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callsign-mayhem · 1 month ago

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dancing in the dark (2/2)

This is the second half of part four of the Heartbreak Feels So Good sequel series! Find the first half here. FIND THE ORIGINAL SERIES HERE

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 10.2k (yes, you read that right.) CW: Smutty smut smut, swearing, some horror themes.

Fourth of July weekend. No work. A massive lake house. The dagger squad have never felt so lucky. As for Bradley, he's wondering if he'll finally GET lucky...

LAKE HOUSE MOODBOARD Later that night, once the fire had burned out and everyone was truly and utterly exhausted from the day’s excitement, it was time for bed. At last. The room you’d be sharing with Bradley was at the back of the second floor. It was the largest of the bedrooms, with a balcony overlooking the garden and lake beyond, and its own en suite bathroom. The bed was a comically large Alaskan king, big enough for you, Bradley and half of your squad. You stood by the door, awestruck by the beautiful room you were lucky enough to call your own, at least for the weekend.

‘Want me to run you a bath?’ Bradley asked, breaking the blissful silence.

You released a quiet breath. ‘That sounds heavenly.’

He disappeared into the bathroom, and the sound of running water filled the space. You closed the bedroom door, locked it for good measure (Phoenix’s words from earlier still ringing in your head) and unzipped your weekend bag. Buried underneath various-sized packing cubes was the selection of lingerie you’d purchased especially for this occasion. The sight of the delicate fabric caused unwanted memories to surface, and you were powerless to stop the torturous supercut that played in your head—buying underwear just like this for Elijah at the start of your relationship, agonising over which colour to get, putting it on under your clothes one night, him not even noticing. The embarrassment you felt when you tried making it more obvious, and the rejection of him glancing your way and ignoring you. The sickening shame that had washed over you when you’d gone to the bathroom and taken it all off, changing into comfy pyjamas and stuffing the garment right into the bottom of your laundry basket.

This had happened more than once. After a few times, you’d given up.

With Elijah, sex wasn’t beautiful. He never made you feel like a Goddess, never spiced things up or tried to make you come. When you initiated, he called you a pest. It was always on his terms and almost always from behind, like he couldn’t bear to look at your face. And afterwards, he’d lay back and go on his phone without a word, leaving you to clean up. No cuddles, affection, nothing—it was like a business transaction.

These memories almost made you give up on your whole plan. You had to sit on the floor in front of your bag and make a mental list of reasons why it wouldn’t be like that with Bradley. For starters, he wasn’t a total asshole. He was caring, kind, attentive and loving. Plus, he was completely besotted with you.

As you wrapped your chosen underwear set in your towel and headed to the bathroom, you repeated, it’s gonna be fine in your head like some kind of mantra. The bathroom was full of aromatic steam. Was it vanilla? You couldn’t tell. A selection of bath products—oils, salts, bath bombs and bubble bars—was displayed on a laddered shelf next to the radiator. The large, free-standing tub was in the middle of the room, and taking up the whole left side was a spacious waterfall shower, all adorned in white marble. The bathroom had probably cost more to build than your entire apartment.

‘Woah.’ You breathed.

Bradley, who was perched on the edge of the tub, nodded. ‘I know. It’s insane.’

‘I could live in this bathroom!’ You exclaimed.

‘It’s like something out of a home design magazine. I was scared to even touch anything, in case I ruined it.’ He smiled sheepishly.

You set your towel and wash bag down on the edge of the his-and-hers sinks and went over to Bradley. He leaned forward and rested his head against your stomach; you began tracing small circles on the back of his neck. He sighed contentedly. His skin was still warm from a day in the sun, and you noticed that his freckles were more pronounced. You wanted to kiss every single one, and you knew he’d let you if you asked. You could ask him to do almost anything, and he would say yes—a fact that scared you. You weren’t used to having so much power in a relationship. If you were any other sort of person, things could get very toxic very fast.

Luckily, you were you.

When your bath was full, Bradley turned off the water and went to take his leave. Feeling suddenly confident and overcome with the desire to be near him, you grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes widened with sudden understanding as you pulled him close, lifting the hem of his loose-fitting tank top. Wordlessly, he let you take it off him, exposing all those glorious, tanned muscles.

You only had a pair of shorts over your bikini, no shirt for him to lift dramatically. His fingers went to the button of said shorts, and he undid it swiftly, along with the zipper. Even the simple act of him pulling your shorts down your legs was enough to make you feel undeniably sexy. You took turns removing pieces of clothing from the other person in slow, tantalising motions. This was another thing you hadn’t experienced with Elijah—foreplay. Foreplay was arguably the best part of sex, and the word wasn’t in your ex’s vocabulary. You pulled Bradley’s swim shorts down without breaking eye contact. He did the same with your bikini bottoms; there was only your bra left. With one hand, he reached around the back of your neck and undid the knot, letting the garment fall away.

You were bare in front of each other at last.

Neither of you looked. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, inching closer until you were chest-to-chest. Nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of skin-on-skin contact with Bradley Bradshaw. You released a shaky breath as he broke the kiss.

‘Bath’s getting cold.’ He said hoarsely.

‘Mhm.’

There was no more avoiding it. You would have to look at one another to get into the bath. You turned around—assuming that Bradley would take the chance to drink you in—and climbed into the bathtub as gracefully as you could manage. Then, you turned to look at him as he made to follow.

To put it frankly, he was hung. What other word was there?

You swallowed a delicious groan at the thought of him slipping inside you.

All in good time.

From the start, Bradley set out to make your relationship everything you’d never had: safe, full of love, respectful, and deliciously sexy. You deserved to be treated like the goddess you were, and this was part of that. Your head lolled forward as he massaged bath oil into your shoulders; he could feel your muscles loosen with every circle he rubbed.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected to join you when he offered to run you a bubble bath, but he couldn’t be happier with the outcome. He’d been following your lead in the spirit of not rushing you and letting things unfold at a natural pace. Sure, it had started to feel impossible, but he would never let his impatience get in the way and make you uncomfortable, not when the two of you had come so far. You were a baby deer, and he had to be careful not to scare you off.

The water was getting cold, and as lovely as the bath was, the two of you were—in a way—stalling. You’d been building up to this moment for so long that even looking upon your naked body had been hard. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to or because you weren’t beautiful. You were ethereal. It was more that he’d wanted this for so long, imagined it so vividly, that now, with you finally laid bare for him, he almost didn’t want to touch you. Like he might shatter the moment, or worse, wake up from it. ‘Shall I get your towel, sweetheart?’ He asked softly.

You sighed dreamily. ‘Please.’

Bradley climbed out of the bath, dripping water all over the floor. First, he wrapped his own towel around his waist. Yours was neatly folded by the sink, your untouched toiletry bag on top. Why bother using what you’d brought when the place was better stocked than a Bath and Body Works? He set the bag to the side and unfolded your towel. Something fell to the floor, and he bent over to pick it up.

Lavender. Silk. Lace.

For a split second, his mind didn’t quite catch up with his eyes. He only stared, watching the delicate lingerie pool against the tiles like it had been made of water instead of fabric. Sheer panels traced with swirling embroidery, satin ribbons tied into neat little bows, and garter straps meant for hands far less reverent than his.

His throat tightened. You’d hidden it from him. You’d planned to surprise him, probably after your bath. He could picture you stepping out of the steam, skin still damp, slipping into the lavender set with that shy, wicked little look you got when you were up to something. You would’ve come back into the bedroom, all soft smiles and coy glances, watching him fall apart with one sweep of his eyes.

And now? Now it was in his hands.

His fingers ran over the lace at the waist, where the fabric dipped into a teasing cut-out, tied with a tiny satin bow. He couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel beneath his palms—how you would feel beneath his palms. He dragged his thumb over the sheer mesh, feeling its delicate resistance and knowing he was already holding it far too tightly.

He glanced toward the bath. You were still half-hidden beneath the water, eyes closed, oblivious to the way he was staring at the slip of fabric like it might unravel in his grip. He considered tossing it back into the towel and pretending he hadn’t seen it—letting you have your surprise.

But God, he couldn’t. He didn’t even realise he was moving until he was already beside you, towel and lace and all. When you cracked one eye open, your lips parting with a question he didn’t let you finish, he let the lavender lingerie slip from his fingers and onto the rim of the tub.

‘Forget the towel,’ he rasped, voice rough with want. ‘Put this on for me.’

You stared at him, blinking once, twice—barely processing the words he’d just spoken. The delicate lilac lace sat in a crumpled heap on the edge of the tub, the satin ribbons still clinging to the curve of his fingers like they didn’t want to let go. Neither did he.

Your breath caught.

You should’ve said something, made a teasing remark or at least pretended to be unaffected, but you couldn’t. Not when his eyes were pinned to you with that dark, unwavering focus. Like you were something precious. Like he’d been waiting his whole life for you to climb out of that water and give yourself to him.

He was still crouched beside the tub, his forearm braced against the edge, shoulders broad and tense, his knuckles ghosting the lace. He was so close you could smell the faint trace of body wash still clinging to his skin—a soft, creamy sweetness that made your stomach tighten. ‘Bradley…’ Your voice came out thinner than you intended, almost uncertain. But he didn’t let you finish. His hand was already trailing down, slipping into the water, wrapping around your slick calf. Slowly, he dragged his palm upward, the roughness of it a contrast against your skin, making the heat in your chest drop lower. His fingers pressed just hard enough for you to feel the calluses along his fingertips; a reminder of how much he worked with his hands. You exhaled sharply when his touch slid higher, brushing along the bend of your knee. That’s when he leaned in—slowly, almost reverently—until his lips grazed your bare shoulder. Soft. Deliberate. He stayed there for a moment, breath fanning over your skin, before his mouth opened against you. Teeth scraping just faintly, almost like he was testing the waters. Almost like he was asking for permission. ‘You don’t have to put it on,’ he murmured against your shoulder, voice low and wrecked with want. ‘Since I’m just gonna be taking it off you.’ You didn’t realise you’d grabbed his wrist until you felt your own knuckles tightening over the damp skin. Your heart was practically in your throat, fluttering wildly against your ribs, but your fingers were already curling around his, tugging him closer. ‘Help me out of the bath first.’ You breathed, words barely a whisper. He was on his feet before you finished the sentence.

The water sloshed gently as you shifted, reaching for the towel with one hand, but Bradley was already there. He caught your wrists, stilling you. His eyes—honey-brown and heavy-lidded—locked onto yours as he took the towel from you, but he didn’t wrap it around you. No, he draped it over his shoulder instead. Out of the way. Then he leaned down, one arm sliding beneath your thighs, the other steadying your back. And just like that, he lifted you from the water—effortlessly—like you weighed nothing. Water slicked down your skin, dripping from your legs, but he didn’t care. He just held you against his chest, damp and dripping, eyes dark with pure, unbridled lust. He carried you the three short steps to the counter and sat you down on the edge, your thighs parting slightly, instinctively, making him exhale a sharp breath through his nose. For a moment, he just looked at you. Really looked at you. Like he still couldn’t believe you were real. Then, with one hand still braced against the counter, he reached for the lilac lingerie and slowly dragged it down your thigh. His knuckles brushed along the wet skin he’d just bathed, and you could feel the faint tremor in his fingers. ‘Maybe I should put it on you after all,’ he murmured, voice low and hoarse. ‘Let me admire you a little first.’ You whimpered audibly. This was not how you’d planned this moment, but you weren’t exactly mad about the way things were unfolding. The lingerie was supposed to be a surprise, and at first, you were disappointed that he’d found it. But this? This was better than your original plan.

Bradley kept one hand firm against your thigh, keeping you steady where you sat on the edge of the counter, while his other hand snagged the towel from his shoulder. He pressed it to your skin without a word, starting at your knee and dragging it upward in slow, steady strokes. He was thorough and deliberate, like he wasn’t just drying you off but memorising you. His palm followed the path of the towel, heat chasing after the soft fabric, spreading warmth along the goosebumps on your skin. You didn’t mean to shiver when he swept the towel over the delicate bend of your knee, but you did. His eyes flicked up, catching yours, and his lips twitched slightly—barely there—before he smoothed the towel down the length of your calf, wrapping his hand around the back of it. ‘Cold?’ He murmured, voice lower than a second ago. You shook your head slightly, pulse fluttering somewhere between your throat and the base of your spine. He smirked faintly, like he knew. Slowly, he lifted your foot off the counter, cradling your ankle in one hand, while the other dragged the towel between your toes—slow, gentle passes that were probably unnecessary but lingered anyway. And God, it was almost too much. The way he touched you—casual but devout, like he had no intention of rushing. Like he could do this all night. Once your legs were dry, he shifted his focus, leaning in slightly. The towel dragged along your inner thighs—firm but careful—his knuckles brushing higher with every pass, slow and unrushed. You sucked in a breath when the fabric skimmed a little too close, but he only stilled, eyes darkening slightly, before continuing upward.

His warm, broad hands slid to your waist. He spread the towel over your stomach, his fingers pressing through the fabric, gliding across your skin in a lingering, absentminded caress that made your breath hitch. But then he was leaning closer, mouth brushing just beneath your ear. ‘Arms up for me, honey.’ He murmured, voice rough and low. You obeyed before you even realised it, lifting your arms above your head. He took his time dragging the towel upward, catching the droplets of water still clinging to your skin. The movement was too slow, like he was deliberately avoiding the task at hand just to keep his fingers on you a little longer. And then finally, the towel was discarded, tossed carelessly over the edge of the counter. His eyes raked over you—skin still dewy and flushed, hair damp and clinging to your shoulders—and something flickered across his face. Hunger. Awe. Possession. All tangled up in one ragged breath. Without looking away, he grabbed the lilac lingerie from where he’d left it, letting the fabric spill over his fingers like it belonged there. ‘Let me.’ He rasped softly. You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. You just sat perfectly still as he eased the delicate panties up your legs, one at a time. His fingers were warm against your ankles, then your calves, then higher. And when he reached your thighs, he didn’t stop—he kept going, dragging the lace into place with both hands, knuckles skimming the sensitive skin where the fabric hugged you close. Once they were settled, he let out a slow breath, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name. Something that made you feel like your skin was too tight. Then he reached for the top. He held it open, waiting for you to slip your arms through the delicate straps. His fingers grazed your shoulders as he guided the lace into place, trailing the garters along the curve of your waist. Once the fabric was snug against you, he carefully—so carefully—smoothed the straps, adjusting them just right. And God, he was still looking at you. Brows furrowed slightly, lips parted, eyes drinking you in. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered softly, voice almost a whisper. His thumb brushed over one of the lilac bows, right at the centre of your sternum. ‘You’re so goddamn pretty.’ You could’ve died right there and then, and you wouldn’t have been mad about it. At least you’d have died happy. Bradley’s towel was still around his waist. Your eyes flitted towards it, and before you could lose your nerve, you pulled it away teasingly, letting it drop to the floor. You didn’t think his pupils could dilate any more, but they did. That move seemed to be his final straw, because he lifted you effortlessly from the counter. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you through to the bedroom, where he set you down gently at the end of the bed. ‘You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?’

