d be hurting, too. In more ways than one. But now you’ve sorted things out. Don’t dare lose it, again.”

Bradley looked at Mav, clenching his jaw. Mav didn’t scare him per-say, he just intimidated Bradley slightly.

“Because if you hurt her, I could kill you. And if she hurts you, then there must be a reason for it, and I’d still kill you.”

Bradley chuckled and nodded, “Fair enough, Mav.”

“Now, I’ve got a plan. Follow my lead.”

---

While your boyfriend and father were currently prepping to get into an ancient F-14, you were limping quickly to the locker room. Hondo followed behind you.

“There’s no way I’m letting them lie there dead for all I know, Hondo.” You told him as you shoved the locker room door open.

Hondo huffed, “You’re not going to get the go ahead, Locket. There’s no point.”

You paused in your tracks. Your back ached but you didn’t care about that right now.

“Hangman.” You thought out loud.

He was on stand-by. He had been declined in the moment, but if he asked to fly again, he could go. You pushed past Hondo and out of the room again, making your way through the ship.

“Locket, stop it.”

You weren’t even listening. His voice was practically white noise to you now. You couldn’t tell if you were burning hot or freezing cold and you had a feeling your body was never going to forgive you for running around without crutches. You didn’t care about hospital time anymore, all you cared about was your dad and Bradley being left stranded.

“Where the hell are you going?” Hondo asked as you climbed a set of stairs to the tarmac.

You looked down at him, standing with a shocked and confused face, with a hand on the banister. You didn’t stop moving. Your feet wouldn’t allow it.

“To talk to Hangman.” You stated, before turning back around and finishing the climb.

You were struck by wind as you stepped outside, nearly toppling you over. You were still in your khakis, but the flight crew seemed to allow you up. You heard Hondo’s footsteps and your heart pounded. You searched for Hangman’s plane for what felt like forever before you spotted it. You ran – and limped – to Hangman’s plane.

You banged on the side of the jet and curled down the ladder yourself. Hangman took off his helmet and looked at you climbing up in awe.

“What the hell are you doing, Locket?!” He exclaimed.

“You need to go get them, Hangman.” You stated.

He scoffed, “I tried, but Simpson said not to.”

“It’s Bradley, Hangman. Its Rooster, okay? And it’s my dad. I can’t fly so I need you to do it for me.”

He shook his head, “You know it’s not that easy. Are you high off of pain killers or something?”

“No but-”

“Dagger spare, do you copy?”

You and Hangman froze, staring at each other. He spoke into his comms without looking away from you.

“Dagger spare, copy.” He replied.

“Rooster’s E-Sat is online. He’s airborne.”

You gasped, your eyes blowing wide and your heart lifting to your throat.

“Holy shit.” You whispered.

“Reports of an F-14 tomcat is headed for our position. They’ll need backup.”

“Copy, on it.” Hangman replied.

You were speechless. You were feeling so many things all at once.

“Who else would fly a goddamn F-14 with Rooster?” Hangman commented with a smirk.

You lunged forward and embraced him, despite the uncomfortable position. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the hug, but you knew he was smiling.

“Go save the day, Bagman.” You quipped, pulling back from the hug, and descending back down the ladder.

Bradley and your dad were flying smoothly now. The mountains and hills below them were sprinkled with snow and the cloudless sky above seemed vast.

Bradley examined what was in front of him in the backseat. He had absolutely no clue how to do this. He was staring at hundreds of buttons and switches with no knowledge of how to work them.

“Right, Rooster, try and get us back in touch with the carrier.” Mav said.

“I’m workin’ on it.” Bradley replied, skimming his fingers over the array of switches.

“The radio’s out, there’s no radar. Everything’s dead back here.” He sighed, dropping his unhelpful hands.

“What do I do? Talk me through it.”

“Okay, first, the radio. Throw on the circuit breaker.”

“There’s hundreds of breakers back here; anything more specific?” Bradley asked.

Maverick’s lip pulled into a small smile, “I don’t know. That was your dads department.”

Bradley nodded, “I’ll figure it out.”

All he could think about was you. He hoped you knew he was okay. And he wished you were okay, too. Bradley wanted to keep his mind busy because thinking of you wasn’t helping. He fiddled with the different breakers and switches, hoping he’d eventually find the right one.

He switched sides, turning to look behind him when he saw two jets out of the window. His heart dropped.

“Mav, tally two, five o’clock – low.” He announced.

He kept an eye on them but flickered his attention to Maverick who was quiet.

“What do we do?” Bradley asked.

“Just be cool, if they knew who we were we’d be dead already.”

The two jets flew up in formation with the F-14. Bradley swallowed.

“Well, here they come. What’s your plan?”

Mav clicked on his mask, “Remember we’re on the same team. Wave and smile.”

The jets flew up next to them and Bradley fumbled slightly with his mask as he put it into place. His heart rate began to rise and all he could think about was you.

Bradley and Mav waved to the opposite pilots who didn’t seem to want to wave back. One pilot signalled. Bradley kept his eyes on the pilot.

“What’s he saying?”

“No clue.” Maverick responded.

Bradley gulped. The pilot signalled again. Shit.

“That one?”

“Never seen that one before, either.”

The pilot turned to face front again. Bradley furrowed his brows then watched as the wingman moved behind them.

“Shit.” He cursed.

“Right, listen up. When I tell you – you grab those rings above your head and pull. Those are the ejection handles.”

Bradley felt a wave of emotion and his brain didn’t know how to compute it. He was Mav’s backseater in an F-14 and he now had to think about ejecting. His brain felt like it was frying. He was in the same position his dad was before he died. Bradley tried to pry that thought from his head.

“Mav, can we outrun these guys?”

“Not their missiles and guns.”

Bradley paused, trying to comprehend what was about to happen.

“So it’s a dogfight.”

“In an F-14 against 5th gen fighters…”

“It’s not the plane. It’s the pilot.” Bradley said.

“You’d go after ‘em if I wasn’t here.”

Maverick scoffed, “But you are here.”

Bradley’s heart sunk.

“C’mon, Mav. Don’t think. Just do.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Hondo shouted at you.

You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. He stood still for a moment before lightly placing his hands on your back.

“What’s going on, Locket?”

You pulled back and looked at Hondo, “Dad and Bradley are alive. They’re in an F-14 and hopefully they’re coming home. Hangman just got sent to get them.”

Hondo’s mouth slowly dropped open. You bit your lip, feeling your nose tingle again. You were not about to cry in front of Hondo again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, nodding his way through his thoughts.

“You’re your father’s daughter, that’s for sure.” He finally spoke.

You grinned and squeezed his arm before walking back down the stairs.

He followed behind you as you marched towards the control room, bursting through the doors and sitting back down in your seat.

“Locket, you shouldn’t be in here.” Simpson told you.

You looked up at him, “I need to be here.”

Simpson opened his mouth to tell you off, but Hondo cut in front of him and stared him down as he sat next to you.

“She needs to be here.” Hondo reiterated.

Simpson closed his mouth and clenched his jaw.