You laughed. ‘Jesus, Bradley, if we stopped now, I think I’d scream.’ He smirked knowingly as he lay you down and climbed on top of you. His face was mere inches from yours when he said: ‘You’re gonna be screaming either way.’ He didn’t give you time to respond. He pressed one, delicate kiss to your lips before trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck, chest, and the tops of your breasts. His hands were everywhere; you could’ve come from this feeling alone. Slowly, he moved lower, pushing you further up the bed with his hands on the backs of your thighs. The realisation that he was about to eat you out was enough to make you groan with anticipation. He hadn’t even touched you where you needed him most yet, and you were already a fucking mess. With anyone else (Elijah), you would have been embarrassed by your desires, the way you were overcome with pleasure, but you didn’t have to feel like that with Bradley. You couldn’t have, even if you’d tried. With him, succumbing to your pleasure and your emotions was automatic, which was exactly how it was supposed to be. Real love didn’t have you second-guessing every word you said, every move you made or every luscious, pleasurable moan.

Real love forced you to surrender, and surrender you would. You reached behind you for a pillow to prop yourself up on, because you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna watch him at work. He pressed hot kisses up your thighs, and when he reached your clothed core, he pressed one there, too. Aching didn’t begin to describe the feeling in the bottom of your stomach. He looped his fingers around the crotch of your panties and pulled them to the side, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you, soaking and ready for him. Then, he licked one long stripe up your centre, from bottom to top, and your eyes disappeared into the back of your head. So much for watching, was your final thought before being plunged into the depths of heaven. He licked and sucked and eventually, he slid two fingers inside of you. You couldn’t even compare it to an out-of-body experience. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You’d never been more present inside your skin; it almost felt too good to bear. Your whole body quivered as you got closer and closer to the edge. ‘S-stop.’ You stammered. ‘I wanna come at the same time.’ Bradley pulled his head back, but didn’t remove his fingers. You managed to open your eyes, and the sight you saw was enough to wreck you. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes and your juices slicked around his mouth and in his moustache—there were not enough words in the English language to describe what this did to you. ‘You say that like this is gonna be the only time you come tonight.’ He said huskily. And with that, he went back to work, and your head tipped back onto the pillow as you cried out in ecstasy.

Bradley was taking his sweet time with you. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, and he wanted to savour every second of it. And he wanted you to do the same. When you came on his tongue—hips bucking and walls tightening around his fingers—the dull throbbing in his cock intensified in such a way he had never experienced before. The last thing he wanted to do during this moment was think about his past sexual encounters, but he couldn’t help but briefly think that nobody had ever made him feel the way you did. He hadn’t even been inside of you yet, and he was pussy-whipped. If that made him cringe, then so be it. You were still trembling when he moved back up your body, kissing every inch of skin he passed because he couldn’t bear to leave any part of you untouched. Your breath caught when his lips grazed the curve of your stomach, then your ribs, then the centre of your chest—each kiss slower than the last, as he tried to calm the storm he’d just created in you. When he finally reached your face, he paused. Hovered. Your lips were parted, your cheeks flushed, and your pupils were so blown it was hard to tell where the colour ended and the black began. You cupped his jaw, your thumb brushing over the damp curve of his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered closed for a second—just one—and when they opened again, he leaned down to kiss you.

It was soft. Warm. Slow. He was letting you taste what he’d just done to you. He wanted to share it with you. And when he pulled back—just far enough to look into your eyes again—his voice was barely more than a whisper as he asked: ‘Are you ready, baby?’ ‘Yes.’ You breathed. He braced himself above you, one hand pressed into the mattress by your hip, the other trailing down the length of your thigh. His fingers flexed slightly as they moved—featherlight, almost uncertain—like he couldn’t quite convince himself that he was allowed to touch you like this. Like he was afraid he might wake up if he did. His biceps quivered faintly from holding himself up—and holding himself together. His eyes traced every inch of you—the swell of your thighs where they parted just slightly beneath him, the curve of your waist wrapped in lilac lace, the soft rise and fall of your chest. But it was your face that unravelled him completely. The way you stared up at him—soft, expectant, open—like you were giving yourself to him without hesitation. Without fear. He swallowed hard. ‘You sure?’ He murmured, voice low and rough at the edges, nearly breaking on the words. His forehead dipped just enough for his lips to brush over yours, barely a kiss—just a breath of contact. ‘You can still change your mind.’ You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you slid your hands up his arms, fingers mapping over the taut muscles that were trembling slightly beneath your touch. You reached his shoulders, then his neck, then finally cupped his jaw, tilting his face until he was looking at you again. And then you whispered, soft but certain: ‘Take me.’ Bradley’s eyes slammed shut. He exhaled sharply—almost a curse, almost a plea—and suddenly, he was kissing you. Properly. Deeply. Desperately. His mouth slanted over yours with a low, broken sound at the back of his throat. He’d been starving for you. He kept one hand firm on your thigh, squeezing just enough for you to feel the tension in his palm, while the other slid beneath your lower back, tugging you closer—needing you closer. You let out a quiet whimper against his mouth, making him groan softly in response. Suddenly, his restraint snapped. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He dragged his lips from your mouth, trailing them along your jaw, down your throat, open and hot, teeth scraping faintly when he reached your collarbone. He pulled a sharp breath through his nose, like he was trying to steady himself, but failing miserably. ‘God, you’re so fucking soft,’ he rasped against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. His teeth caught the strap of your lingerie and dragged it slightly off your shoulder. ‘So goddamn perfect.’ His hand skimmed along your ribs, brushing the delicate boning of the corset, pausing just over your heart. His thumb swept idly over the lace there, right where he could feel the frantic pulse beneath your skin. ‘Jesus.’ His breath hitched faintly. ‘You’re shaking, baby.’ You were. You hadn’t even noticed. Your thighs were trembling faintly around his waist, your fingers tightening in his hair like you were holding on for dear life. But so was he. You slid your hands down his back—nails grazing lightly over muscle—and he was sure you could feel it all. The slight tremor in his arms. The tension in his thighs where he kept himself braced above you, not daring to let his weight sink into you just yet. He still wanted to be careful with you. ‘Bradley,’ you murmured softly, fingers tugging at his hair, guiding his face back to yours. Your lips grazed his, soft and slow, your voice barely a whisper against his mouth. ‘You don’t have to hold back.’

He stilled for a beat, like he needed to let the words settle into his chest, then he exhaled sharply and kissed you so deeply—so hungrily—that it made your head spin. Neither of you registered the sound of lace tearing as his hands slid down your thighs, yanking the garters away. You gasped softly into his mouth, but Bradley didn’t stop. He kissed the sound right from your lips, breathing against you like he was trying to pull the air from your lungs. ‘I need you.’ He rasped, voice weak with want. You barely had time to respond before he shifted, one strong hand sliding beneath your thigh, guiding it around his waist. His forehead pressed to yours, breaths shallow and uneven, and then— He sank into you. Your eyes fluttered shut on a sharp gasp, and Bradley’s mouth was right there to catch it, pressing into yours. ‘Fuck.’ He breathed against your lips, voice low and shaky, brow pressing to yours as he stilled, giving you a moment. His jaw went tight, the muscle feathering as he exhaled slowly through his nose, trying to stay still, to be patient, even as his hands were trembling slightly where they gripped your thighs.

He kissed your temple softly, soothingly, voice breaking slightly as he rasped: ‘Okay?’ You nodded. ‘Okay.’ And then he moved.

Slow. Deliberate. Measured. He kissed you through it—every sigh, every whimper, every sharp inhale that left your lips. His mouth brushed your cheek, your jaw, your throat—soft, scattered murmurs of your name slipping through his teeth like a prayer. ‘You feel so good.’ He whispered roughly into your skin, voice breathless and uneven, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to commit the sensation of you to memory. You had been right to assume that your expectations of sex with Bradley Bradshaw would never live up to the real thing. It was far from the transactional experiences you’d had in the past; it was so sensual and full of love—you hadn’t even known that sex could feel this good. The romance movies that made such a huge deal out of the act now made sense to you, as you felt much like an actress starring in one. And the best part? You knew Bradley felt it, too. There was something about knowing how much he was enjoying it that made it all the more special for you. Bradley was still on top, and you were already close to coming undone again. He had one of your legs thrown over the crook of his elbow as a way of getting in deeper, and you saw stardust with every thrust. He’d already eaten you out, and now this? You wanted to do something for him before the night was out. ‘B-bradley.’ You stammered. ‘Stop a sec.’ His brow furrowed, panic setting in as he did as you asked. ‘What’s wrong, baby?’ ‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You quickly assured him. ‘I wanna swap.’ You panted. He raised a brow. ‘Oh, really?’ ‘Yes.’ Reluctantly, he pulled out of you. The sound, which ordinarily would have embarrassed you, was a testament to how much he aroused you. He lay down, pulling you on top of him rather unceremoniously, causing both of you to giggle. If there was one thing you knew to be true, it was that being able to laugh during sex was the pinnacle of a healthy relationship. If you thought he looked good above you, seeing him underneath you was something else entirely. The way he looked up at you, like he was worshipping you, was an image you doubted you’d ever be able to get out of your head. Which was fine by you, because why would you want to forget? ‘You’re so handsome.’ You told him, awestruck. He smiled, pussy-drunk and relaxed. ‘And you’re gorgeous.’

Before you could get too pulled out of the moment, you grabbed his dick and lined it up with your entrance, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to feel. Turns out, nothing could have prepared you, which seemed to be a running theme tonight and served as a lesson not to make assumptions about Bradley Bradshaw. You sank down on his impressive length, letting out a resounding groan that definitely echoed through the walls. That was a problem for the morning. Right now, you were focusing on how different he felt from this angle, how much fuller it made you feel. You leaned forward ever so slightly, and if you weren’t mistaken, you could feel the tip of him pressing against the inside of you. Bradley’s hands flew to your hips, keeping you still. ‘I need to move.’ You told him. He nodded frantically. He was just as floored by the feeling as you were. It didn’t take you long to find a rhythm. Pretty soon, you were bouncing like your life depended on it. Bradley didn’t let go of your hips, but occasionally his hands moved to your ass, presumably to feel it shaking as you rode him. Until now, you hadn’t thought it possible for a man to make such delicious sounds. Neither of you was going to last much longer; that much was true. Your orgasm built up in the base of your stomach. When Bradley grabbed your hips harder and started thrusting up into you, you were a goner. And with the most unholy, filthy string of curse words you’d ever heard come out of his mouth, Bradley came too. You leaned forward to kiss him, lying flat on his heaving chest to catch your breath. After a beat or two, you felt his come begin to trickle down your legs. ‘Fucking hell.’ You breathed. ‘Yeah. Fucking hell.’ He echoed. ‘Looks like we’re gonna need another bath.’ You laughed. ‘How about we test that shower?’ After taking longer than you probably should in the shower, the two of you changed into pyjamas and climbed into the humongous bed. Bradley opened his arms so you could cuddle into him, and you did so more than willingly. It was nearing 2 am, but your mind was running wild with thoughts of the evening. Memories flashed through your mind as you willed yourself to sleep. Bradley must have assumed you were asleep because there was no way he was expecting a response. Not with the softness of his whispered words. But you would’ve had to have been dead to have missed it… ‘I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.’ After a beat, you decided to let him know you had heard. ‘I love you too, Bradley Bradshaw.’

The next morning, you awoke to sunlight and fresh air streaming in through the open balcony doors. When you rolled over, you were shocked and disappointed to find Bradley’s side of the bed cold. Of course, he could’ve been out of reach, what with the bed being as big as the Bronco, but upon opening your eyes, you discovered you were alone in the bedroom. After adjusting to the light, you clambered out of bed and grabbed Bradley’s sweatshirt from the top of his weekend bag. You also grabbed a pair of fluffy socks from your own bag. After a quick check in the mirror, you realised you needed to freshen up before heading downstairs, as—to put it frankly—your hair looked like a rat’s nest. By the time you made it downstairs, a whole breakfast spread had been laid out on the kitchen island. Your stomach grumbled audibly, suddenly alerting you to how hungry you were after the previous night’s activities. ‘There she is!’ Mickey exclaimed happily. He skipped over to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. When you noticed his Garfield pyjamas, you felt a massive smile spread across your face. ‘Guess I escaped the cooking duties this morning, huh?’ Nat and Jake were plating up warm cinnamon rolls, while Bradley danced around them trying to get a pot of coffee going. Reuben and Bob were finishing up the main course—eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns, all the fixings—while Javy sliced up a loaf of sourdough bread. ‘We guessed you needed to catch up on beauty sleep.’ Mickey murmured. ‘You know, since you were up pretty late last night.’ You must have flushed every shade of scarlet in that moment. Luckily, nobody else had heard Mickey, and if they’d heard anything else, ie moaning and groaning the night before, they didn’t let on. Not that you weren’t expecting to get the third degree from Nat later, but at least for now, things seemed normal and peaceful. Well, as normal and peaceful as things could be in a house full of Daggers. ‘Well, grab a plate.’ Bob announced. ‘We can eat outside.’ You let everyone else go first, since you’d risen so late. Bradley hung back, too, presenting you with a huge iced coffee, topped with whipped cream. ‘Thank you.’ You beamed. ‘Sweet nectar, save me.’ You told the drink. Bradley chuckled, kissing the top of your head. ‘How’re you feeling this morning?’ After a quick glance around to make sure nobody was within earshot, you said: ‘Legs are a little sore, but other than I’m positively glowing.’ ‘You look it, too.’ He smirked. ‘Guess it’s all that vitamin D.’ You burst out laughing, and Bradley snaked an arm around your waist to pull you closer. ‘Why don’t you go sit outside? I’ll bring you a plate.’ ‘You sure?’ ‘Yeah.’ You kissed his cheek. ‘You’re an angel.’

After a delicious breakfast in the sunshine, everybody headed back upstairs to get ready for the day ahead. Jake had mentioned an overlook the night before, and he had challenged the squad to hike it. Last one to reach the top had to cook dinner. You and Bradley walked together, hands brushing occasionally as you made your way out of the house. As you stepped out into the bright light of the day, the cool morning air greeted you, and you felt your heart settle with a quiet contentment. Amid all the teasing, the laughter, and the endless back-and-forth with your squad, you realised how lucky you were to have these people by your side, especially Bradley. It was moments like this, walking through the woods with the squad behind you and Bradley beside you, that made everything feel right. As the group set off on the trail, laughing and pushing each other forward, you stayed close to Bradley, sharing quiet moments only the two of you understood. You couldn’t wait for the rest of the day, knowing that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together. The hike was everything you’d hoped it would be—refreshing, a little challenging, and filled with laughter as the squad made their way up the trail. The sun was high in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the forest, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot and birds chirping creating a peaceful background to the banter that filled the air. Bradley kept close to you, his hand brushing yours occasionally, sharing quiet smiles when no one else was looking. It felt like the world outside the woods had faded away, and there was only the squad, the trees, and the feeling of being together. Every so often, you’d hear Reuben’s loud voice or Nat’s teasing remarks, but they only seemed to heighten the comfort of the day. When you finally reached the top, the view was worth every step. The city below looked small, nestled between the mountains, with the ocean in the distance sparkling in the sunlight. Everyone stopped to catch their breath, standing at the edge of the overlook, taking in the beauty of it all. Reuben let out a low whistle. ‘Man, this is incredible. I don’t know how you managed to find this spot, Bagman, but I’m impressed.’ Bradley leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke softly. ‘You okay?’ He asked, his voice a mix of concern and affection. You nodded, your hand slipping into his as you squeezed it gently. ‘Yeah, just taking it all in,’ you said, giving him a soft smile. ‘It’s perfect.’ He smiled back, pulling you in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. ‘I’m glad you’re happy.’ He murmured. ‘Who came last?’ Javy asked. ‘We didn’t keep track.’ Mickey shrugged. ‘No idea.’ ‘I’ll make dinner.’ You said. ‘Consider it my apology for not helping with breakfast this morning.’ Bradley smirked, and you had to look anywhere else to avoid flushing a deep shade of red again.