“Fine.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You focused on the sound of your heart beating, pressing your fingers to your wrist. No more crying. No more hysterics. You had to focus. Anything could happen and you needed to be prepared. Your back ached, adding to the pressure and tension that encapsulated your entire being. You rolled your head, stretching your neck, and then opened your eyes.

“The GPS is not responding. I think they’re low in terrain.”

Hangman spoke over comms. You watched as Bates and Simpson gave each other a look.

“Tell him to keep high, don’t go below deck. They’re in a dogfight.” Simpson ordered.

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool. Your brain was all over the place. You couldn’t hear them, so you had no clue about where they were or what they were doing. But the sound of your dad getting into a dogfight in an F-14 sounds about right. You were a little surprised that he would be doing it with Bradley in the backseat. It sure was one hell of a bonding session.

“Sir, we have a signal connecting to Rooster’s E-Sat. We’ve got their location.”

Your eyes lit up and your jaw dropped. Hondo grasped your shoulder and you turned to face his huge grin.

“They’re okay.” You whispered in disbelief.

He nodded, “Of course they are.”

You took a deep breath and exhaled. They were coming home.

“We’re out of flares, Mav!” Bradley shouted from the backseat.

His hands flailed about, trying to keep himself in place while he checked around him for the new jet that was attacking them.

“Shit, he’s already on us! This is not good!” He exclaimed, trying to keep an eye on the jet.

Maverick stayed silent, trying to put all of his focus into dodging the guns and bombs this plane was sending towards them. But the only image he had in his head was of nearly 30 years ago when he and Goose were in a jet over the ocean in an unmovable mission. History was repeating itself.

Maverick shook the thoughts out of his head as Bradley announced that they took another hit.

“No, no, no,” Mav repeated to himself.

The jets engines were getting shot at and lights started flashing everywhere around Bradley. He groaned.

“We can’t take much more of this!”

“We’re not gonna outrun this guy. We’ll need to eject. We need altitude. Pull the ejection handles the second I tell you!” Mav ordered.

Bradley’s heart dropped, “Mav, no-”

“Rooster, there’s no other way!”

Maverick pulled up fast, sending them vertical in the air. Bradley couldn’t help but panic, now. He gripped the ejection handles, waiting for Mavericks ‘go’. His heart was pounding, and everything was moving in slow motion.

He knew this was how his father died and he couldn’t bare the thought of it happening again. His chest felt tight as they climbed higher and higher, and he groaned and grunted to let some tension go but nothing was working.

A picture of you flashed into his mind. You in his car after prom nearly a decade ago. Your eyes dark and tired, your flushed skin glowing in the moonlight, your hair still wet and in its natural form. Your beaming smile and your laugh that you got embarrassed about and dug your head into Bradley’s chest to hide your blushing cheeks.

The thought soothed him for a split second.

“Eject! Eject! Eject!”

He woke up from the daydream and pulled the ejection handles above his head. Once. Twice. Three times. Why the hell wasn’t it working?

“Rooster, pull the handles!” Maverick shouted.

“It’s not working!” Bradley shouted back.

He kept pulling. Harder and harder. It was broken. His whole insides felt like they dropped. They weren’t getting out of this alive.

Mav just kept climbing and trying to control his breathing. Not only was he going to lose his daughter, but he was practically losing his son, too.

“Mav!” Bradley shouted at him from the backseat.

The blood was rushing to his head, and he scrambled around for something to hold on to. Something to ground him. He had no clue what Mav was doing. Everything inside of him was screaming.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Goose.” Maverick whispered.

Bradley squeezed his eyes shut. This was it. He suddenly missed his dad and his mom.

He heard the sound of an explosion behind them. Bradley turned with all his might to look behind and realised that he was okay. He was still breathing. Still moving.

Behind them was a colossal cloud of black smoke in the air. And before he could even ask what had happened, a jet flew through the cloud.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your saviour speaking.”

Bradley’s heart lifted and the biggest wave of relief swarmed over him.

“Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing.” Hangman said with the most nonchalant cocky voice he always spoke in.

Bradley laughed. He had never been happier to see that man in his life. Hangman flew alongside Mav and Bradley, giving a small salute to them. Mav banged on the window, giving him a thumbs up. He could finally breathe again.

“Hey, Hangman. You look good.” Bradley said with a grin.

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good.” He replied.

Bradley chuckled and nodded at him. Hangman pulled away and flew off, going back to the carrier.

“Please fasten your seatbelts…and prepare for landing.”

Your whole body felt relief as Hangman spoke, making it very known that Bradley and your dad were okay. You slumped back in your chair, taking a moment for a breath. The room had erupted in cheers and high-fives. You just needed a quiet moment to yourself. Never again would you ever have an injury before a mission. Never again.

“Make sure they get home safe. We’re going to see them come in.” Bates said.

He flashed you a wink as him and Simpson left the control room, and you returned him with a smile.

“You alright?” Hondo asked.

You nodded, “Never been better.”

He grinned and nodded. He stood up, cracking his knuckles and his neck before extending his hand to you.

“Come on, let’s see those two sons of bitches arrive safely.”

You chuckled and placed your hand in his, letting him escort you to tarmac.

Bradley was grinning the whole way back, and during their fly-by…and as they began descending. Until the jet jolted and he hung his head back.

“Please don’t tell me we lost an engine.” He said, shaking his head.

Maverick paused, “Alright, I won’t tell you that.”

“Okay.” Bradley responded, keeping his arms tucked in and his body tense as they began landing.

They smacked down on the tarmac, making both of their heads fly forwards and back. The jet scraped along the scorching hot ground until it came to a halt, leaving Mav and Bradley still in the plane while crew worked around them with fire extinguishers.

“You good?” Mav asked.

“Yeah. I’m good.” Bradley responded, a slight chuckle following.

Neither of them could believe they actually made it. They stayed seated in the plane, both silent together, thinking about what just happened. Bradley leaned his head back and shook his head.

But their moment of quiet wasn’t long, as hundreds of crew members and pilots ran towards the plane, cheering and shouting. The top of the plane rose, and Bradley lifted his helmet up in triumph.

You raced up the stairs and saw the jet on the tarmac. But the crowds of people surrounding it was huge and you were going to have to push your way through. You started jogging towards the crowd and excuse me’d your way through the heaps of people. You saw the top of Bradley’s helmet in the air and your adrenaline rushed through you.

Hondo met Maverick at the jet, taking him in a tight embrace.

“You good?” Hondo asked, shouting over the noise.

“I’m good! Where’s y/n?”

Hondo looked around, attempting to find you.

“Give me a minute!” He shouted back.

Maverick nodded and swallowed. He just wanted to hold you. He needed to ground himself. Part of him believed he was still out there and he didn’t make it.

Phoenix grabbed Bradley in the tightest hug and pushed him back with a grin. He laughed. His face hurt from smiling so much.

Hangman approached Bradley, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he came face-to-face with him. They looked at each other, mutually and non-verbally putting their rivalry to rest. Hangman extended his gloved hand and Bradley smirked, shaking his hand.

“Got yourself another kill?” Bradley commented.

“That makes two.” Hangman stated.

“Maverick has five. Makes him an ace.” Phoenix added.

Bradley turned to Hangman and they both quirked their eyebrows.