Back at the lake house, everybody settled into different activities for the afternoon. Jake and Reuben headed out to the other side of the lake for some fishing—Mickey ended up going with them, as he’d never tried it before. Nat seemed tempted to go too, at first, but when she realised it wouldn’t just be her and Jake, she came up with a clever excuse not to go. Nobody else noticed except for you, and you knew you had to talk to her about this at some point. Bob grabbed his book and a bottle of water and set himself up on one of the comfier seats on the back porch. He probably wouldn’t be moving for the foreseeable future, and he seemed happy at the prospect of reading for hours with no other obligations. After Nat had her “very important phone call with her parents that she couldn’t miss”, she and Javy found a cupboard full of board games. Javy was overjoyed when he found ‘The Game of Life,’ and he and Nat set it up on a blanket on the lawn. That left you and Bradley. You’d prepped dinner for that evening, so when everyone was ready, you’d only have to get it out of the oven: slow-roasted chicken and vegetables, potatoes and homemade gravy, which would have to wait until the meat was cooked so you could add the juices. Bradley had watched you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. ‘What do you say we go for a swim?’ He asked. After a long hike in the summer heat, that sounded like a perfect idea. ‘I say hell yeah.’ Bradley changed into swim trunks and then helped you change into a pretty yellow bikini. It involved strings that needed to be tied into bows to keep the bra from falling down, and he was all too happy to help. For the second time in the last 24 hours, he threw a towel over his shoulder, and even though it was a small thing, it was starting to have certain connotations. Unexpectedly, he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, one hand conveniently coming to rest on your ass. ‘Roo, what are you doing!’ You squealed. You felt his laugh rumble through his body as you clung to him for dear life. He carried you past Bob, Javy and Nat, all of whom didn’t even bat an eye. They were used to your shennanigans by now, and they weren’t fazed. In hindsight, you should’ve known that he was going to throw you in the lake. The water was cool, but not cold. The sun had been gradually heating it all day, and it was just right. You surfaced and pushed your hair out of your face just as Bradley cannonballed in, splashing you and soaking you even more. He paddled over to you and pulled you close. Beneath the glistening water, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and his hands came to rest on the backs of your thighs. A slow, gentle kiss was shared, and even though both of you tasted like lake water, it felt like a dream.

Popcorn popped in the incredibly fancy microwave that only Bob could figure out how to use. Cocoa simmered in a pot on the stove despite the warm evening, because no movie night was complete without it. With the help of Bradley, you’d laid out a spread of junk food on the low coffee table in front of the fireplace and set up what could only be described as a nest. He’d dragged the large mattress and bedding from your shared room and had laid it out between the C-shaped sofa. It seemed criminal to be spending the night inside when the weather was so lovely, but the squad had decided that after a long day outdoors, a movie night was a must. You’d chosen the movie. When you’d suggested ‘The Ritual,’ you’d received mixed reactions from the Daggers. Jake and Javy were very much in the camp of ‘horror movies don’t affect me,’ while Mickey and Bradley seemed to have their reservations. Nat was indifferent, although you assumed this was a front, Reuben outright protested the idea (but backed down when Jake called him chicken), and Bob had launched into a speech about the statistics surrounding people who find horror movies relaxing. ‘Women aged 18–35 make up one of the largest demographics of horror movie watchers. Final girls supporting final girls, you know?’ You were excited. You’d heard of the film but hadn’t gotten around to watching it yet; the book was also sitting on your shelf, unread. As most normal people would agree, it would’ve been better to read the book first, but as a fighter pilot, there wasn’t always time for leisurely reading. When Bob came down from changing into comfy clothes, he grabbed the popcorn from the microwave and helped Bradley serve the cocoa. You found the movie on Netflix and put it on pause while everyone got settled. Mickey came down in Rick and Morty pyjamas, which for some reason seemed very on brand for him. His face lit up when he saw the nest situation. ‘No way you guys made a fort!’ He exclaimed. ‘It has no roof, Fanboy.’ You said, smiling. ‘It’s half a fort.’ ‘Half a fort is better than no fort, in my opinion. I call dibs.’ ‘You’ll be sharing with me and Bradley, then.’ He threw himself rather unceremoniously onto the mattress and nestled up underneath the duvet. ‘Fine by me. As long as there’s no funny business.’ You and Bradley locked eyes from across the room, both of you smirking like idiots. Mickey was too absorbed in the act of getting comfortable to notice, but Bob, as usual, clocked it. He made a show of slamming the microwave really hard, startling you and Bradley from your shared stupor. He covered a laugh with a fake cough, and you felt your cheeks heat up. Luckily, you were spared from any further embarrassment when Nat came crashing down the staircase, Jake close behind with his cupped hands out in front of him. ‘Rooster!’ She squealed, literally throwing herself behind him and using him as a shield. ‘He’s got a fucking spider!’ Bradley stumbled, nearly falling over from the sheer force of Nat pulling him in front of her. Jake had been running so fast to keep up with her that he smashed right into Bradley, who let out a surprised ‘oof.’ You and Mickey watched the whole thing with anticipation, while Bob had removed himself from the situation entirely, opting to bring the popcorn over to the coffee table. In the commotion, the spider had fallen on the floor. When Nat eventually realised this, she paled and jumped onto Bradley’s back. He just about managed to catch her before both of them toppled over. Jake was laughing manically in the corner, doubled over with his hands on the tops of his thighs.

At some point during this debacle, Reuben and Javy had appeared in the kitchen/living area. After a short survey of the situation, Reuben did the sensible thing and scooped the spider up, gently releasing it outside and closing the patio door. Now that it was safe for her to do so, Nat climbed off Bradley’s back and smoothed her hair down. ‘Fucking hell.’ She breathed. Bradley smacked Jake around the back of the head. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Hangman?’ ‘Sorry,’ he wheezed. ‘I just couldn’t miss an opportunity like that. Who knew the big, bad Phoenix was scared of spiders?’ She huffed, storming over to the couch. ‘Well, now you all know. Congratulations.’ From your spot on the mattress, you turned around and laid your hand on her leg. ‘Don’t worry, Nix. We’ll get him back.’ She smiled. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah, he’s started something now.’ ‘Sorry for using Bradley as my personal shield turned jungle gym.’ You laughed. ‘It’s okay. If you can’t do that, what’s the point in having a tall friend?’ It was finally time to settle in for the movie.

To set the mood, Javy pulled all the blinds and turned off all the lights, so except for the TV screen, you were in total darkness. He took his place between Reuben and Jake. Bob was sitting in one of the sofa’s corners, and Nat was perched right on the end, as far away from Jake as physically possible. Despite this, she kept throwing glances his way, as though she hated it but wanted to prove a point. Very interesting indeed. You were in the middle of Bradley and Mickey, sharing a bag of Reeses. As the plot began to thicken, Bradley was doing that thing where he pretended to be casual, but his posture was already a bit too straight, like he was bracing himself. ‘This is nothing.’ Jake scoffed as the four main characters decided to take a shortcut through the looming Swedish woodland. ‘I’ve seen scarier stuff on late-night infomercials.’ ‘And in the mirror, too, I’d imagine.’ Nat grumbled, not looking away from the screen. It started slow—just eerie woods and grief-fueled tension—but the vibe in the room shifted fast. Javy stopped heckling entirely around the time the weird markings on the trees showed up. ‘I don’t like that.’ He muttered under his breath. ‘Bro, it’s just trees.’ Reuben said, but his voice cracked ever so slightly. You glanced down—he had the blanket pulled up halfway over his face already, eyes peeking through a narrow gap. Mickey squealed—squealed—when the creature first made a sound offscreen, and that was it. The pillow went straight over his head like it could protect him from the Nordic horror lurking in the trees. ‘Jesus!’ Jake hissed when something flashed across the screen. ‘What the hell was that? That was—nope. Nah. Mid. This movie’s mid.’ You didn’t miss how he edged slightly closer to Bob, though. And you definitely didn’t miss how Bob didn’t move an inch, expression eerily calm, sipping his soda like he was watching a nature documentary.

You, on the other hand? You were tense, too. Not terrified, but uncomfortable in that delicious, itchy way a good horror movie gets under your skin. You weren’t about to admit it, of course. But you also weren’t moving from your spot against Bradley’s side. And he was wound tighter than a coiled spring. Arms crossed. Jaw locked. You could see the muscle in his cheek twitching every time something creaked onscreen. Then came the jump scare. You flinched. It was instinct. Your whole body jolted, and in response, Bradley jumped so hard that when his arm flew out to steady himself, he accidentally smacked the popcorn bowl right out of Reuben’s lap. ‘Shit!’ Reuben shouted, popcorn flying everywhere. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart.’ Bradley said automatically, voice an octave too low. ‘I got you.’ You turned your head. Raised an eyebrow.

‘Coming from the man who just jumped out of his skin.’ As the movie progressed, things only got more unsettling. Phoenix, entirely unaffected, leaned over and whispered ‘Did you hear that?’ right into your ear. You shuddered, and Bradley squeezed your arm reassuringly. She smiled like the devil herself. ‘Y’all are the worst.’ Reuben grumbled, tugging the blanket up over his head like a kid. ‘This is why I don’t do horror.’ Bob finally spoke for the first time since the movie started. He leaned forward, glanced around at everyone’s slightly panicked faces, and said: 'Statistically, this kind of disappearance happens more often than you think. Especially in Northern Europe.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘…What the hell, Bob?’ Jake said.

When the movie was over and everyone had gone to bed, positively terrified, you texted Nat to meet you in the living room. Bradley was sound asleep, and the rest of the house was silent, so it was now or never. It was late, and you were exhausted. The two of you worked quickly, phone torches on, scouring the garden for branches which you quickly tied together with a ball of wool from a basket by the fireplace. Then, you hung them from the trees closest to the house. Not too many, just enough to be off-putting. With the final little symbol you’d made, you headed back upstairs, creeping quietly into Jake’s room. Nat wanted to do the honours after the spider fiasco. She tucked it underneath his pillow, leaving the end sticking out slightly so he’d definitely find it. And then the two of you headed to bed, excited to see everyone’s reactions the next morning. You were not disappointed.

The sound of Jake’s panicked voice floated up the staircase and roused you from sleep. You blinked, the previous night's events slowly coming back to you. When you went to climb out of bed, Bradley tried to stop you, grumbling incoherently. As much as you wanted to stay in bed and cuddle, you wanted to see Jake’s reaction more. Nat was already downstairs when you arrived, wrapped up in one of Bradley’s hoodies. She was sitting on top of the kitchen island, feet up on one of the stools. Bob leaned against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee with a sly grin on his face. Jake, Mickey, and Reuben were outside, glaring at the twigs you and Nat had hung from the trees, worry etched into all of their features. The symbol Nat had put under Jake’s pillow hung loosely from his hand, and he was paler than you’d ever seen him. When they saw you and Nat, they came back inside. ‘What the fuck?’ Jake hissed, waving the creepy offering in Nat’s face. ‘You think this is funny?’ She shrugged, doing a very good job of appearing unbothered. ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘This. I know you put this in my room while I was sleeping.’ ‘And how do you know that?’ Jake narrowed his eyes. ‘Come on, darlin’. I know you’re looking to get me back after last night.’ Mickey had his arms folded and kept glancing out at the trees. The rising panic in Jake’s voice led you to believe that they weren’t entirely convinced that this was a prank. Clearly, some part of them believed that this was really happening. ‘Okay, I swear one of them just moved.’ Mickey said. Reuben rolled his eyes. ‘It’s probably the wind, Fanboy.’ Although it sounded like he was saying it to convince himself, not his friend. ‘I was inside all night.’ Nat explained. ‘I think you’ll find I was asleep before all of you.’ She gestured at the adorned trees. ‘Why would I play around with something like this?’ Jake looked at you, eyes narrowed. ‘What about you?’ He asked. ‘What about me?’ You replied innocently, plucking a grape from the bowl on the table. ‘Don’t play dumb.’ ‘I’m not playing.’ You smiled sweetly. ‘I’m naturally gifted.’ Jake mimicked your smile snarkily. Nat jumped in, tilting her head like she was genuinely confused. ‘So, you’re saying you woke up with a pagan twig doll under your pillow, and you think Y/N and I put it there to scare you?’ Jake held the thing out like it had personally threatened his life. ‘It was poking into my neck!’ ‘Okay, but I’m serious. That one out there.’ He pointed frantically. ‘It was facing the other way before. Maybe we opened some kind of portal by watching that movie.’ Nat squinted at it. ‘Maybe it turned to look at you.’ She gave him a slow, creepy blink. ‘Or maybe we angered the spirits in the woods.’ You offered. By this point, Bradley and Javy had shuffled into the kitchen, still groggy from sleep. Mickey had started to pace. ‘What’s going on?’ Bradley grumbled, grabbing you and pulling you close. ‘We summoned a demon.’ Mickey said regretfully. Bradley rolled his eyes and reached for a coffee mug. You immediately missed the contact and had to resist the urge to attach yourself to him like a baby koala bear. You doubted Jake would ever let you live that down, demon or no. Javy had been halfway through a banana when Reuben grabbed his upper arm and led him out into the garden to show him the ‘creepy little twig people.’ This seemed to intrigue Bradley, who obviously hadn’t expected there to be actual evidence to support Mickey’s claim. He looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded, doing your best to look scared. Everyone but you and Nat headed back outside. ‘This is going much better than I expected!’ You whispered excitedly. Nat smirked. ‘That’s because we have the most gullible squad in history.’

About an hour later, the group had mostly dispersed—some out to the lake for a swim, some hovering on the porch, trying to convince themselves that creepy twig art wasn’t a reason to pack up and drive back early. You were curled up in a blanket on the couch, nursing a second cup of coffee, when you heard a faint, ‘Uh… guys?’ Bob’s voice. From the hallway. Everyone groaned. ‘What now?’ Jake muttered, clearly on edge. Bob didn’t answer. He just called again, quieter this time: ‘No, seriously… guys…’ You and Nat exchanged a look and got up. Bob stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, eyes fixed on the windowsill in the front room. At first, you couldn’t figure out what he was staring at. Then you saw it. A small, weathered animal skull was perched neatly on the sill. Clean. White. Facing into the house. No one spoke for a second. ‘That wasn’t there this morning,’ Mickey said finally, voice a full octave higher than usual. ‘Right? Right?’ Nat moved closer, squinting. ‘What the fuck,’ she muttered. ‘That is… not funny.’ ‘Okay,’ Jake said, hands in the air like he was diffusing a bomb. ‘I swear to God if this is part of the prank—’ ‘I didn’t do that.’ Nat sounded genuinely spooked now. Her voice had dropped, no teasing lilt, no playful denial. Reuben walked in behind you, took one look, and immediately backed up two steps. ‘Nope. Nope nope nope.’ You leaned in a little closer to inspect it. There was something tied around one of the horn stubs—thread. Almost the exact shade of the wool you’d used for the twig symbols. Nat noticed it at the same moment you did. ‘That’s not ours.’ She whispered. You turned to her, eyes wide. ‘We didn’t do that.’ From across the room, Bob finally spoke. ‘…Weird.’ And that was it. Just ‘weird.’ You turned to him slowly. He took a sip of coffee. Completely unreadable. ‘Bob.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Do you know something?’ He shrugged. ‘Do any of us really know anything?’ Reuben groaned. ‘I’m going to hide under my duvet.’

After one last dinner (an amalgamation of leftovers from the weekend), you changed into a pretty, blue bikini. Bradley pulled the lid off the hot tub, which was the biggest one you’d ever seen, and uncorked a bottle of cheap (ish) champagne. Nat, Jake, Reuben and Javy also wanted a dip. Mickey and Bob were in the middle of a rather intense game of ‘The Game of Life.’ A song you didn’t know played on the overhead speakers, something Javy had chosen. You tipped your head back and marvelled at the night sky. Out here, the sky felt close enough to touch and large enough to be slightly terrifying, but you could see yourself getting used to it. You imagined living somewhere like this permanently. It made your soul ache for simpler things, things you’d never expected to ache for until now: love in its purest, most unadulterated form, family, joy, laughter. It made all your dreams of being the best female fighter pilot in history feel almost small by comparison. This—these people, this family—was what really mattered. It mattered more than legacy or glory. ‘This has been the best weekend ever.’ You said, smiling warmly. Bradley, who had his arm around you, squeezed your arm. ‘It really has.’ ‘It’s gonna be hard going back to reality.’ Reuben said with a sigh. Javy asked if anyone had heard anything about a possible new training programme, and the squad melted into conversation. You were half listening, mostly paying attention to the way Jake was gazing at Nat as she spoke. He was sitting next to her, not even trying to hide the fact that he was obviously craning his neck just to look at her. Curioser and curioser, you thought. At some point, you’d have to bring it up with Nat. She was your best friend, after all, and you got the sense that she wasn’t going to come to you with it. It was Hangman. For the rest of the evening, you just chilled. You were all in and out of the hot tub, playing games like Cards Against Humanity, and polishing off the three bottles of champagne. Really, it was a perfect end to the perfect weekend, and you hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you got to experience it again.

Your final memory of the trip took place the next morning. Aside from your first time with Bradley, it was perhaps the highlight of the whole weekend. You, Nat and Bob were drinking coffee in the kitchen, waiting for everyone to finish packing their things, when Jake’s shrill scream echoed throughout the entire house. Truly, you’d never heard anything like it. You could hear panicked footsteps across the floorboards above you as Javy and Reuben bounded into Jake’s room. You and Nat blinked in shock. ‘WHO THE FUCK PUT THE SKULL IN MY SUITCASE?!’ Jake yelled. You shared a look with Nat before turning to Bob. He was smirking into his coffee, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A/N: Finally, the second half of Dancing In The Dark! I'm sorry it took so long! I have to write when I'm in the mood, and life has been busy. I hope you guys enjoy this nonetheless, I'm sorry about the word count... Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @alwayshave-faith @rosedurin @impossibleblizzardstudentposts @crowdedimagines @sadgirlgiselle @sleepy-writersblock @honey-and-bi @lovelyygirl18 @my-therapist-hates-me @primroseluna @eloquentdreamer @sgt-barnesveins @daybleedsintonightfa11

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callsign-mayhem · 2 months ago

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I love the Christian reader ask! I'd be much more dramatic though lol. "Oh Lord bring him back" -big hug- "and protect him from bad food" 🙏 "Jesus protect my love...and his moustache, for they are joined... at the lip."

I’m happy you loved it!

That’s is so iconic, I wish I’d thought of that🙈 I will remember that line later on and laugh, and everyone at work will look at me like I’m insane 😂

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callsign-mayhem · 2 months ago

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Wow, thank you so much. I’m so glad my writing healed something within you. That’s the highest compliment any writer could receive. Sending lots and lots of love to you❤️

How about a Christian!reader praying for Bradley before every flight? (Only if you are comfortable tho)

the way home (b.b)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Christian!Reader Word count: 1.6k CW: None, really. But if you're uncomfortable reading about Christianity, this one probably isn't for you.

A/N: Thank you, Anonymous, for your lovely request. My grandma is a Christian, and although I don't follow the religion anymore, it holds a very special place in my heart. I grew up very close to her, and I wrote the prayers in this fic based on things I remember her saying and ways she used to phrase things. Forgive me if this isn't accurate, but I truly did my best.

Your faith was one thing you had never been quiet about. Why would you when it was your guiding light and life force? People tended to be loud about the things they loved, and you loved the Lord with every fibre of your being, all the breath in your lungs, and every step you took. Your faith could move mountains. It was worth shouting from the rooftops about. You loved Bradley Bradshaw, too. It was a different sort of love, especially since he was not a man of God, but you were just as loud about it. If your faith in God could move mountains, your faith in Bradley could power the fighter jet he flew for the rest of time. He could do a lap of the Earth with your love as fuel, and it would be more than enough to get him home to you. Bradley had always known about your closeness to Jesus. You’d met at a charity fundraiser for your local church, where the Dagger Squad had raised a tidy sum auctioning dates with pilots. You had been manning the baked goods table. You weren’t supposed to be watching—but of course you were watching. Everyone was watching. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw stood on the tiny wooden stage looking more uncomfortable than a cat in a bathtub. He scratched the back of his neck while Jake—of course it had been Jake—held the mic and narrated his life like it was a game show.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, and anyone else with eyeballs,’ Jake had drawled. ‘Next up, we have the one, the only, Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw! He cooks, he sings, he flies jets, and rumour has it his moustache alone has healed at least three broken hearts—’ Bradley had looked like he wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole. You had wanted to laugh. Or hide. Or scream. ‘Bidding starts at twenty dollars for a lunch date,’ Jake continued. ‘And he’s even promised not to talk about planes the entire time!’ You’d turned back to the table and definitely hadn’t peeked through the croissants at him. You also definitely hadn’t felt your heart trip over itself when he caught your eye across the churchyard and gave you a sheepish, crooked little smile. And then you'd heard Jake say, ‘Sold! To the young lady in the blue dress with the chocolate chip muffin tray!’ You’d blinked, totally dumbfounded as everyone turned to peek at the aforementioned lady in the blue dress. The rational part of you had wanted to call out that there had been some kind of mistake, but you found that you had gone momentarily mute. The rest, as they say, was history. Long picnics at the beach watching the sunset over the water while sipping on homemade lemonade, swimming in the pool atop your apartment complex, Sunday morning trips to the farmer’s market, late night browsing at the bookstore, road trips in the Bronco…it had been pretty perfect so far. You didn’t believe in jinxing things, so it was fine to say so. Bradley had come into your life at the exact right moment, in the exact right way, and you truly believed that Jesus had put him there Himself. You felt that this relationship was part of the bigger plan He had for you, and although you weren’t privy to it, you trusted that it would work out exactly the way it was supposed to.

You’d been dating for just over a month the first time you prayed over Bradley. He was set to go on a short recon mission, two weeks max, and you’d driven him to base so you could say one final goodbye. When you pulled up, you hadn’t thought twice.

You’d turned to face him and taken both of his hands in yours, closing your eyes as you always did when you said a prayer.

‘Lord, I ask that you watch over Bradley on his mission. Go ahead of him and remove any obstacles placed by the enemy that might get in his way. Set angels to guard his plane, and the rest of his amazing squad, who are doing their duty to protect us. I plead the blood of Jesus over Bradley today. I ask You to cover him from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. Keep him safe in the skies, guide his hands, and calm his heart. Bring him home the same way you always do—whole, steady, and wrapped in your mercy. In Jesus’ name, amen.’

Upon opening your eyes, Bradley had been gazing at you with such intense admiration that it had been hard to meet his eye.

‘Thank you.’ He’d said, voice husky with what could have only been tears. ‘Nobody has ever prayed for me before.’

‘Well, I do, all the time. You just didn’t know it.’

Fast forward a few more months, and it was part of your daily routine. Even on normal days when he was just going to base for training or teaching, you said a prayer together over breakfast. On the mornings you spent the night apart, you’d send him a voicenote.

This morning just so happened to be the morning of a mission. He’d be gone at least a month, and you weren’t happy at the prospect. As much as you were comfortable being alone—after all, you were never truly lonely—you’d grown accustomed to seeing him every day. It was hard to imagine not enjoying picnics by the ocean or little Sunday outings together for a whole month, if not longer. But if that was God’s will, then so be it. And as much as you would miss him, you were a firm believer that distance made the heart grow fonder.

Bradley’s bag was packed and waiting by the door with his freshly-polished combat boots, courtesy of you. The two of you sat at his kitchen table, picking at some eggs on toast. Your stomachs weren’t really on board with breakfast.

He grabbed your hand across the table, startling you out of your stupor.

‘Hey, we’re forgetting something.’ He said, sounding slightly panicked.

You smiled reassuringly. ‘I haven’t forgotten, don’t worry.’ You gestured to his breakfast plate. ‘Try to eat a little more.’

Bradley’s shoulders sagged as he relaxed somewhat. After picking at his food a little more, he got up to scrape his plate and put it in the dishwasher. In socked feet, he padded back over to the table and collected your plate, too. No matter how many times you saw him in uniform, it never lost its novelty.

You took his hand and led him over to the couch, which was still littered with blankets and throw pillows from your movie night. He sat down beside you, still holding both your hands. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before beginning your prayer.

‘Lord, I plead the blood of Jesus over Bradley.’

Your voice wavered, just slightly. But your hands stayed steady, pressed against his chest like you could anchor him here with just your touch.

‘Cover him from head to toe, from the inside out. Guard his heart, guard his mind. Guard the aircraft that carries him and the people who fly beside him. Be the breath in his lungs and the calm in his hands. Go before him, stand behind him, and walk beside him in every mile he flies.’

Your fingers curled in the fabric of his flight suit.

‘I trust You with him, Lord. I trust You, even when I’m scared. Even when I want to run down that runway and keep him from leaving. But I know you go where I can’t. You see what I don’t. So I place him in Your hands again—because they’re stronger than mine.’

You paused. Took a breath.

‘Bring him back to me, God.’ Your voice was soft now. Barely more than a whisper. ‘Whole. Safe. And soon. In Jesus’ name, amen.’ You barely had time to whisper amen before Bradley reached for you.

He didn’t say anything—not at first. Just leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, like he was memorising the shape of your presence. Like if he stayed there long enough, he might be able to carry the echo of your heartbeat with him all the way through the sky.

His hands settled at your waist. Yours stayed fisted in his flight suit, clinging like your prayers hadn’t quite finished yet.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ he murmured, voice thick. ‘But I’m damn sure coming back to you.’

You kissed him, slowly and reverently.

‘You do deserve me, Bradley. Ten times over. I’m so proud to be your girlfriend, and so thankful that I’m the one you fight to come home to.’

And you knew without a doubt that you would tell him over and over again until he believed it.

Because you were not one to be silent about the ones you loved—the ones you had faith in. And although it would be a long time before you knew it, Bradley whispered your prayers in the cockpit, thousands of miles above the land. He prayed for his safety, the safety of his crew, the success of the mission and that he would get home in one piece.

But most of all, he prayed for you. He prayed that you wouldn’t worry too much about him, that you were happy and well, and that the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit—whoever was out there listening—would really hear him when he asked to remain with you forever.

And when he touched ground after his mission, he prayed that you hadn’t found the engagement ring hidden at the bottom of his wardrobe.

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callsign-mayhem · 2 months ago

Note

How about a Christian!reader praying for Bradley before every flight? (Only if you are comfortable tho)

the way home (b.b)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Christian!Reader Word count: 1.6k CW: None, really. But if you're uncomfortable reading about Christianity, this one probably isn't for you.

You’d turned to face him and taken both of his hands in yours, closing your eyes as you always did when you said a prayer.

Upon opening your eyes, Bradley had been gazing at you with such intense admiration that it had been hard to meet his eye.

‘Thank you.’ He’d said, voice husky with what could have only been tears. ‘Nobody has ever prayed for me before.’

‘Well, I do, all the time. You just didn’t know it.’

He grabbed your hand across the table, startling you out of your stupor.

‘Hey, we’re forgetting something.’ He said, sounding slightly panicked.

You smiled reassuringly. ‘I haven’t forgotten, don’t worry.’ You gestured to his breakfast plate. ‘Try to eat a little more.’

‘Lord, I plead the blood of Jesus over Bradley.’

Your voice wavered, just slightly. But your hands stayed steady, pressed against his chest like you could anchor him here with just your touch.

Your fingers curled in the fabric of his flight suit.

You paused. Took a breath.

His hands settled at your waist. Yours stayed fisted in his flight suit, clinging like your prayers hadn’t quite finished yet.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ he murmured, voice thick. ‘But I’m damn sure coming back to you.’

You kissed him, slowly and reverently.

‘You do deserve me, Bradley. Ten times over. I’m so proud to be your girlfriend, and so thankful that I’m the one you fight to come home to.’

And you knew without a doubt that you would tell him over and over again until he believed it.

And when he touched ground after his mission, he prayed that you hadn’t found the engagement ring hidden at the bottom of his wardrobe.

#bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley bradshaw one shot

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

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Rest easy, Val <3

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

Text

dancing in the dark (1/2)

Part four of the Heartbreak Feels So Good sequel series!

FIND THE ORIGINAL SERIES HERE

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 4.8k CW: Allusions to smut, swearing, use of Y/N

Fourth of July weekend. No work. A massive lake house. The Dagger Squad have never felt so lucky. As for Bradley, he's wondering if he'll finally get lucky...

By the grace of the Almighty and whatever guardian angels looked over you, the Dagger Squad was granted a four-day weekend for the Fourth of July. Provided there were no emergencies, of course. A group trip had been on the cards for a while now, but it was almost impossible to plan anything with your busy and often unpredictable schedules. So, when Maverick mentioned the possibility of a long weekend, everyone was excited but hadn’t gotten their hopes up. The countless occasions where you’d been called in or sent on a mission during your downtime, paired with the many disappointments you’d faced during your last relationship had forced you to adopt an ‘expect nothing and you won’t be disappointed’ mindset.

The fact that you’d mentally prepared yourself to be let down only made it all the more exciting. The week before, the squad had gathered at Nat’s to plan the trip. You couldn’t go too far in case something did happen, and since you lived by the beach, it made sense to go somewhere different.

Reuben had been the one to find the lake house. Situated in Escondido, Dixon Lake was surrounded by lush woodland and hiking trails. A few houses were dotted around, but the one Reuben had found was quite literally to die for. Plus, it was big enough for the whole squad.

Without hesitation, he’d made a reservation, and that was that.

Now, it was Friday. You were just pulling up to the house and feeling good. In fact, ‘good’ was probably the year's biggest understatement.

The morning fog still clung to the trees as the Dagger Squad’s convoy of cars pulled off the main road and into the private drive leading up to the house. The sound of gravel crunching under the tyres was the only thing breaking the stillness of the early morning. Bradley’s hand rested comfortably on the steering wheel of his Bronco, the low rumble of the engine punctuating the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Beside him, you gazed out of the window, the green of the trees and the towering pines reflecting in your eyes. It was peaceful—an escape from everything.

You hadn’t realised how badly you needed this until the moment you arrived.