You pushed your way through the crowd until you bumped into Hondo.

“Come on, slow coach.” Hondo grabbed your wrist with a laugh.

You followed behind him and just like magic, the crowd parted slightly, and you and your dad caught sight of each other. Hondo dropped your arm, and you felt your whole body relax. Tears filled your eyes and your feet moved before your brain could allow it. You ran into your dads arms, letting him wrap his arms tightly around you.

You cried into his chest and he leaned his head against yours. You knew he was crying, too.

“Are you okay?” You asked with a croaky voice.

“I’m alright, sweetie. I’m here.”

Your hands wrapped fully around his middle and held him so tight.

“I thought I lost you.” You said to him.

He pulled back from you and held your shoulders, “You’re never losing me, y/n. I’m not going anywhere.”

You smiled and covered his hands with yours, shaking your head in disbelief. You opened your mouth to say something, but your dad jumped in before the words could come out.

“We’ll talk later, okay? I think you need to see Bradley.”

You nodded. Fuck. You were nervous. Why were you nervous? Just the sound of his name made your whole stomach flip upside down. You took a deep breath, and your dad nodded you through it. He held your hand and squeezed it before you left him to fight through the crowd to find him.

You were disorientated and confused when the farther you got, the less crowd there was and there was no sight of him. You started to panic. Had he just left without saying anything to?

You were now standing on your own and you looked back at the huge crowd surrounding your dad. But you couldn’t see Bradley. You felt like a child who had lost someone in a supermarket. The panic settled in your stomach. Maybe he didn’t want to see you.

Your throat and nose burned as tears began streaming from your eyes.

“B-Bradley?” You called feebly into the crowd.

Not a single soul turned around.

“Bradley!” You shouted again.

You pushed your way back in, frantically looking up at any man who remotely resembled him.

“Brad!”

You shouted his name over and over again into the crowd.

Rooster had left the crowd for a moment for some air. He couldn’t find you and he was getting claustrophobic. Phoenix, Bob, Hangman, and the team waited with him as he took his time breathing. He felt ill. Why hadn’t you come to see him yet?

“Rooster!” You called.

“She’ll just be with her dad, Bradshaw. Don’t worry about it.” Phoenix said calmly, rubbing his back.

“Bradley!”

His ears pricked up and his back straightened.

“I think I heard her.” He said quietly.

“What?” Bob asked.

“Brad!” You felt small in this huge crowd and all you wanted to do was get out of it.

“I can hear her.”

He dropped his helmet and walked closer to the crowd. When he saw you. Lost in the crowd. He saw you fight your way through everyone and in his mind he cursed you for not taking it easy with your back.

“y/n!” He shouted, his voice travelling to you.

You paused and raised up onto your tiptoes. You swear you could see a glimpse of him past a few more rows of people.

“Bradley!” You squealed.

You shoved a few people out the way until you were finally out of the crowd. And Brad was facing you, only a few metres away. You both stopped in your tracks and stared at each other.

You raised a hand to your mouth, feeling the tears begin to flow again. He lifted his hands to his face, covering his eyes and dipping his head.

You started walking to him. Then started running. He moved his hands and ran towards you - meeting you halfway.

You crashed into him, wrapping your arms up around his shoulders. You were on your tiptoes, pulling him as close to you as possible. He wrapped one arm around your waist and another came to cup the back of your head protectively against his neck.

“I thought you died, Brad. I thought you were gone.” You sobbed into his skin.

His skin. You couldn’t get closer to him if you tried, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“I told you. I’m never leaving you.” He commented, sniffling and pressing a kiss to your head through your hair.

You pulled away from him and cupped his cheeks. He looked down at you with the biggest eyes on the planet and you melted.

“You saved him, didn’t you.” You whispered, wiping a tear from his cheek.

He nodded, “Because he saved me.”

You bit your lip, attempting not to sob.

“I love you.” You told him.

His mouth dropped open slightly. His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips and before you knew it, his mouth was on yours. You hummed and wrapped your arms entirely around his neck. He lifted you up with his hands around your waist, your feet lifting up from the ground.

His lips moved against yours in synchronisation, and his hands gripped onto you so hard it was like he would never let go of you ever again.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips between kisses.

You grinned, “I love you.”

He smiled into the kiss and pressed one last peck against your swollen lips as he set you back on the ground.

“Are we gonna talk about how you’re not on your crutches, or-”

“That is not what you should be worrying about, right now.” You said sternly.

He smirked, “Okay.”

“Okay.” You smiled back.

“Jesus, we get it, you’re in love!” Hangman shouted from behind Bradley.

You looked past Rooster’s shoulder and to Hangman and the team who were all standing with huge grins on their face. You squeezed Bradley’s shoulder, and he kept his hand attached to your waist until he physically couldn’t as you jogged towards Hangman.

Hangman stood still, waiting for you coming to him. You approached him and punched him in the shoulder. He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes.

“That’s for being a dick to me and my boyfriend.” You said.

He rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder.

“But that’s also a thank you for saving him and my dad.”

He smiled, “You’ll never hear the end of this, Locket. I hope you know that.”

You rolled your eyes, “One day, I’ll get to save your ass and we’ll be 50/50.”

He put his hands on his hips, “I guess you’re right.”

Bradley came up behind you and pressed his hand against the small of your back. He lowered down to press a kiss against your cheek.

“I’m gonna talk to your dad. I’ll be back in a minute.”

You nodded and turned your head to look up at him, “Okay.”

He smiled down at you and you couldn’t not smile back at him.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you, too.”

He pressed a peck against your lips before jogging back to the crowd.

“You guys disgust me.” Phoenix commented.

You laughed and wrapped your arm around her shoulders, letting the team walk you back inside.

“I knew you guys were fucking.” Hangman interjected.

You shoved him, “I’ll take back all of my niceness, Bagman. Watch it.”

---

You were lying across one of the benches, nearly falling asleep as Phoenix talked about the mission. She was just out of the shower and getting back into her khakis and you hadn’t even thought about a shower yet. You had taken your hair out of the painful bun it was in, but other than that you had barely moved. You were wondering why Bradley was taking so long. He must be getting heaps of praise. You were hoping the mission was the final thing that could bond him and your dad back together.

“Locket?”

You opened your eyes and let the cloud of thoughts burst above your head. You lifted your eyeline up to Phoenix who was looking at you confused as she brushed her hair back.

“Were you even listening?” She asked, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

You yawned, “Sorry, Nat. Keep going.”

“It’s fine. You need some rest. We all do.”

She sat down next to your legs, and you laid them across her lap. She smiled.

“You know, I wasn’t trying to be rude or second guess Rooster when your dad got hit. I just didn’t want him to get hurt.” She explained softly.

You sat up, leaning back on your palms.

“Nat, I never thought about it like that. You were all trying to keep him safe, you were right to say that. But…if it wasn’t for him then dad would have been gone.” You said.

Phoenix looked down at your legs, fiddling with your uniform.

“And if they didn’t end up together, then they’d both be dead.” You laughed.

Phoenix smirked. You could tell she felt overwhelmed, and you didn’t blame her. You couldn’t imagine being up there with one of your closest friends and having to watch him nearly kill himself.