‘Almost there.’ Bradley said, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of excitement that didn’t go unnoticed.

You nodded, glancing over at him with a smile. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally here,’ you murmured, reaching over to squeeze his hand. ‘This place looks amazing.’

Bradley’s lips quirked up into a grin, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. ‘It’s better than anything we’re used to, that’s for sure.’ His gaze flickered toward the rearview mirror, where Fanboy’s car was trailing close behind. ‘They’re gonna love it.’

When you finally pulled up to the house, the size of it was jaw-dropping. The cabin was tucked away in the woods, surrounded by towering trees that felt like they were protecting the place. Large windows gleamed in the soft morning light, and the stone and wood exterior looked like something out of a magazine. Even the driveway had a feeling of grandeur.

‘Is this real?’ Fanboy’s voice rang out from behind you, followed by the sound of his car door slamming shut. ‘This is definitely the real deal.’ Javy exclaimed, gawking at the house.

The squad started to unload, everyone laughing and bantering as they took in the scene. There was an air of excitement, as if this trip could offer a moment of peace for everyone—something most of them never really had. Bradley stayed close by your side as the group trickled inside, ensuring you were settled and comfortable. He had such a reassuring presence—one that made everything feel okay. You smiled up at him, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying lift just a little. The cabin was filled with laughter, teasing, and the sound of bags being dropped on the floor as everyone settled in. But despite the chaos around you, all you could focus on was Bradley. He was nearby, keeping an eye on you, the steadiest presence in the room. He always had a way of doing that—making you feel like everything was going to be okay.

It was even better now that the whole squad knew about your relationship. Something about sharing it with them made it even sweeter.

Jake had only returned from deployment last week, and the novelty had yet to wear off. His mission had ended rather abruptly—in the end, it had only lasted just over six months. Nobody but Jake, the other pilots on the mission, and the powers that be knew why, and it had to stay that way. The squad knew better than to press their friend for details.

Nobody cared about the details; they were ecstatic that Jake was home.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, notes app open on your phone. The group were shouting out different items to add to the shopping list. A group of the smartest, strongest pilots in the entire world, and nobody had thought to bring any food. It was laughable. Luckily, there was a Trader Joe’s in Vista, only 30 minutes away.

‘Oooh, you gotta get stuff for smores!’ Mickey said excitedly. ‘There’s a fire pit!’ You added giant marshmallows, Graham crackers, and chocolate to your list, as well as an eye-roll emoji next to it for good measure.

‘Anything else?’

The list was already long, but at least it was thorough. Nobody wanted to leave the lake house for the rest of the weekend unless it was to swim or hike.

‘Best to get some booze.’ Jake said with a smirk. ‘Yeah, of all the things we forgot, I can’t believe we forgot that.’ You remarked.

After finalising the list, it was decided that you and Nat would go and get the groceries. Javy said that sending the two of you was the safest option since men in a grocery store with a list that long couldn’t possibly end well. It was a rather sexist remark, but you had to agree.

‘Bobby, we’re taking your truck.’ You said.

Nat had ridden with Bob, and you weren’t allowed to take the Bronco (it didn’t matter how much Bradley loved you; you weren’t allowed to drive it), so it only made sense. Bob handed over the keys with a wince, and Nat rolled her eyes.

‘Relax, Floyd. I’m a good driver.’ She told him.

After instructing the guys to take the bags upstairs and set up the back porch and fire pit, you and Nat headed out. The fog lifted as the sun climbed higher in the sky, and it would be a scorcher—all the better for relaxing and drinking by the lake.

As you and Nat backed out of the driveway, you fiddled with the aux so you could play your music.

‘I can’t believe this is finally happening.’ Nat said excitedly. ‘Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming!’ You did as instructed, and she squealed. ‘Hey!’ ‘What?’ You asked, hands up in defence. ‘You told me to!’ ‘I didn’t think you would do it!’ ‘Well, at least you know it’s real.’ You grinned, earning you a world-famous Trace eye roll. You managed to get your music going, and every now and then, Nat would put in a request. Neither of you could remember a day feeling so full of possibilities—and not the kind of possibilities you were used to at work. ‘So, we haven’t caught up properly in a while.’ She said as she slowed for a stop sign. ‘What do you mean?’ You asked, brows furrowed. ‘We see each other every day.’ ‘Yeah, but we’re always surrounded by men, and Bradshaw has glued himself to your hip this last couple of weeks. Is he ovulating?’ You burst out laughing. ‘He’s not that clingy!’ You insisted. ‘Oh yes he is. In the spirit of being best friends and nothing being TMI, I need to know. Have you finally put out?’ Even a subtle mention of sex with Bradley Bradshaw was enough to have you squirming in your seat. Truthfully, you hadn’t gone all the way yet. You’d been close, for sure, but despite what Nat said about you being stuck to one another, you’d been taking things relatively slow. Proper dates, goodnight kisses, and the occasional sleepover—the key word being sleep—since that’s all you did. Bradley was a gentleman, and you’d spent the last couple of years tied to a toxic narcissist who liked to use sex as a weapon. ‘Not yet.’ You admitted. Nat knew all about your relationship with Viper, which was why you knew she wouldn’t judge you. Your friendships had been put on the back burner while you were with him, but that didn’t mean she had no clue what was happening. Plus, since he’d ended things, you’d gradually told her awful, embarrassing truths that you’d kept buried to save your dignity and to save Viper from going apeshit. Because if you’d told her while you were still with him, she definitely would have said something, and it would’ve come back on you. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t want to kick his ass even now that you were broken up, but she knew that it would only set you back in your healing journey. ‘Has everything been okay with you two? He hasn’t pressured you or anything?’ Obviously, she knew the answer to this already, but she liked to be thorough. ‘No, of course he hasn’t. Everything has been so perfect that I’m scared to fuck it up. I haven’t been with anyone other than Viper in so long, and towards the end of our relationship, we stopped having sex. So, I’m a little out of practice.’ ‘And you think Bradley is gonna care?’ ‘No, but I want it to be good for him. And if it’s not, what if he changes his mind?’ Nat actually laughed. Like, loudly. ‘Y/N, Bradley Bradshaw would set the entire world on fire just to show you the light. That is not something you should be worrying about.’ She patted your leg reassuringly. ‘Besides, he hasn’t exactly been sluttin’ it up the past couple of years.’ The thought of him sleeping around made you wince. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Because I know him, and we talk. He’s not that kind of guy, especially not since he fell in love with you.’ You knew Bradley had loved you a long time, but you didn’t have an exact time frame. Also, you hadn’t actually said those three words to each other yet. He was following your lead so as not to spook you, and saying ‘I love you’ was another thing that terrified you. It was comforting to know that he would be out of practice, too. The GPS said you weren’t far from Trader Joe’s, but you had to ask Nat one more question. Her advice had never led you astray before. ‘Do you think it should happen this weekend?’ ‘If you’re ready. You’ll both be relaxed, somewhere different where there are no expectations. Just make sure you lock your door, and that your room isn’t anywhere near mine.’

Back at the lake house, chaos had erupted. Really, it should have been expected. As payback for his sexist remark earlier that morning, you sent Javy out to get the shopping. ‘That’s a man’s job,’ You’d said pleasantly. ‘So, off you go.’ Mickey had figured out that the house was decked out with a state-of-the-art sound system, with speakers in the ceiling throughout the entire house that could be controlled from an app. As he downloaded it, he was vibrating with excitement.

The iconic guitar riff from ‘Sugar We’re Goin’ Down’ by Fall Out Boy filled the house, and most of the squad groaned in unison. Mickey was a sucker for emo music, amongst other things, including gaming soundtracks that he said made him feel powerful. Out of all the things he could have picked, you were happy with his choice. Naturally, Jake was the first to complain. ‘Fanboy, I swear to God, if I have to listen to another teenage angst anthem—’ Mickey cranked the volume louder. ‘YOU CAN’T STOP THE MUSIC, SERESIN!’ He yelled. You shared a knowing look with Nat. ‘This is definitely going to be a weekend to remember.’ She said. Bradley helped put the shopping away, making a point of brushing up against you every chance he got. Your conversation with Nat sat heavily in your mind, and suddenly, every touch and lingering glance felt loaded. Bradley didn’t have a clue what you’d decided in the car—how could he? But it was as if he could sense that you’d made up your mind and that an irrevocable shift had taken place. Silently, you thanked your past self for packing pretty underwear. With everything set up, there was nothing left to do but relax. What a beautiful prospect: nothing ahead of you but chill time, a few drinks, some good food and a swim in the lake.

Reuben, Javy and Bob decided to check out a nearby fishing spot. It said online that you could rent gear, so off they went with backpacks full of snacks and instructions from you to return by dinner.

The house’s garden was just as spectacular as the house itself. A back porch complete with Adirondack chairs and fairy lights, a sprawling, sloping lawn, a fire pit, and an extended, wooden dock that went out into the lake. To top it off, the area was surrounded by lush trees and blooming summer flowers. The late afternoon sun had dipped below the tree line, so you and Nat had moved your reclining sunbeds to the end of the dock where there was no shade—any further off the edge, and you’d have fallen in the water. You were reading a tattered, old Stephen King novel that you’d been trying to finish for months, and Nat was reading Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger. When Jake had seen it, he’d raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t think you need any tips in that department, Phoenix. You should be the one writing the damn book.’ That comment had earned him a smack around the back of the head. Bradley, Jake and Mickey were sprawled out on sun loungers at the end of the lawn, facing the lake. Mickey had AirPods in, Jake was scrolling on his phone, and Bradley was staring at the back of your head.

When you’d come downstairs in a little bikini printed with cherries, heart-shaped sunglasses and a cover-up that wasn’t doing a very good job of covering things up, he’d damn near passed out. Now, he hoped that you'd feel his gaze if he stared long enough. Seeing you in that scandalous bikini was the closest he’d come to seeing you naked, and he couldn’t distract himself no matter what he tried. ‘You’re gonna burn holes in the back of her head, man.’ Jake mused. Bradley rolled his eyes behind his aviators. ‘No idea what you’re talkin’ about.’ He replied. Mickey took an AirPod out. ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Nothing.’ Bradley said. At the same time, Jake said: ‘Rooster’s horny for Y/CS.’ Mickey grinned. ‘No shit.’ Bradley hoped neither of them noticed the heat creeping up his neck. ‘Hangman’s full of crap.’ Jake tilted his beer bottle towards Bradley. ‘Dude, you’ve literally been eye-fucking her for the past ten minutes.’ Mickey wiggled his eyebrows, still grinning like an absolute fool. ‘What’s stopping you from doing it for real? She’s your girl. Nobody’s in the house right now.’ It would’ve been super convenient if a hole could’ve opened up in the ground and swallowed Bradley, but he doubted he’d have such luck. ‘Not your business.’ Bradley snapped. Mickey narrowed his eyes, slowly putting two and two together. ‘Oh my God,’ he groaned, leaning back in his chair. ‘You're telling me all this time—after the way you look at her—you two haven’t—?’ Jake whistled lowly. Bradley wanted to punch him. He glared at them both. ‘I swear to God, if you don’t shut up—’ Jake leaned back, smug as hell. ‘No wonder you look like you're about to explode.’

Bradley was about to explode, but now it was from anger as well as pent-up sexual tension.

‘Do either of you know when to shut the fuck up?’ Bradley growled. Jake laughed. ‘Have you been reading Nat’s book?’ Jake was saved from another smack around the back of the head by you and Nat standing up. All three guys watched in amazement as you stretched, and Nat tied her hair up in a messy bun. Bradley glanced at Jake, who was staring at Nat the same way he had just been staring at you. Interesting. He filed that one away for later. The two of you sashayed up the dock, sun-kissed and shimmering with tanning oil—apparently the best way to get a tan. To Bradley, it just sounded like a fast track to melanoma, but damn if it didn’t make you look even more like a goddess. When you reached them, Bradley had to make a conscious effort to keep his mouth closed. Mickey was practically drooling, which pissed Bradley off to no end. Now he was really aggravated. What would happen if he grabbed your arm and dragged you upstairs? Would you go for it, or would it end awkwardly? The two of you had been taking things slow, but just lately, he’d been thinking that if you went any slower, you’d stop. He needed you, needed to take this next step in your relationship like he needed to breathe air to survive, but he would never push you. Many close calls had ended with him alone, breathless and spent in the shower, imagining what it would have been like if things had carried on. ‘We’re gonna make some pre-dinner cocktails.’ You announced. ‘You handsome men need anything from inside?’ Subconsciously, Bradley knew you were speaking. He knew your mouth was moving, and words were coming out, but all he could concentrate on was the miles and miles of tanned skin in front of him. Apparently, the other two were in the same boat because your question was answered with total silence. You and Nat shared one of your knowing looks. ‘Hello?’ Nat said, lightly nudging Jake’s sun lounger with her foot. ‘The lights are on, but nobody’s home.’ Jake blinked behind his sunglasses. ‘I’ll take a Texas mule.’ He said effortlessly, as if he hadn’t been on another planet. ‘What the fuck is that? Isn’t it a Moscow mule?’ Nat replied. ‘You make it with bourbon instead of vodka.’ He explained. ‘No, you do. You’re fussy as hell and I don’t want you complaining when I make it and it’s not how you like it.’ Jake flashed a grin. ‘Want me to come with?’ ‘Yeah. You can carry everything out for us.’ ‘Oh, can I?’ He teased. ‘Maybe if you say ‘please.’’ ‘Please, can you get off your ass and do something useful for once? Thank you.’ Jake followed Nat to the house, leaving you with the other two. ‘Anyone else?’ You asked, eyes planted firmly on your boyfriend. Mickey’s eyes flicked between you, although you didn’t notice. ‘I’m gonna go help those two, make sure they don’t kill each other.’ When he was halfway up the lawn, Bradley scooted to the end of his sun lounger and grabbed your leg, pulling you into his lap. You squealed in shock, which soon turned to giggles when he began peppering your neck and collarbones with gentle kisses. ‘What are you doing?’ You giggled. ‘I wanted a cocktail.’ It took all his willpower, but he managed to refrain from making an extremely inappropriate comment. ‘And I wanted a kiss. So there.’ You smiled down at him. He captured your lips in a kiss that started soft, but gradually got more heated. You were on top of him, basically naked, and he was in nothing but swim shorts. The sensation of your warm, bare skin against his made him feel like he’d already drunk multiple cocktails. When his cock started stiffening beneath you, you smirked against his lips, kissed him once more and stood up. The loss of your touch was almost too much to bear. ‘Later.’ You whispered. ‘I have a surprise for you.’ You winked seductively, and his cock twitched.

Bradley and Jake had taken charge of the barbecue after spending ten minutes arguing over who had the best skills. You had settled it by telling them to work together, and although they hadn’t seemed overjoyed at the prospect at first, they were getting along fine now. They had grilled sausages, burgers, chicken legs and onions, and the smoke that filled the garden carried the utterly mouth-watering scent of all of it. You and Reuben were buttering rolls, making salad and laying out a selection of sauces, sides, paper plates and cutlery. At Trader Joe’s earlier, Nat had found the cutest selection of Fourth of July-themed things—napkins, plates, solo cups and cocktail umbrellas. The spread you’d laid out was rather impressive if you did say so yourself. Of course, Nat had put herself on beverage duty. Javy had tried to help, but she insisted that his cocktails were never strong enough. Bob, who thought it best that some non-alcoholic options be available for dinner, was making a large pitcher of iced tea. Mickey was lounging lazily in one of the Adirondack chairs, sunshine on his face, queuing up songs. To say he was obsessed with the overhead sound system would have been putting it lightly.

‘I’m the only one without a job.’ Javy grumbled. ‘Mickey doesn’t have one either.’ Reuben reasoned. ‘Why don’t you make sure he lines up some decent songs?’ You flicked the tea towel you were holding at him. ‘What have you got against the emo classics?’ He held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Nothing! I’m just saying this is the second time he’s played Welcome to the Black Parade.’ Javy winced as the song kicked in, and Gerard Way started belting. ‘You know what, you’re right. I’m on it.’

Javy headed over to Mickey with a determined expression, like a man on a mission. You had to admit, it was a little funny. ‘I think we’re about done, Y/CS.’ Reuben said, hands on his hips as he admired your handiwork. ‘I think you might be right, Payback. It’s lookin’ good.’

You high-fived. Jake appeared with a tray of sausages and burgers. Bradley wasn’t far behind him with the rest of the food. ‘Time to dig in.’ Jake drawled. ‘I must say, I definitely outdid Bradshaw.’ Bradley rolled his eyes. ‘Coming from the guy who tried to flip a burger and dropped it on the floor.’ ‘That was one time.’ Jake grumbled.

The fire crackled low in the pit, its golden glow licking at the chilled night air. The scent of burning wood, the sweetness of melting marshmallows, and the faint tang of lake water still clinging to your skin. You sat cross-legged on one of the worn Adirondack chairs, toes bare, still slightly damp from earlier when Bradley had carried you off the dock and into the shallows with a cocky grin. Now, his arm was draped across the back of your chair, fingers idly brushing the nape of your neck. Every few moments, he traced slow circles there, his thumb skimming over the delicate skin just below your hairline, the motion both absentminded and possessive. It sent the occasional shiver down your spine—not from the cool evening breeze but from him. Always him.

Jake was crouched by the fire with a skewered marshmallow in one hand and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes glinted with mischief as he glanced across the fire pit. ‘You know, Trace, you talk a big game about being a ‘survivor,’ but your s’mores construction skills are lacking.’ He teased, nudging her foot with his knee. Natasha, seated on the edge of a weathered log, barely glanced up as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She was laser-focused on meticulously sandwiching her marshmallow between two graham crackers and a slab of chocolate, ignoring the way it oozed out the sides. ‘Some of us don’t waste perfectly good marshmallows by setting them on fire, Hangman.’ She shot back coolly. But you caught the way her lips quirked faintly—almost imperceptibly—at the edge. Jake’s grin widened. ‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.’ He shifted, leaning a little closer, his voice dipping low. ‘It’s only perfect if it’s a little burnt around the edges.’ She didn’t look at him, but you caught the quick upward glance from under her lashes. The way she rolled her eyes just a second too late, as if she needed the moment to compose herself. She bit into her s’more instead, brushing a sticky thumb along the corner of her mouth with more focus than necessary. Bradley caught the whole exchange from where he sat beside you. You felt the subtle vibration of his quiet chuckle through his chest as he exhaled softly near your ear. ‘Did you catch that?’ He murmured, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers paused on the back of your neck, his lips brushing beneath your ear. ‘Mhm,’ you hummed softly, leaning into him slightly, your temple resting against his jawline. ‘Jake’s really laying it on thick tonight.’ ‘And she’s not hating it.’ He added quietly, just for you. Across the fire, Reuben was sitting on the ground with his back propped against Mickey’s legs, tilting his head up to bicker good-naturedly with him about the correct marshmallow-to-chocolate ratio. Mickey, who was sprawled on the log, waved his skewer in mock authority. ‘Nah, man, I’m telling you, it’s gotta be two pieces of chocolate minimum, or you’re just playing yourself.’ On the far side of the fire, Bob shook his head in quiet exasperation, assembling his s’more with the precision of someone who took even casual campfire desserts far too seriously. You caught the way he squinted in concentration as he aligned the graham crackers perfectly before finally taking a small, satisfied bite.

The fire popped suddenly, sending a small spray of embers upward. You jumped slightly at the crackle, but Bradley’s hand slid from your neck to your thigh, anchoring you without a word. His thumb brushed back and forth, grounding and gentle, and you exhaled into the warmth of him. The conversation lulled for a moment, only the occasional crack of wood and the quiet murmur of crickets filling the silence. The stars overhead were fat and bright, scattered thickly across the sky. The lake beyond the fire pit was so still that it seemed to hold the entire night in its reflection. Bradley shifted slightly, his knuckles brushing your cheek as he pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were heavy-lidded, the firelight flickering gold across his face. He was staring at you—not in a way that demanded your attention, but in a way that let you know he already had it—always had it. You smiled softly, brushing a bit of marshmallow off his bottom lip with your thumb. He caught your wrist before you could pull away, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your palm. When he lowered your hand, he didn’t let go. ‘You warm enough?’ He asked quietly, low enough that the others wouldn’t hear. ‘Yeah.’ You whispered, but you leaned closer as if drawn by gravity. The moment stretched, slow and syrupy, and you almost didn’t notice Jake pushing himself up from the firepit. He stretched with an exaggerated groan before stepping around the circle’s edge. When he passed by Natasha, he paused, bending slightly so they were almost eye-level. ‘You wanna walk down to the dock?’ He asked her, his voice casual but with just the slightest edge of something else, something quieter. Natasha looked up at him. Her lips parted slightly, as if she was going to come back with some sharp retort, but it never came. Instead, she held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, then wordlessly stood and followed him into the darkness. Bradley let out a low chuckle against your temple, and you smiled softly, squeezing his hand in yours. ‘Caught that too.’ You murmured, voice barely above a breath. ‘Yeah,’ he whispered against your skin, his voice a warm rasp, all honey and grit. ‘They think they’re slick.’ You nestled into his chest, fingers toying with the hem of his hoodie, and listened as the fire popped and hissed softly, the scent of charred wood and sugar hanging heavy in the air. The laughter from the others carried softly, mingling with the sound of the lake’s gentle lapping against the dock. And somewhere in the darkness, just out of sight, you knew two people were walking side by side—close, but not touching. Not yet.

A/N: I'm so excited to finally share this with you guys! I've had this in my mind for a long time, and it turns out I have a lot more ideas than I originally thought. 'Dancing in the Dark' was supposed to be a short addition to the sequel series, but the original document is over 9k words, so I'm separating it into two parts. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Buckle up for the next part...

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13@alwayshave-faith@rosedurin@impossibleblizzardstudentposts@crowdedimagines@sadgirlgiselle@sleepy-writersblock@lovelyygirl8@my-therapist-hates-me @primeroseluna @eloquentdreamer@sgt-barnesveins@daybleedsintonightfa11 @honey-and-bi

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

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Rest in peace, Val Kilmer 🕊

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

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* smut

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw heartbreak feels so good universe

heartbreak feels so good | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long. sundress It's been a week since you and Bradley confessed your feelings to each other on the beach. After an impromptu first date, Bradley takes you to a new Italian place on the seafront to wine and dine you like a true gentleman. take my breath away Bradley struggles to keep his feelings in check during a morning training session. A stolen moment in the hangar leads to an intense confession—and an unexpected interruption from another member of The Dagger Squad. loving is easy The rest of the Dagger Squad find out about your relationship with Bradley—some in the most inconvenient way possible. dancing in the dark | part 1 | part 2 Fourth of July weekend. No work. A massive lake house. The Dagger Squad have never felt so lucky. As for Bradley, he's wondering if he'll finally get lucky... lake house moodboard

one shots to the moon & back You are the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the lifelong best friend of Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing has ever been able to get in between the two of you, not even the feelings you’ve been harbouring for him for as long as you can remember. But when you both get called to Top Gun for what seems to be a suicide mission, you realise that life is too short to keep your love for him a secret.

southern state of mind You and Jake are best friends, bonded by your hometown and love for line dancing. You take Bradley and Natasha into the city to a country and western bar and teach them to dance, and hopefully to make your move.

hold me tight or don't After a horrible week, you are feeling low, bordering on depressed. Not wanting to worry your boyfriend you try to hide it but, as always, he sees right through you.

heaven is a place on earth * A roller rink with the Daggers, a bet with Bradley Bradshaw, and a photo booth that’s about to get way too hot. Lose the game, make the move—neither one of you is backing down, especially when the stakes are so high. the way home Christian!Reader prays for Bradley before every flight.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw or Bob Floyd (final pairing to be revealed) i'm with the band | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (TBC) You discover that your best friend Bob can play the drums, and since you have some musical gifts of your own, you decide to start a navy band. It's supposed to be a bit of harmless fun, but what happens when lines get blurred between you and Bob, feelings come to the surface, and a certain Rooster gets jealous?

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callsign-mayhem · 4 months ago

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I love seeing reactions like this🥺it makes it all feel worth it! I’m so glad you loved it, thank you for your support.

PS. I look forward to sharing the weekend trip with you! It’s gonna be a good one!

loving is easy (b.b)

Part three of the 'Heartbreak Feels So Good' sequel series!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k CW: Use of Y/N

The rest of the Dagger Squad find out about your relationship with Bradley—some in the most inconvenient way possible.

FIND THE ORIGINAL SERIES HERE!

The morning sun hung high over the base, casting long shadows across the tarmac as the squad went about their daily routines. Reuben Fitch stretched his legs out on the tarmac, basking in the warmth of the sunlight. He’d already done his laps and his push ups, and he was taking five with a cup of crappy coffee from the cafeteria.

He closed his eyes and turned to face the sun—he could feel the positive effects it was having on him.

Well, up until Javy stood directly in the sun, dousing him in shadow.

‘What the hell, man?’ Reuben snapped.

Javy stepped aside and sat down next to him. ‘You seein’ this?’ He asked.

‘Seeing what?’

He pointed to you and Bradley. The two of you stood out like a beacon of light—though you weren’t intentionally drawing attention to yourselves, it was difficult not to notice. Bradley was giving you a piggyback ride, your laughter floating in the air like a sweet melody. His strides were carefree, and his back was straight and proud as he carried you. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck, and the way you moved together—so comfortable and at ease—made it clear that you were something more than friends. ‘When did that happen?’ Reuben exclaimed. Javy shrugged, pulling out his phone to take a video. ‘I have no idea. I gotta send this to Jake.’

Jake, who was still on deployment, would definitely want to know about this interesting turn of events. ‘Honestly,’ Reuben said, sipping his coffee and wincing. ‘I’m glad. For a minute, I was scared she’d never get over Viper.’ Javy’s lips twitched in a half-smile. ‘I wasn’t worried. They were always gonna get together. Shouldn’t come as a surprise.’ He watched you and Bradley with an air of mild amusement. ‘More surprising that it’s taken this long.’

Reuben’s eyes flicked between you, watching you laugh, utterly oblivious to the attention you were attracting. ‘Did we miss the announcement? Or do they just suck at hiding things?’ ‘They’ve always been like this. Always lookin’ at each other like—’ He paused, mimicking how Bradley looked at you in a way that made Reuben laugh. They watched as Bradley set you down, both of you still laughing. Bradley wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked, heads together as if you shared some secret nobody else knew.

‘They’ll tell us when they're ready.’ Javy reasoned. ‘We just have to do our best to act surprised.’

Bob wanted it on the record that he thought this was a bad idea. Being a backseater meant he’d perfected the art of listening to his intuition; right now, it was screaming at him.

‘Will you stop being such a pussy?’ Natasha hissed, lifting the welcome mat in front of your door. Underneath, your house key glistened in the late morning light.

‘If she’s not answering our texts, she probably has a good reason.’ Bob rationalised.

Nat glared at him as she put the key into the lock and twisted it. The door swung open to your tidy apartment, and she stepped in. ‘Look, you can wait outside if you want, but after everything she’s been through with Viper, I don’t trust this situation. She used to freeze us out, even when she needed us the most.’ Nat reminded him. ‘Maybe she hasn’t broken that habit yet.’

As much as Bob didn’t like this plan, he knew that Natasha had the right idea and that she meant well. Besides, he was worried about you too. He followed her in, gently closing the door behind him.

The apartment was eerily quiet.

‘She must be sleeping.’ Bob whispered. ‘We should go.’

‘We had breakfast plans, though. She wouldn’t forget; we arranged it yesterday before leaving base.’ Nat started heading down the hall that led to your bedroom, the bathroom, and the guest room.

‘You can’t go in there, Phoenix!’

‘I can and I will.’

God, Nat could be stubborn as hell. She couldn’t back down even if she wanted to, not when it came to her friends.

Your bedroom door was already slightly open. Nat pushed it, and Bob reluctantly followed her in. The curtains were open and hazy, golden light pooled on the floor below your window. Bob’s eyes landed on the group photo you had stuck to your vanity mirror, and he smiled thoughtfully.

‘Well, shit.’ Nat murmured bemusedly.

You were nestled into Bradley’s side, tangled under the covers, asleep in each other’s arms. Bradley’s face was relaxed and soft in sleep, with your head resting on his chest and your hand lying gently against his stomach. The faint sound of your synchronised breathing filled the air.

Bob and Nat shared a look, trying to contain their smiles.

‘I guess this answers some of our questions.’ He said.

‘I guess so.’

You started to stir, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light. When you noticed two of your best friends standing at the foot of your bed, you sat bolt upright. The sight of your bedhead was Nat’s final straw, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

She crossed her arms casually. ‘Wondered where you’d gotten to. Did you forget about our plans?’

You groaned in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. Bradley started to stir next to you. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. Looks like you had more pressing matters to attend to.’ She smirked.

‘Phoenix!’ Bob hisssed.

Bradley blinked his eyes open slowly. He shifted, trying to pull you back down as he groggily mumbled something under his breath. When he heard Natasha’s voice, he stiffened slightly. His brows furrowed when he saw her and Bob, clearly trying to process the bizarre situation.

‘What the fuck are you two doing here?’ He grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

‘Checking on Y/N since she didn’t make it to breakfast. Seems to be a regular occurrence these days.’

Bradley squinted at her. ‘Couldn’t you have knocked? Like a normal person?’

‘I told her to knock.’ Bob said. ‘I’m sorry. She’s sorry.’

‘No, I’m not.’ She smirked. ‘Cause if we hadn’t let ourselves in, we would never’ve known.’

Bradley launched a pillow at her, which she dodged. Instead, it hit Bob, knocking his glasses slightly.

‘Okay!’ You exclaimed. ‘This is officially the weirdest wake-up call I’ve ever had! Both of you, wait in the kitchen while we get dressed.’

‘No funny business, you two. I’m starving.’ Nat winked.

Bob practically dragged her out of the room, leaving you and Bradley to get ready and salvage what was left of your dignity.

‘Guess the cat’s out of the bag.’ You grumbled.