“Are you okay?” You asked her quietly.

She looked down and nodded. But her hands went to her face quickly and you swiped your legs off her lap to scooch close to her and embrace her. She cried into your arms, and you leaned your head against hers.

“You’ve been through a lot today. You have every right to feel overwhelmed and emotional.” You told her, rubbing her back.

She sniffled, “I know. It was just a lot. I thought we lost Rooster, you know?”

You started tearing up. You always cried when someone else cried. You nodded.

“I know. But you got home safe and so did he. We’re all okay.”

You closed your eyes as you and her rocked gently from side to side as she cried into your arms. You took some deep breaths and she copied. It was soothing, the silence in the locker room. Until the door creaked open.

You peeled an eye open to look up at Bradley. He had stepped half in the room and paused when he saw you two. You smiled up at him, nodding him over and he took it as an okay to come in. He quietly closed the door behind him and started taking off his gear. You were so in love with him. Just watching him trying to be as quiet as possible was making your heart flutter.

He sat on the bench and slid along to meet Phoenix on her other side. His hand came to her back to rub it gently.

“Hey,” He practically whispered.

She looked up to him and burst into laughter, wiping her tears away.

“What’s this all about, huh?” He asked with a smirk.

“You being an asshole and nearly killing yourself.” She choked out.

His eyes widened in surprise, clearly not used to seeing his friend in such a state.

“I’m still alive though. No way I was going to let you live your life without me annoying you.”

She rolled her eyes and wiped her nose. He held his arms out to her and she chuckled before embracing him. You put a hand to her knee to let her know you were still there for her as she hugged your boyfriend.

Bradley kissed the top of her head and didn’t let her go. You felt like crying. He was so gentle. For someone who has gone through as much as he has, you were amazed at how amazing a person he was. He cared so deeply about everything. You believed it was a gift and not a weakness.

You sighed and wiped a hand over your face. Brad caught your eye and nodded his head as if to say ‘What’s up?’

“Just tired.” You mouthed.

He nodded understandingly.

“Me too.” He mouthed.

You nodded back.

You watched them as Phoenix relaxed completely against him. You were worried she was falling asleep. You looked from her to Bradley with a fond smile and he caught your eye.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He mimed a kiss and you did it back, both of you grinning afterwards.

Phoenix sat back up, groaning and wiping her eyes, “I’m so done with today.”

You all laughed, “You need a cold beer after this.” You said.

She nodded, “That is the truest thing I’ve ever heard, Locket.”

You smiled as she stood up and grabbed her stuff. She walked back over and ruffled your boyfriends hair as she headed for the door.

“I’ll leave you two love birds alone.” She said before leaving.

“Don’t be too loud!” She shouted from the corridor as the door shut behind her.

You laughed, rolling your eyes.

You and Bradley were left alone and in silence. You stared at one another, simultaneously taking a deep breath. You looked at him. Really looked at him. He had some dirt across his face and his hair was messy and darker than usual. His nose and cheeks were a light shade of red and his eyes looked tired but still bright. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly but he still seemed in good spirits.

“Do you need a shower?” He asked, standing up from the bench with a groan.

You nodded. He opened his locker and took out his toilet bag, sitting it next to you. You watched with wide eyes as he began unzipping his flight suit so it rested low on his hips. He reached for the hem of his black t-shirt underneath – but not before you could admire the way his biceps looked against the sleeves. And as he pulled it over his head, you pulled your lip between your teeth. How his V-line showed, and the trail of sandy-blonde hair that connected to his belly button. How his rippling abs looked effortless, and his shoulders looked so broad.

“Honey, you good?” He asked with a smirk, folding his t-shirt and putting it on the bench.

“More than good, now.” You remarked.

He shook his head and pushed the flight suit down to his ankles and stepped out of it. Now he was just annoying you. Black boxers clung to his thick thighs and you didn’t fail to notice the shape beneath them.

“Jesus, Brad.” You sighed.

He scoffed, “You’re not serious.”

“What? Am I not allowed to appreciate you?” You asked, standing up.

“You can’t be horny right now.” He laughed.

You started unbuttoning your shirt and taking it from beneath your trousers. He watched you as he folded his flight suit up. His tongue poked out to swipe over his bottom lip as he watched you part the shirt to show your white bra underneath.

You looked up at him with doe eyes as you peeled it off of your back and dropped it on the bench. He gulped, and you revelled in watching his Adams apple bob up and down.

You stepped closer to your boyfriend, your hand going to the button on your trousers. He took a deep breath in and held it, as if he was trying not to crack under pressure.

You looked up at him as you unbuttoned your trousers and pulled the zip down.

“I think we both need a shower.” You said quietly.

Your breath fanned across his lips, and he clenched his jaw. You pushed your trousers down to the floor and stepped out of them. Bradley’s eyes wandered down your chest to your white panties. He looked back to your eyes, and they had darkened within milliseconds.

“And I want to show my boyfriend-” You slid your hands up his torso and to his broad shoulders.

You stood up on your tiptoes and curled a hand to the nape of his warm neck, bringing him closer to you.

“How proud I am of him.” You whispered into his ear.

He shuddered ever so slightly, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. His hands hovered over your hips – knowing that if he was to touch you now, he’d have to take you right there and then.

You pressed a kiss to his ear and then his cheek.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back. I missed you, baby.”

He hummed at your words, eyes still closed, brain trying to decide what it wants.

One hand left his shoulder and travelled down his body to the waistband of his boxers. Your fingers teased it, dipping underneath and feeling a tickle of his hair. You smirked against his cheek.

“Please give me it. I need it.” You whispered.

That sent him flying. He crashed his lips against yours and you hummed in surprise, picking your arms up to fall around his shoulders. His hands went to your thighs, dipping down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported your ass as he walked forwards to one of the showers.

Your tongue’s pushed against each other’s in need, the roughness of his moustache digging into your upper lip. He stepped up into one of the cubicles and turned on the shower. He pressed you against the wall and pulled back from your lips.

His hand curled around your back to rid you of your bra, and he sent it out the curtain. He pulled it shut and pressed up against you. The water was warm now and the steam began surrounding you. He encased your lips with his, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moaned, running your fingers up into his hair as your lips moved with his and his hands squeezed your ass.

You resisted against him and he cautiously stopped kissing you. You looked up at him – his eyes worried and wondering what was wrong. But you unwrapped your legs and sunk to your knees before he could ask you if you were okay. His jaw dropped and you pushed down his – now wet – boxers.

His half-hard cock sprung free and into your hand.

“Baby,” He moaned, as you began stroking him.

He pressed one hand on the wall behind you and the other to your hair, pushing it back from your forehead. You kept looking up at him and you marvelled at how he looked from this angle. He looked chiselled from a God and your mouth salivated at the view.

You braced one hand against his thigh and used the other to stroke him, spitting onto his length as you did. He groaned and bit his lip as you finally took him in your mouth. You sucked on his tip, moaning around him. He squeezed the back of your head like he was refraining from fucking your face. You got wet instantly and pressed your thighs together. You didn’t care how uncomfortable the floor was beneath you. How could you care about anything else when Bradley and all of his toned abs, thick thighs and blissed out face was above you?

“You feel so good, baby. Shit.” He moaned, collecting your hair into a ponytail.

You bobbed your head on his length, easing your mouth and throat to the size of him. Somehow, he felt bigger in your mouth than he did anywhere else. You could feel his cock getting harder as you sucked and swirled your tongue around his tip. He groaned, biting his lip so hard you were worried he’d cut his lip.

He brought his other hand down to cup under your chin and you looked up at him, pausing with his cock still in your mouth, resting on your flattened tongue.

A beat of silence. Tension. His dark eyes staring down at you with lust and adoration. You broke the stillness by bobbing your head slowly forwards as you kept your eyes on him. He stuttered a groan, his mouth falling open. His hands guided you as he thrusted into your mouth ever so slightly, mentoring you through it.

“Look so pretty like this, with my cock in your mouth, honey.”

You squeezed your thighs. Jesus Christ.

You pulled off of him for a breath of air. One of your hands cupped under his balls, massaging them while your other stroked him, your thumb grazing his tip. You took a breath before slackening your jaw for him once again. He hummed, encouraging you forward with his hands.

“That’s it, baby. So good for me.” He praised as you let him take control of you.

He pulled you forward and thrusted at the same time, allowing you to rest your hands on his thighs and focus on your breathing. He rocked his hips back and forth, and you kept your gaze on him – blinking tears back with every stroke.

You moaned around him when you felt him twitch in your mouth, but he pulled away from you quickly and lifted your chin to look up at him. You gasped and gulped in surprise.

“Don’t wanna come in your mouth. Wanna come in your pussy.” He stated as he pulled you up from the floor.

He pushed and pulled at your pants until they splatted on a pool on the ground, and he was on you again, slipping his tongue past your bottom lip. You held him close to you and kissed him with fervour, not wanting to let go.

His hand trailed down to your soaked core and your breath hitched in your throat. His hand paused. You knew how wet you were, it was embarrassing. But he smirked into your kiss and began kissing down your neck. You leaned your head back and gaped your mouth open as his mouth attached to your nipple.

“Brad,” You moaned, tugging on his wet hair.

He sucked and licked your sensitive nipple while his fingers played with your clit, circling, and applying pressure. You bucked your hips against him and pulled him up to face you again.

“Fuck me, Rooster.” You whined impatiently.

His screwed his face up and practically moaned when he heard his callsign fall from your lips. Suddenly it wasn’t weird hearing it from you. It wasn’t off-putting it was…nice and sexy.

“How would you like me, Lieutenant?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

You bit your lip with a smile and put your hands on his shoulders. You jumped up and he caught you effortlessly and pushed you against the wall.

“Is this alright, sir?” You asked.

“More than alright, ma’am.”

“Fuck me, then.”

He pushed into you with no further convincing needed. You both moaned in sync as he stretched you and allowed you to adjust to him. He pushed some wet hair away from your face and tucked them behind your ears.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n.” He marvelled at you.

You dug your heels into his ass, letting him begin to thrust into you. You didn’t know what to say to him. You just held onto his neck and hoped he’d understand you. He let his head fall forward to the crook of your neck and started lazily kissing your skin. His thrusts were deep and delicious as he grinded up into you. He held onto your thighs and dug his fingernails into your skin.

“Harder, baby.” You groaned.

He grunted against your skin and did as you asked. He pulled his hips back and snapped them hard into you. You cried out, gripping onto him for dear life as he started relentlessly fucking you. His cock drove deep into your tight pussy and every thrust was getting you closer and closer to your peak.

“I need this everyday of my life, now. Never letting you go 24 hours without making you come.” He said to you, lifting his head.

“What about – oh – when we’re – f-fuck – on deployme-ent.” You stuttered.

He smirked and slowed down his thrusts, rolling his hips into you and allowing his tip to graze a spot inside of you that you never knew was there.

“Honey, I can still make you come when we’re not together. Have you heard of an invention called the phone?” He remarked, giving you a small slap to your ass.

You yelped, “You’re too cocky for your own good, Bradshaw.”

He pushed closer to you, and you gasped as his entire length filled you. You furrowed your brows and gripped him even tighter. He smirked at your reaction. You moved your hips against him, letting your clit brush up and down against his pubic hair.

“I’m cocky for a reason, princess.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you nearly came right there. How could he be so fucking dirty and gentle at the same time?

“I hate you.” You groaned.

“I love you, too.” He quipped.

You smiled and he slowly began thrusting into you again, building up a speed.

It didn’t take much time before he had you coming around him, moaning and crying out his name as he pushed you over the edge and fucked you through it. He came just after you, and you held him close as he dug his head into your neck, letting grunts and groans escape his lips. You both needed the relief, and you were just lucky you could both be there to give it to each other.

After the productive shower, you two got dressed back into uniform and left the locker room hand in hand. A kiss was pressed to your forehead as you left and then to your cheek and then to your lips. You giggled against him and attempted to push him off you. If Bates or Simpson – or God forbid your father – found you two making out in uniform, you’d want to die on the spot. He didn’t let you go before pushing you up against the wall and giving you a kiss that was lingering on your lips until the second the carrier hit home.

#topgun #top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #smut #fluff #angst #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #top gun series #maverick #romance #miles teller #top gun:maverick

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years ago

Text

Ceasefire | 0.4 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: Warning: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, angst, minor smut - snippets rather than the full scene

…

“I can’t find my shoe!” Dylan growls in complaint. He’s tearing his room apart. Beau’s Mercedes is sitting in your driveway twenty minutes after it arrived. You let out a heavy sigh as you turn and walk up the stairs towards his room. You don’t understand how this keeps happening. There is a designated place he’s supposed to leave his shoes, and that’s right by the front door.

The worst part? - It’s not even both of his shoes that are missing. One of them’s down there on the rack like it’s supposed to be. How does someone lose one shoe?

“Have you checked-“

“Got it.” You round the corner in time to see your son shove something into the bottom of his backpack and spin to face you. This hits you like a stack of bricks. There’s no way he’s at the age where he’s going to start keeping things from you already. You press your lips together and sigh gently.

Dylan’s eyes widen slightly. You squint at him.

“Hey Dyl,” You say gently, blocking the door way as you lean against the wooden frame. He shifts slightly on his feet. “You remember that conversation we had about respecting each other’s privacy and stuff?”

He nods uncertainly at you.

“I have a duty to keep you safe that surpasses our respect for each other’s privacy.” You tell him softly. “So, with that in mind, do I need to know what’s in that bag?”

“Nope. Bye, mom.” He’s still small enough to dip around you. You turn and follow him back downstairs towards his father. Beau’s waiting in the driveway with Taylor in his arms. He’s smiling and they’re talking about something. Dylan heads over to join them, walking straight past his father and sliding into the passenger seat.

“Buddy, make sure she buckles herself in.” Beau tells your son. He sets Taylor down and nods for her to get in the car, then begins towards you. You fold your arms over your chest.

“How was your Friday?” Beau teases as he steps up towards the front door.

“Something’s up with him.” You change the subject quickly and look towards your son in the passenger seat of Beau’s car. Beau nods his head in agreement but doesn’t look back.