The morning air was warm with a slight breeze as the four of you stepped out of your apartment building. The drive to the beachside diner was quick, and as the sun climbed higher, the ocean glistened against the horizon. Bradley walked beside you, the two of you comfortable in each other's company. Bob and Natasha were ahead of you, still talking, but Natasha’s eyes were sparkling with that familiar mischief. The diner was quiet, a perfect little spot overlooking the beach. You settled into a booth beside Bradley, and Natasha wasted no time. ‘So, you guys finally stopped dancing around each other.’ Bradley stirred his coffee, his eyes soft as he glanced at you. He let Natasha have her moment, though you could see the amused smile tugging at his lips. ‘Stop with the teasing.’ He warned, although his heart wasn’t in it. ‘I’m just curious. All the years of ‘nothing’s going on’, and now you two are all cosy in bed together?’ Bob, who’d been quietly sipping his coffee, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was not as eager to probe into your personal life. ‘I mean, come on,’ she continued, her eyes dancing between you and Bradley. ‘You two are practically inseparable. What was it that finally did it?’ You looked over at Bradley, your heart swelling with affection. The teasing might have been playful, but a part of you was still not used to having a public conversation about your relationship. With Elijah, you pretty much kept it all bottled up—partly because you didn’t know how to talk about it and partly because you knew it was fucked up, and if you told anyone, they would convince you to end things. Bradley leaned in slightly, his voice gentle. ‘I’ve always liked her, but I didn’t want to push things too hard while she had a boyfriend.’ Your heart clenched at the mention of your ex, but you were starting to realise that the only way you’d ever get over it was if you stopped bottling things up. ‘Bradley helped me through it, made me realise that I deserve better.’ You smiled at him, momentarily forgetting that your friends were there. ‘And he’s the very definition of better.’ Nat watched the two of you, shaking her head with a smile. She already knew all of this. She just wanted to hear the two of you say it. ‘Well, thank God. Honestly, I was waiting for someone to finally admit it. It was like watching a slow-motion car crash.’ Bob chuckled under his breath, which he quickly tried to hide with a sip of his coffee. ‘It was getting a little painful watching Rooster pine for you, Y/CS.’ This made all of you laugh, probably because Bob rarely spoke his mind so frankly. Despite the playful digs, the warmth of the moment was comforting. ‘We had to get there in our own time,’ you said, squeezing Bradley’s hand under the table. ‘And we’re there now.’ Natasha’s expression softened momentarily, her teasing smile giving way to something more sincere. ‘I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you stopped being idiots.’ Bradley smirked but didn’t argue with her, his hand resting comfortably beside yours. ‘It feels good not to be an idiot anymore.’ He said, his voice low but full of affection. Nat tapped her fingers on the table, grinning. ‘So... when’s the wedding?’ You choked on your coffee, but Bradley just laughed, squeezing your hand a little tighter. ‘Slow down, Nix.’ You glanced at Bradley; how he looked at you made your heart flutter. ‘Yeah, slow down.’ You repeated softly, but it was clear to everyone at the table that you’d already taken the biggest step. The rest would fall into place in time. Bob shook his head, not interested in delving deeper into the teasing. ‘Can we just have a peaceful breakfast for once?’ Everyone laughed again, the tension easing. You felt a deep sense of contentment as the conversation shifted to lighter topics. With Bradley by your side and your friends around you, you knew you’d found your place—together.

Drenched with warm summer rain, you entered The Hard Deck on Bradley’s arm—your favourite place to be. With Elijah, it had never felt this way. With him, entering a bar spiked your anxiety levels beyond control, as there was never any telling how he would act after one too many beers. And if he decided to go for top shelf spirits that night, it would undoubtedly end in tears. With Bradley, you never had to worry about any of that. When you went out together, you only had to worry about trying to pay for a round of drinks without him catching on and snatching your debit card out of your hand. Tonight, the bar was quiet. It was a Wednesday and you knew that a lot of the pilots who frequented Penny’s place had been deployed on an emergency humanitarian aid air drop mission. It was pure chance that none of your squad had been sent away. Aside from Jake, who was still away on a classified mission. It had proven difficult to stay in contact, but you all did your best. Besides, you knew how quickly time flew—he would be back where he belonged in no time. Mickey, Reuben, Javy were already in the group’s usual spot by the dart board. When they saw you and Bradley approaching, their conversation trailed off and they looked up. ‘Hey.’ Bradley greeted, pulling a stool out for you. Mickey glanced at the others. He seemed to be silently asking permission to say something. Reuben nodded once, granting him permission. ‘So, Coyote and Payback have something they wanna ask you two.’ Mickey said. Javy glared at him, and Bradley’s eyes darted to you. Had Mickey slipped up and let on about what he’d seen in the hangar the other week? Bracing himself, Bradley said: ‘What’s going on?’ Reuben smiled sheepishly. ‘Coyote and I saw you giving Y/N a piggyback ride across the runway on Friday morning, and we thought you looked kind of like a couple.’ The last thing Bradley expected you to do was laugh, but that’s just what you did. ‘That’s ‘cause we are.’ You said nonchalantly. Even though Reuben and Javy already seemed to be in the know, both of their mouths dropped open at your admission. Maybe they’d expected you to lie, or be embarrassed, but what was the point? You and Bradley had already had your fun, sneaking around for a month or so. After Mickey had found out, and then Nat and Bob, you realised it was time to tell your closest friends—your family. Mickey beamed, and Bradley eyed him suspiciously. ‘Did you tell them?’ He asked, pointing to the others. Mickey’s happy smile faltered. ‘What, no! I promised I wouldn’t.’ You put your hand on Bradley’s thigh. ‘He wouldn’t do that, babe. Besides, we haven’t been all that secretive lately.’ ‘No,’ Bradley smiled. ‘I guess we haven’t.’ A soft, electronic trill filled the air. Javy leaned his phone against a pint glass, and after a few seconds, Jake picked up. It was rare for him to pick up his phone. ‘Jakey-boy!’ Javy exclaimed. ‘How are you, man?’ ‘All good. They reckon I’m gonna be home sooner than they thought.’ ‘That’s great. I told you that would happen.’ ‘What’s up, anyway? How is everyone?’ Jake inquired. With a knowing smirk, Javy turned his phone around. ‘These two have something they need to tell you.’ You rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the phone. ‘What’s goin’ on, darlin’?’ He asked. Before you could speak, Bradley snatched the phone. ‘There isn’t gonna be a wedding invitation waiting for you when you get back, but maybe someday.’ Jake’s face split into the brightest grin you’d ever seen. You nudged Bradley, confused. ‘What are you talking about?’ Jake chuckled. ‘Before I left, I told him there better be a wedding invitation waiting on my doorstep when I get home.’ Your breath hitched in your throat at the thought of marrying Bradley. What a dream that would be.

‘So you really were crushing on me the whole time?’ You teased. ‘Oh, he has it bad.’ Jake replied. Even though you already knew this, hearing it from someone else made it hit home.

‘Well, that’s just fine, because I do, too.’ Jake pretended to gag, and you handed the phone back to Javy with a laugh. Suddenly, you couldn’t remember why you and Bradley had wanted to keep your relationship secret, even for a little while. It was so much more fun, and so much more real now it was out in the open. The jukebox switched songs, the squad’s laughter filled the bar, and Bradley pulled you a little closer—because after all, this was just the beginning.

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry for the wait. I thought it would be interesting to see how the rest of the Daggers would find out, so here it is. I've got something really exciting planned for the next part... I'm thinking the Daggers take a long weekend trip somewhere. :)

Taglist: @crowdedimagines @sadgirlgiselle @sleepy-writersblock @lovelyygirl8 @my-therapist-hates-me @primroseluna @eloquentdreamer @sgt-barnesveins @daybleedsintonightfa11 @constructivejudger @honey-and-bi @caitsymichelle13 @alwayshave-faith @rosedurin @impossibleblizzardstudentposts

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callsign-mayhem · 4 months ago

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loving is easy (b.b)

Part three of the 'Heartbreak Feels So Good' sequel series!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k CW: Use of Y/N

The rest of the Dagger Squad find out about your relationship with Bradley—some in the most inconvenient way possible.

FIND THE ORIGINAL SERIES HERE!

He closed his eyes and turned to face the sun—he could feel the positive effects it was having on him.

Well, up until Javy stood directly in the sun, dousing him in shadow.

‘What the hell, man?’ Reuben snapped.

Javy stepped aside and sat down next to him. ‘You seein’ this?’ He asked.

‘Seeing what?’

‘They’ll tell us when they're ready.’ Javy reasoned. ‘We just have to do our best to act surprised.’

Bob wanted it on the record that he thought this was a bad idea. Being a backseater meant he’d perfected the art of listening to his intuition; right now, it was screaming at him.

‘Will you stop being such a pussy?’ Natasha hissed, lifting the welcome mat in front of your door. Underneath, your house key glistened in the late morning light.

‘If she’s not answering our texts, she probably has a good reason.’ Bob rationalised.

As much as Bob didn’t like this plan, he knew that Natasha had the right idea and that she meant well. Besides, he was worried about you too. He followed her in, gently closing the door behind him.

The apartment was eerily quiet.

‘She must be sleeping.’ Bob whispered. ‘We should go.’

‘You can’t go in there, Phoenix!’

‘I can and I will.’

God, Nat could be stubborn as hell. She couldn’t back down even if she wanted to, not when it came to her friends.

‘Well, shit.’ Nat murmured bemusedly.

Bob and Nat shared a look, trying to contain their smiles.

‘I guess this answers some of our questions.’ He said.

‘I guess so.’

She crossed her arms casually. ‘Wondered where you’d gotten to. Did you forget about our plans?’

You groaned in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. Bradley started to stir next to you. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. Looks like you had more pressing matters to attend to.’ She smirked.

‘Phoenix!’ Bob hisssed.

‘What the fuck are you two doing here?’ He grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

‘Checking on Y/N since she didn’t make it to breakfast. Seems to be a regular occurrence these days.’

Bradley squinted at her. ‘Couldn’t you have knocked? Like a normal person?’

‘I told her to knock.’ Bob said. ‘I’m sorry. She’s sorry.’

‘No, I’m not.’ She smirked. ‘Cause if we hadn’t let ourselves in, we would never’ve known.’

Bradley launched a pillow at her, which she dodged. Instead, it hit Bob, knocking his glasses slightly.

‘Okay!’ You exclaimed. ‘This is officially the weirdest wake-up call I’ve ever had! Both of you, wait in the kitchen while we get dressed.’

‘No funny business, you two. I’m starving.’ Nat winked.

Bob practically dragged her out of the room, leaving you and Bradley to get ready and salvage what was left of your dignity.

‘Guess the cat’s out of the bag.’ You grumbled.

‘So you really were crushing on me the whole time?’ You teased. ‘Oh, he has it bad.’ Jake replied. Even though you already knew this, hearing it from someone else made it hit home.

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callsign-mayhem · 4 months ago

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heaven is a place on earth (b.b)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 4.6k CW: Smut and swearing. MINORS DNI.

A roller rink with the Daggers, a bet with Bradley Bradshaw, and a photo booth that’s about to get way too hot. Lose the game, make the move—neither one of you is backing down, especially when the stakes are so high.

Rollerskating was—of course—Mickey’s idea. Who else, at the ripe age of 32, would suggest it when faced with the question of what to do on a Friday night?

It had come about earlier in the week when Javy complained that he was bored of spending every Friday at The Hard Deck. At first, you were shocked to hear it, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that you felt the same. The Hard Deck was great and would always be the Dagger Squad’s designated hangout spot, but you could do with a change.

Everybody agreed, but by Thursday night, there was still no plan for the following evening. Jake had suggested a country bar in the city, which you and Reuben had liked the sound of. Turns out, you were the only ones.

Natasha had suggested sushi, but you weren’t a fan and Mickey didn’t think it was exciting enough for your first Friday adventure away from The Hard Deck.

You were getting ready for bed when the text came through to the Dagger Squad group chat.

And that’s how you found yourself lacing up the old pair of skates you’d dug out from the back of your closet.

‘Since when do you own rollerskates?’ Jake retorted.

‘Since college.’ You replied. ‘I got a lot of use out of them. I had a friend who loved skating, and she forced me to buy a pair.’

Jake raised a brow. ‘Doesn’t match up with the version of you I have in my head.’

‘You’re just annoyed ‘cause I’m gonna show you up. Bet you’re shit at skating.’ You smirked.

Bradley, who was lacing up his own skates next to you, huffed a laugh. Jake’s shit-eating grin faltered. He was getting that look he always got when he challenged someone.

‘How hard can it be?’ He asked, full of fake bravado.

‘It’s harder than it looks.’ You told him.

‘Ten bucks says you fall on your ass before I do.’

You looked up at him and smirked, reaching your hand out so you could shake on it. ‘Oh, you’re so on.’

‘Material Girl’ by Madonna blasted through the overhead speakers, and disco lights spattered the rink with colour. The neon-coloured seats outside the rink were shaped like giant blobs of paint, and the Daggers were spread across three of them, getting ready to make total fools of themselves.

Bob shifted uneasily as he eyed his feet, trying to figure out how to stand up without sprawling flat out on the ground. You stood up easily and glided over to him, earning you a whistle from Reuben.

‘You okay, Bobby?’ You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

He offered you a weak smile. ‘I’ve never skated before.’

‘That’s okay, I’ll help.’

You held out both hands and he took them tentatively. His palms were slick with nervous sweat, and you had to swallow a laugh. It would only make him more nervous if he thought you were making fun of him.

‘Alright, on the count of three. One…two…’

And then you pulled him up. He couldn’t straighten his legs at first, and he wobbled a bit, but after a couple of seconds he was standing up straight and steady.

‘There you go.’ You praised. ‘Easy peasy.’

Nat, who was leaning against the edge of the rink waiting for everyone, clapped.

‘Now you’ve actually gotta move, Floyd.’ She called out.

Bob glanced at her nervously.

‘Ignore her. You fly in multi-million dollar jets every day, Bob. You can get yourself from here to the rink.’

Thankfully, this turned out to be precisely the right thing to say. You held on to one of his hands, and the two of you gently edged over to Nat. It took longer than it should have, but he was still upright by the time he got there, so you counted that as a win.

‘Well done.’ You beamed.

You were about to step out onto the rink when Mickey called out your name.

‘Can I get a ride, too? I’m stuck!’ He yelled.

You rolled your eyes. ‘This was your idea!’

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I know how to skate!’

You whizzed over to where Mickey was standing. He smiled sheepishly as you took his hand and repeated the same steps you’d taken with Bob. Mickey almost fell over, but he was right by the rink by that point, so he grabbed the edge to stop it from happening.

Effortlessly, you spun around. ‘Okay, anybody else?’

Bradley rolled over almost as effortlessly as you had. He was wearing one of his more ‘out there’ Hawaiian shirts, and the pink flowers seemed to glow in the dark. Honestly, you were a bit gutted that he didn’t need your help—it would’ve been a good excuse to hold his hand.

He leaned down so you would be able to hear him. ‘Hangman needs help, but he’s too proud to admit it.’ Bradley murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

You hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that broke out across your skin.

‘I wouldn’t help him even if he asked.’ You retorted.

Javy and Reuben managed to get over to the rink's edge without much trouble, but Jake was checking his phone one last time and ensuring it was secure in the pocket of his jeans.

‘What’re you waitin’ for, Hangman?’ You shouted.

He rolled his eyes, and you and Bradley both laughed.

Jake on roller skates reminded you of a baby deer that hadn’t learned to walk properly yet. You suspected you would be ten bucks richer in the next five minutes.

Madonna gave way to ‘Take On Me’ by Aha, and Bradley nudged your arm with his elbow.

‘I love this song, let’s get out there. Hangman will catch up.’

His smile and joyous energy were infectious, so you followed him onto the rink without a word, and without looking back at poor Jake who was stuck behind a group of kids who were skating better than he was.