“He’s a middle schooler.” Beau chooses the peaceful option rather than reminding you that his son might be upset because his family has just been torn apart. He knows that the look in your eye means that you expect something of him. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

“He has homework too. Don’t let him convince you that he’s already done it because he hasn’t.”

Beau chuckles. He nods his head and turns away from you, “Make sure to relax tonight, honey. You sound wound up.”

You swing the door shut before he’s down the steps.

Bradley shows up on time, twenty minutes later. You frown slightly as he gets out of his bronco. He’s wearing an oversized shirt with a baseball team’s logo on it and loose fitting shorts. Dark sunglasses and a backwards cap on his head. You scrunch your nose disapprovingly. You agreed to fuck one of the best fighter pilots in the world, not a frat boy.

As he gets closer, you can see that he’s flushed red and there’s sweat beading on his forehead. Sure, it’s summer, but it’s not any hotter than usual. Bradley doesn’t look at you. You open the door wider for him to step out of his way, half-way concerned that if you didn’t then he was just going to bulldoze right through you.

“You okay?” You ask as he steps past you and adjusts his sunglasses, but relents to take them off. He nods slowly and stretches his arms up over his head. Your hand remains on the front door, holding it open as you turn to watch him. He groans softly as he stretches out his aching body.

“Uh-huh.” He mutters. You roll your eyes, he’s still pissed about yesterday.

“Are you sick?” You frown.

“Just hungover.” He answers without looking at you. He sighs as he cranes his neck to stretch out the kink in it. As his neck bends, your eyes catch on the faint red lines at the top of his back, peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. You frown.

No way did this idiot roll straight out of a one night stand’s bed and turn up here.

“So you were out last night?” You ask.

Bradley shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t mention going home with anyone else. You stare at the red marks at the top of his back, dismayed as they disappear back under the fabric of his shirt as he drops his arms back down by his sides.

You bite your cheek. There’s a split-second where you try to reason with yourself. He’s young and he’s certainly not committed to you - especially not after you damn near bit his head off for joking about marrying you yesterday. Reason loses today’s debate. You narrow your eyes at those red marks on the back of his neck. Certainly nothing other than nail marks.

It’s easy enough to convince yourself that it isn’t jealousy you’re feeling. It’s disrespectful. That’s why you’re upset. You refuse to be disrespected by this idiot.

“Take your shirt off.” You demand.

Bradley turns his head towards you. There’s a split second of confusion. That’s why he’s here anyway, he knows it. He reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, stretching out the collar to avoid knocking his sunglasses off of his head.

You swing the front door shut, not abandoning the option of kicking him out, as you cross the living room towards him. Bradley frowns as you grab his arm and turn him away from you. His brows furrow slightly, now totally lost. You gasp, slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Oh. Yeah.” Bradley remembers. He chuckles softly.

Your eyes widen as your fingertips instinctively reach for the torn up skin. It’s worse than you expected. And not from sex. So clearly not from sex. Unless the lucky lady was half wood-chipper.

“What happened?” You frown.

“I fell on, well… through a glass table.” Bradley explains nonchalantly.

You wonder if this kind of thing happens to him often. Red scrapes adorn his back, but the worst of the injury is at the top of his back. Around his shoulders. He must have landed on the glass - it looks like he rolled around in it.

“Oh my god, there’s still glass in your skin.” You whisper, wincing as you reach out to examine the wound. Bradley hisses and jolts away from you as you touch it.

“There is? - Fuck, I told Phoenix it felt like there was more.”

“I’m sorry, you haven’t been to the hospital about this?”

“I hate hospitals.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek as you consider arguing with him about it. He turns towards you and cups your jaw in his hand. You frown as you notice more cuts on his palm.

“Bradley…” You sigh.

“I’ll get someone to take a look at it later. I’m fine.” He reassures you. He leans in and kisses you tenderly. As the shock wears off, you’re surprised to find how pleased you are that this is what the red marks were. He didn’t go home with someone else.

“I thought those marks were nail marks.” You admit with a scoff, shaking your head.

Bradley’s eyebrows raise. His eyes meet yours and he smiles. His hands find your hips as he tugs you into him, “Would that have made you jealous?”

You lift your chin and kiss his lips. Bradley’s eyes twinkle, smirking as you shake your head at him. Bradley presses his body against you, his fingers skimming just slightly under your shirt to graze over your bare skin.

“It would have made me kick your dumb ass out.” You answer him, pecking gently at his lips. Bradley chuckles, feeling his heart stop racing finally. He’s been worried about this all morning. Afraid that you’re still going to be upset with him for yesterday. He moves in and you push away, pressing your palms against his stomach. “Now lay down and let me take a look.”

Bradley groans, “Hyde, come on-“

“Now, Lieutenant.” You order playfully. Bradley grumbles as you leave him. He settles down on the rug in front of the couch, resting on his stomach and crossing his arms in front of him. He takes his sunglasses off and rests his forehead against his arms.

With two kids, you keep a fair amount of first aid supplies in the house at all times. You just hadn’t imagined that you would be spending your afternoon cleaning up your boyfriend. Not boyfriend. Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds quite right.

Bradley lays on his front on the rug as you straddle his hips. You shift to get comfortable, resting your ass against his. He chuckles softly as you lean forwards and kiss his back.

“I feel like you’re going to enjoy this.” Bradley mumbles. Your lips quirk up into a smile as you clean the fine tweezers with rubbing alcohol. You kiss the back of his ribs.

“How does someone fall through a table, anyway, Bradshaw?” You ask. Bradley winces, whining softly as the tweezers press into his skin. He breathes in sharply and rests his forehead against his arms.

“Jake wouldn’t stop running his mouth and - ow.” Bradley complains. You kiss his back tenderly. He relaxes. That makes it a little easier to put up with. “Pissed off the biggest guy in the bar. He was about to get his ass handed to him, so I stepped in - to try to calm things down.”

Something in Bradley’s tone tells you that his intention probably wasn’t to deescalate the situation.

“I got shoved, fell back. It was dumb. But I’m fine - fuck, ow. Really, fine.” He mutters into the crook of his elbow.

You chuckle, kissing his arm. Bradley lays there, letting you fix him up, thinking of yesterday. He might have gone out hurt and angry, but it wasn’t ever his intention to sleep with someone else.

There wouldn’t be much point. You’ve changed his perspective. He hasn’t thought of another woman since that first afternoon here. There isn’t one girl at that bar last night who could have compared.

“Stop wriggling. I’m almost done.”

He grumbles. His arms are crossed in front of him, he’s resting his chin patiently on his palms and trying not to be a baby about how much pain he’s in. He’s glad that you can’t see his face. He whines and rests his forehead against his hands as he feels you poking at his back again.

“Okay, I think I got it all.” Yeah, Phoenix said the same thing six hours ago. He’s beginning to think that one of you was just fucking with him because you like seeing him in pain. He sighs in soft relief. “Hold still, this is going to sting.”

“Hyde - wait - please - wait.” Bradley yelps as soon as the spray touches his back. You lean forwards and rest your hand against the back of his neck, wincing - your finger holds down on the cap of the spray. You coat his back haphazardly, knowing that you have to work quickly. He turns onto his side and throws you off of him in the process.

You land beside him on the rug with a soft oof.

“Fuck! That hurt worse than hitting the table.” Bradley whines as he rolls back onto his front and rests his head in his arms. You smile as you scoot closer to him. You press your lips tenderly to his elbow. It’s what’s closest to you. Your fingertips trail up the back side of his bicep and up onto his shoulders, avoiding the damage.

You scoot your body closer to his, curling yourself against his side as you press gentle kisses along his arm. Bradley turns his head towards you. He doesn’t speak, he just watches as your lips move up his bicep. Your fingers slide up from his shoulders onto the nape of his neck and take his cap off. His curls are messy, you imagine that he was too hungover to style them before heading over here this morning.

His eyes close tiredly as you massage your fingertips against the back of his head.

Your graze tentatively over the almost buzzed hair at the nape of his neck, then push up into the longer curls towards the crown of his head. He groans softly. You kiss his shoulder, pressing your body closer into his side.

“‘M gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.” Bradley mumbles into the rug.

Your lips curve up into a smile. You kiss the curve of his shoulder. “Go ahead. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

He opens one eye, lips quirking slightly into a contented smile as he settles back down and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep. You can tall when he does, his breathing shallows into a soft snore. He’s cute when he’s sleeping. He has especially long eyelashes. You haven’t noticed that before.

You aren’t by his side when he wakes up. Your absence is the first thing that he notices. He groans softly as he stretches and rolls onto his back. He presses his palms into his eyes and rubs tiredly at them. You smile slightly.

“Morning.” You say softly.

He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit. You’re on the couch with a book propped open on your knees. He pushes his fingers tiredly through his hair. Your lips quirk as you notice the pattern of the rug printed into his cheek.

“How long was I out?” He asks as he sits on his knees and tries to fix the mess of curls on top of his head. He reaches for his hat, but stops. His eyes are on your hands as you close the book and set it on the couch. They’re on your legs as you stand up from the couch. They settle on your face as you kneel in front of him.

“About an hour.” You lift your hand and trail your fingertips across his cheek. He closes his eyes as you lean in and softly kiss his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He answers, lifting his hand and cupping the side of your throat in his palm. He presses forwards and seeks your mouth against his. You smile softly as you let him kiss you. Bradley’s other arm wraps around your waist, going firm as he pulls your body under his and nudges his knee between yours.

“Wait - Rooster,”

He stops right away, brushing a strand of hair back off of your face.

“My kids play here. We can’t have sex here.” You breathe out.

He hums. Your lips part as he slips both arms under you and pulls you tight against him, pushing himself up to his feet.

“Bedroom it is.” He agrees, pressing his lips affectionately to your jaw as he starts towards the stairs. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull yourself tighter against him. Bradley fights the urge to close his eyes as you kiss at his neck, deciding that he should have both eyes open as he takes the stairs.

Beau hasn’t lifted you like this in years. It’s not that he can’t - he’s strong and capable enough to, it’s just that he won’t. Maybe this is Bradley showing off, but you’re okay with that.

He swings the door to your room shut and sets you down on the bed. You push yourself up onto your elbows.

“Take your shorts off.” You tell him.

Bradley immediately reaches for the waistband, then stops himself. You watch as he tilts his head at you.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really bossy?” He breathes out, scrunching his brows slightly. Your lips press together, then press your tongue to the inside of your cheek, raising a brow at him.

“Is that a problem, Lieutenant?”

Bradley grins as he pops open the button on the shorts, shaking his head.

“No, Ma’am.”

You laugh softly as he shoves the fabric down his legs and covers your body with his. Your hands instinctively curve onto his back, about to skim up the growing lay familiar muscles. Rooster flinches, his body still stinging from the rubbing alcohol - or whatever it was you had practically doused him in.

“Does it hurt?” You ask softly.

Rooster shakes his head, mouthing hungrily at the curve of your neck. You know he’s lying to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You mumble affectionately. He hums in agreement as he tugs your pants down your legs, lips working feverishly against your neck. He sits back just long enough to pull the fabric from your legs completely, kissing your ankle, your calf, working his way back up.

He looks up at you as he presses his lips to your navel, hands holding your hips tight. Bradley moves up and kisses your lips once, grinding his hips into your core. Rooster’s hard as a rock already, fingers squeezing eagerly into your sides.

You slide your fingers into his curls and tug gently as he mouths his way down to your core, brushing your panties to the side.

It’s growing easier and easier not to compare him to Beau. It’s growing harder and harder to pretend that he doesn’t make your head spin. Especially when he looks up from between your legs and grins like a devil after making your toes curl so hard that your legs tremble after.

“Missed you last night.” Bradley admits as you roll the condom onto his length. You look up at him and choose not to reply. Bradley reaches out and cups your face in one of his hands. He strokes his thumb over the side of your cheek. “Did you miss me?”

He watches as you bite your cheek stubbornly.

Rooster’s hands find your hips as he settles between your legs.

“No one’s gonna make fun of you if you admit that you missed me, Hyde,” Rooster teases.

You narrow your eyes at him, fingers curling around the back of his neck as you shake your head. “Fine. I missed you.”

Bradley smirks against your lips. You hum softly as he pushes into you, pressing your heel into the mattress for leverage. Bradley can’t pretend that he didn’t miss you. Not when he spent the entire night wishing you were there. He groans softly as your mouth presses warm kisses along the column of his neck.

You can’t pretend you didn’t miss him. Not when he’s here, and he’s so good, and you’re reminded of what you should have had yesterday.

You’re both panting against each other’s lips, he’s driving himself deep into you, his cock filling you in the most perfect way. His heart is thundering in his chest, so much so that you feel like you can almost hear his pulse. Rooster fucks you deep and hard, groaning your name, holding you firm against him.

Rooster’s even more certain now than he was last night that there’s no one that will ever compare.

He’s on his back, panting, thinking of having to stare at you all day on Monday. Thinking about having to keep this all to himself. He likes that no one knows he’s the only one who gets to fuck you. He likes that you missed him. That you would have been jealous if he had gone home with someone else.

You’ve been acting so nonchalant, so aloof. Especially after yesterday, when you wanted to piss Beau off. But you just confirmed everything he needed to hear.

Bradley’s asleep on his side when you come back from the bathroom. You don’t have the heart to wake him up and kick him out. His lips are parted slightly and his fingers are resting on your pillow. You slide into bed beside him, moving his arm back to his side. It drapes over your waist, he pulls you tight against his chest and hums contentedly.

You squeeze your eyes shut and sigh softly.

You wake before he does. You aren’t quite awake. Not fully dreaming either. Your head rests against Bradley’s ribs, you rise and fall with each one of his soft breaths. His arm is tucked around your waist and your legs are tangled between his.

For a moment, you don’t regret letting him stay.

Then you hear the familiar clack of heels stairs. Your brows scrunch. You think it’s sleep coming back for you, but it isn’t.

Your mother hasn’t ever been one for knocking on doors. The handle turns and the door swings open in one movement. You bolt upright, grabbing a fistful of the sheets and pulling them up to cover your bare chest.

“Sweetheart, what have I told you about leaving your phone down-“

Your sudden movement makes Rooster lurch. He sits up, propping himself up on his elbows, eyes blown wide. He groans softly, looking at you in annoyance. He has the sense to follow your gaze and gasps softly as he lands on the woman in the doorway.

Your mother looks between the two of you, her eyes land on his bare chest and she doesn’t try to hide the way that she stares. Rooster’s hand curls into the sheets, pulling them up higher on his hips. He’s suddenly very conscious of the fact that he can see his boxers on the floor.

They’re less than a foot away. They would be within arm’s reach, but he’s frozen in place. He’s certain that if he moves then this woman is going to see a lot more of him than he would like her to. The sheets are thin and white - it’s the middle of summer - Bradley looks down and pulls the sheets slightly so they aren’t as flush against his skin.

“Mom!”

Rooster swallows. The woman in the doorway does kind of look like you. He watches the way her brow raises as her eyes trail his bare chest. It’s completely shameless, the way she looks him over. He smiles sheepishly at her and pulls the sheets up higher once again. She’s impressed at the half-awake man in your bed, his messy curls and tanned muscles.

“We were calling you. Beau had an emergency at work,” Your mother explains. Your eyes go wider yet again. You move to stand up and then stop yourself, pulling the sheets up to your shoulders. “He asked me to bring the kids by - I have an appointment.”

“The kids are here?” You yelp.

Your mother looks at Rooster, then back at you and raises an eyebrow. Rooster glances back down at his boxers on the floor and considers reaching for them. He opts to stay where he is.

“Who’s this?” She asks. Bradley swallows, he shoots you a nervous glance. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to answer her. He closes it again quickly and waits for you to answer instead.

“No one. Can you just - could you get them breakfast? - I need to get him out of here.” You push your fingers through your hair, still holding the thin sheet firmly over your chest. She hums and turns, swinging the door shut behind her. You’re never going to live this down. She is going to be questioning you about this for the rest of your life if you don’t come clean now.

“No one?” Bradley questions you with a frown.

You drop down against the pillows and groan, pressing your face into the pillowcase. Bradley’s already out of bed when you lift your head. He’s tugging his shorts up his legs when he realises what he’s missing.

“My shirt’s downstairs.” He tells you.

You sigh as you push yourself out of bed and fumble around your dresser for clothes.

“Should I… grab it?”

“No!” You frown. You pull a pair of shorts up your legs as quickly as you can. Rooster nods.

He watches as you pull a shirt over your head. You turn towards him and sigh.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

“You know, if you let me take you out — you could introduce me to them. I’m good with kids.” Bradley suggests softly as you leave your room. He trails behind you, walking slowly so that his footsteps can’t be heard from downstairs.

“Please don’t start this again.” You sigh softly, pausing at the top of the stairs to check for little voices. You start down them cautiously. Rooster feels the need to cover his chest with his hands as he follows you downstairs. He frowns slightly, growing tired of being brushed off.

“Hyde. Come on.” He says quietly.

You shoot a warning look at him. He sighs as he lets you lead him downstairs. He grabs his shirt from the back of the couch on the way, wondering if your kids would have noticed it yet. They must have noticed the bronco in the driveway.

“I’ll call you.” You tell him, pushing him out onto the front steps. Bradley smiles slightly. He grabs you by your t-shirt and tugs you forwards, kissing you quickly and turning away before you can scold him for it. His back looks a little better this morning. You’re still reminded that this idiot put himself through a glass table.

You close the door and press your back to it, sighing softly.

Your mother peers out from the kitchen to check that he’s really gone. She steps out and raises an eyebrow.

“Please don’t say anything,” You sigh softly, brushing your hair back off of your face and shaking your head slightly. You lower your voice to a whisper as you get closer to her, “They weren’t supposed to be back until tonight.”

“He’s cute.” Your mother comments, lips lifting up into a smirk. She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “And those abs, wow!”

“Please don’t, I’m embarrassed enough.” You complain. You crane your neck to check that your kids aren’t listening in. They’re both happily eating cereal, watching a video on Dylan’s phone.

Your mother lets out an empathetic chuckle as she wraps her arms around you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I should have knocked,” She pats your back soothingly. You whine in complaint as you relax into her arms. You wonder if there’s any age where you’ll stop being embarrassed about your Mom walking in on you. It isn’t like she doesn’t know you’re sexually active, she adores both of your kids. “But you and Beau are separated. I’m not seeing the issue in experimenting a little?”

You scoff as you detangle yourself from her arms.

“I just… Beau would lose his mind, I think I should wait until the divorce is final.” You explain yourself, pushing your hands into the pockets of your shorts.

She shrugs her shoulders, “That could take months. Is the underwear model going to wait months?”

You can’t help but laugh at her nickname for Bradley, bringing a hand up to cover the heat rising to your cheeks. You’re glad he isn’t here for this. You know he would be adoring the compliments.

“Ugh… you think I should tell Beau?” You ask.

“Is it serious with him? - Beau doesn’t need to know if it’s just sex.” Your mother reasons with you. Dylan turns his head slightly to listen in on the conversation. You’re both talking quietly, he can barely hear it - that’s how he knows its juicy. He thinks back to the conversation you both had about respecting each other’s privacy.

He also thinks back to what his father told him. That if Beau just understood you better, if he just knew more about what was going on with you, maybe the two of you could have worked out. Dylan misses his family. Sure, he likes the new house. But he misses what he knew.

“It’s… It is. He wants to take me out on a date.” You admit to her.

She smiles, “And you don’t want to go on a date with those abs?”

“Mom.” You shoot her a playfully warning look. “I just… I don’t want to humiliate Beau. If I start dating him, people could see us, people are going to find out - Beau doesn’t deserve that. Right?”

Her brows furrow slightly, she shakes her head, “Humiliated? - I don’t follow. What, because you have a younger man? - Hell, men always get a young girlfriend after a divorce, why can’t you?”

You bite your cheek and crane your neck to check on the kids once more. Dylan focuses his attention on the video. You’re satisfied that they aren’t listening, but you lower your voice to a whisper anyway.

“He’s one of my students.” You admit. You watch your mother’s jaw drop before you.

“What?” She gasps.

“Mom.” You grab her wrist and tug her away from the kitchen. “I didn’t mean for any of this - I just - he just-“

“You should let him take you out,” She decides with a smile. Your brows scrunch, confused. “Think about it! - He’s cute and he’ll be gone in a couple of weeks, even if Beau gets his feelings hurt, the underwear model will be gone soon and Beau will get it through his head that you two are over.”

You groan softly and lean your head back. It isn’t that simple.

You’ve worked so hard to establish yourself in your career and you refuse to be reduced to the instructor who fucked one of her students.

“Live a little.” Your mother nudges you. She smirks as she turns to head back towards her grandchildren, “Just live a little when the kids are out of the house.”

You find your phone on the couch, exactly where you left it last night. Sure enough, plenty of missed calls and voicemails from both Beau and your mother.

Bradley finds your text as he arrives back at his apartment. Friday, 7pm, it’s a date. He grins to himself and slips the phone back into his shorts.

…

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