‘It’s the carpet.’ You heard him say. ‘I’ll be fine once I get off the carpet.’

Reuben, Coyote, and Nat were right behind Bradley and you. You mistakenly thought it would be a while before any of them could catch up on you, but then Nat glided past you, her dark hair billowing out behind her.

‘Whoa, Phoenix! I thought you couldn’t skate!’ Bradley exclaimed.

She spun around, so she was rolling backwards. ‘I never said that. There are plenty of things you don’t know about me!’

She sped off. Reuben and Javy tried to catch up, but their glides weren’t long enough, and they wobbled a lot.

‘You’re shuffling, not skating.’ You instructed. ‘You need to push the tips of your toes into the floor and then push forward.’

They wore matching confused frowns, and you huffed in annoyance. ‘It’s hard to explain. Just watch my feet!’

When the song's chorus kicked in, you pushed off and started taking long strides across the rink. When you got close to the edge, you leaned to your left to get around the corner, and then picked up your speed. It felt like being 21 again, carefree and full of boundless energy.

By the time Mickey, Bob and Jake finally joined the rest of the squad on the rink, you'd done three loops.

Reuben and Javy watched you closely; before long, they were building their confidence. Bradley was skating next to them, watching you with an impressed smirk.

It was easily the most fun you’d had in months.

Especially when Jake got too cocky, sped up and went straight into the barrier around the rink. You felt it in your body when he smashed into the floor.

You got to him quickly and helped him back onto his feet.

‘Are you hurt?’ You asked.

‘Just my pride.’

You grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘In that case, you owe me ten dollars.’ You said, and then you were on your way again.

Nat was teaching Bob and Mickey the same technique you’d taught Javy and Reuben, who were now racing each other around the rink. You’d slowed down next to Bradley to watch the commotion that was sure to end in tears.

Not five seconds later, the same group of kids that had gotten in Jake’s way were right in their path. The pair of them were going way too fast to stop, and before you could shout, the whole lot of them were in a pile on the floor. Both you and Bradley doubled over in hysterics, unable to breathe properly.

You were laughing so hard that you almost fell over. Bradley grabbed your waist with his big, strong hands, steadying you immediately. The warmth of his touch through the skin-tight fabric of your tank top was something you doubted you’d be able to forget anytime soon.

‘Easy, sweetheart.’ He said gruffly.

Your heart pitter-pattered, loud and fast enough that you were sure he could hear it over ‘Heaven Is A Place On Earth.’ Your mind wandered to the other places you wouldn’t mind those hands being, and you were nearing dangerous territory. Like, not-being-able-to-look-Bradley-in-the-eye-without-kissing-him territory.

But then Mickey rolled up beside you, the rest of the Daggers in tow, demanding your hand. Apparently, there was a first time for everything, because suddenly, you’d all made one long link. A friendship link, as Mickey had so gleefully yelled. You were skating around the rink in one long chain, laughing and singing along to Belinda Carlisle. It was a neon-coloured, cotton-candy scented dream.

Nearly two hours passed. The time flew by so quickly that when someone announced over the intercom that the seven o'clock group had only 5 minutes left, you were genuinely gobsmacked.

‘There’s no way we’ve been here that long already!’ Mickey exclaimed.

‘I know right,’ you said, pretty bummed out. ‘We’re gonna have to come back, I really enjoyed tonight.’

Nat looped her arm through yours. ‘I think even Hangman enjoyed himself towards the end.’

Jake was in front of you, trying to learn how to skate backwards with Bradley, who kept catching your eye on purpose.

There had always been chemistry between you, but nothing had ever come of it. In actual fact, tonight was the most obvious the two of you had been about it.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to dwell on this too much, because you had to get off the rink. The group chatted happily as they removed their skates and put their shoes back on. Everybody else had rented skates, so you went outside to wait while they returned them.

After two hours of skating, the fresh air was a relief. Your skates were tied together, slung over your shoulder, and you closed your eyes and lifted your face to the sky, breathing deeply. A night with your squad always left you feeling whole in ways that alone time didn’t.

‘Y/N!’ Bradley called.

You turned around to find him standing in the doorway holding what appeared to be two beers.

‘There’s an arcade upstairs, and bowling. You comin’ back in?’

This wasn’t part of the plan, but you were happy that the night wasn’t over yet.

‘What, so I can kick your ass at every game?’ You teased.

Bradley cocked a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smirk. God, you wanted to kiss that stupid mouth.

‘How about we make a bet of our own?’ He said, watching as you strolled over to him.

You didn’t stop until you were right in front of him, close enough that if you stood on your tiptoes just slightly, your lips would be touching.

‘What do you have in mind?’

He stared at you intently, eyes dark with lust. His brief glance at your glossed lips was a dead giveaway. ‘First one to lose a game has to make the first move.’ He rasped.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and he released a short, exasperated breath.

‘Deal.’

Reuben, Javy, Bob and Mickey were locked into a serious game of bowling. You weren’t sure, but you thought they were playing for money. Nat and Jake were playing air hockey—rather viciously. After dumping your skates, you and Bradley set about choosing a game to play.

Mickey had really lucked-out by finding this place. The arcade was chock-full of different games and amusements—so many that you were overwhelmed by choices.

Bradley suggested Mortal Kombat, to which you politely declined. You counter-offered the race car sim, but Bradley wasn’t feeling it.

After playfully debating pros and cons for most of the games, the pair of you found yourself in front of Dance Dance Revolution.

There were so many pros for this one. For one, you kicked ass at DDR. For two, you would be in close proximity the entire time. You could accidentally trip him up or something.

Bradley shook his head slowly. ‘Uh-uh. Nope.’ He made a point of popping the ‘p’.

‘Why?’ You whined. ‘Please, it’ll be fun. Besides, I suck at this game so I’ll probably lose anyway.’ You lied.

Bradley eyed you suspiciously. Then, he got distracted and he trailed over your entire body. You might as well have been standing naked in front of him, for the way it made you feel.

He licked his bottom lip and you shivered. ‘Fine. Dance battle it is.’

You stepped onto the DDR platform, rolling your shoulders as the neon lights flickered over the screen. Bradley took the spot next to you, cracking his knuckles like he was about to go into battle.

He glanced over, that cocky smirk already tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘Think you can keep up with me, sweetheart?’ He teased, nudging your shoulder.

The machine beeped, the song selection flashing across the screen, and you scrolled through the options with deliberate slowness, dragging out the moment just to watch him fidget. His hands settled on his hips, chest rising and falling as he exhaled through his nose. Oh, he wants to win. Badly.

But when you finally picked a song and stepped back, Bradley leaned in—just enough for his breath to ghost over your cheek—and murmured, ‘Hope you don’t get too distracted.’

The countdown ticked down, and the first notes of the song exploded from the speakers. The arrows rolled up the screen, and you both moved in sync, feet tapping out the rhythm like it was second nature. You were laser-focused—at first. But then you glanced over, and Bradley was watching you, not the screen.

He was still nailing every step, his body moving effortlessly, but his eyes? They flickered over to yours, his smirk widening when he caught you looking. Oh, he was playing dirty.

‘You’re slowing down, sweetheart.’ He taunted over the pounding bass, his voice smug and dripping with amusement.

You gritted your teeth and snapped your gaze back to the screen, doubling down—faster steps. Perfect timing. Your score started climbing, matching his. But then—distraction struck back.

Bradley suddenly rolled his hips with the beat, his arms lifting slightly like he was actually dancing instead of just playing, and your brain stuttered.

‘Oh, come on.’ You huffed, missing an arrow.

His laughter was rich and victorious, but you didn’t have time to glare at him. The song kicked into high gear, the steps coming rapid-fire, and you forced yourself to focus, willing your feet to move faster, faster, until—

The screen flashed.

PLAYER TWO: GAME OVER.

Your heart sank as you realised what just happened. One tiny misstep, one moment of distraction, and—

Bradley whooped, punching the air. ‘And that, sweetheart, is game.’ He crowed, stepping off the platform with the swagger of a man who knew exactly what was coming next.

Your stomach flipped as he turned back to face you, grinning like the cat who got the cream. ‘You remember the bet, don’t you?’

Oh, you remembered.

And from the way he was looking at you—his lips slightly parted, his hands twitching at his sides like he was holding himself back—so did he.

You’d felt pretty confident up until about five seconds ago, and now the rug had been ripped out from under you. The DDR machine was in a poorly lit corner at the back of the arcade. Panicking slightly, you scanned your surroundings, trying to devise a plan. What if someone saw you? Were you supposed to kiss him?

Then your attention was snagged by the photo booth against the opposite wall. It was nestled between the back wall and a claw machine full of Jellycats. If this next part went well, you made a mental note to bring Bradley back here and make him win one for you.

Now you had a plan, your confidence was slowly trickling back in. After one more glance around the space to make sure none of the Daggers were watching, you grabbed Bradley’s hand and pulled him towards the photo booth.

‘Romantic.’ He quipped, a shit-eating grin to rival Jake’s plastered on his face.

If you thought DDR was close quarters, this was something else entirely. The bench was just big enough for the two of you.

You pushed the button to start it up, and prepared to pose for the first picture.

You knew the first one would be cute, because you and Bradley were both grinning like lovesick fools. As the countdown began for the second picture, your confidence finally hit max capacity…

Without giving yourself time to back out, you put your hand on the top of Bradley’s thigh and just before the camera snapped, you (not so) gently grabbed his dick. Now you were the one sporting the shit-eating grin, and Bradley’s head snapped towards you. That move had made him practically rabid.

You stared each other down, the countdown totally forgotten about. It didn’t matter, anyway. You were perfectly on time without even trying.

One minute, you were staring, and the next, Bradley was on you. Your hands were in his hair as he pulled you onto his lap and let both of his hands rest on your ass. The kiss was sloppy and frantic; you didn’t dare stop even though you were breathless. You’d been waiting a long time for this. You silently thanked your past self for choosing this little white tennis skirt. You could feel Bradley’s hard-on through your underwear.

His hands, which were on top of your skirt, now reached under so he was touching bare skin (another thank you to your past self for the pretty white thong). This only seemed to intensify the moment, because his lips moved to your neck. It was your turn to make noise when he began sucking on the sweet spot just below your earlobe. Honestly, you hadn’t meant for the moan to escape you, but it had, and he’d definitely heard it.

Bradley stopped only to tease you. ‘Oh, you like that do you?’

‘B-bradley.’ You breathed.

‘Okay, okay.’ He whispered. ‘I’ll carry on.’

And he did. You became a squirming, writhing mess on top of him, and he was eating it up. You’d lost the bet and you wanted to take some control back. While he was busy kissing your neck, you undid the button and zipper on his jeans, and reached in. You were sly and quick about it, and he barely had enough time to register what you were doing before you were palming his dick over his boxers.

Bradley’s breath caught in his throat as he tilted his head back up to look at you. His eyes were all pupil, and his cheeks were as red as the photo booth curtain. How was it possible for a man to be so fucking sexy and so adorable at the same time?

You had him right where you wanted him. Or so you’d thought. Stupidly, you found yourself getting distracted by the size of him, and that’s when he took two fingers and slipped them underneath the wet fabric separating you from him. All he had to do was make one stroke, and you were mewing in his lap.

‘Unless you want me to fuck you in this photobooth,’ you snapped. ‘You better cut that shit out.’

A deep, husky chuckle rolled through him, vibrating against your chest. You were half-joking, but he took your threat seriously. Adjusting slightly, he pulled his jeans down so they were at his knees, and then let you resume your former position. If you shimmied forward slightly, you’d be sitting directly on his dick, just his boxers and your flimsy underwear between you. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to decide whether to do that or not, because Bradley gripped your thighs and pulled you forward.

Dizzy with lust, you reached around and pulled his length from his boxers. Following your lead, he pulled your thong to the side, and slowly pushed two fingers deep into the heat of you. You bit back a moan that would have been far too loud, and his smirk was so frustrating that you had to cover his mouth with yours to hide it. He licked your bottom lip, and you let him taste you. It was a good distraction from the noises you were thinking about making.

‘I don’t have a condom.’ He whispered against your lips.

You were in such a state of ecstasy that you could barely get two words out. You just about managed to say one, which was simply ‘pill.’

He chuckled darkly again, and you tightened around his fingers. ‘Can you give me a full sentence, pretty girl? I need to make sure we’re both on the same page.’

He was being genuine, but he also couldn’t help himself. He added another finger and watched your eyes roll into the back of your head.

‘Sweet girl?’ He prompted.

You had a death grip on his bicep. ‘I’m. On. The. Pill.’ You said through gritted teeth.

‘See,’ he whispered, positioning himself beneath you. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

‘I’m gonna get you back for that someday, Bradshaw.’

‘I look forward to it.’

His tip pressed against your entrance. Briefly, you wondered what would happen if one of the Daggers, or some random stranger, came down to this end of the arcade. But then you were sinking onto Bradley’s cock, and the worries just melted away. As he gripped your hips and to help you get a rhythm, the phrase ‘rearrange my guts’ took on a totally new meaning. You groaned, and Bradley captured your lips in a brief kiss.

‘Quiet, sweetheart.’

Something about his commanding tone made it harder to keep quiet. You bit down on your lip to keep from shouting his name at the top of your lungs.

You were having sex. With Bradley Bradshaw. In a photo booth.

If Bradley hadn’t suddenly grabbed your hips, lifted you slightly, and started thrusting up into you, you would’ve laughed.

‘Fuck,’ he stuttered. ‘You feel so good.’

You were close. You tightened around him and he groaned again—it was your new favourite sound.

‘I’m-’

‘Me too.’

And then both of you were coming. Hard. His head rolled back as he tipped over the edge and spilled into you. It felt like someone had used your nerve endings to light a match.

You rode out your highs together, and when you were spent, you let out a long, shaky breath.

‘Holy fuck.’ You said.

Bradley ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well, I hope you like souvenirs, baby, ‘cause we’re keeping those pictures.’

You laughed. ‘We should probably get out of here. We’ve been missing a while.’

He kissed you again, for good measure. ‘I need to ask you something.'

You cocked your head. ‘What?’

‘Was that a one time thing?’

‘I really, really hope not.’

Back at the bowling lanes, Jake and Nat had joined in the fun. When you and Bradley appeared, everybody turned. Jake grinned wickedly. You locked eyes with Bob and he diverted his gaze very quickly. Nat was glaring at Bradley like a disappointed mother. Mickey and Reuben both handed Javy twenty bucks. All of this happened over the course of five, extremely drawn-out seconds.

‘You two were gone a while.’ Nat pointed out, folding her arms.

You and Bradley glanced at each other, unsure how to approach this situation.

‘We were playing Dance Dance Revolution.’ You told her. ‘I lost a bet.’

‘Really.’ She droned, sounding almost bored.

Oh, she knew alright.

You scrambled for something to say, tried to ignore the heat of everyone’s eyes burning into you. It was like they could see your sinful act written all over you.

And the ground might as well have opened up and swallowed you whole when Nat said: ‘Take any nice pictures?’

A/N: Just a little one shot while I try to motivate myself to finish my WIPs. This is my first time writing smut, so if it sucks, go easy on me.

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callsign-mayhem · 5 months ago

Text

i'm with the band (part 3)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female!Reader & Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader (final pairing to be revealed at the end...) Word count: 8.2k CW: Use of Y/N; the reader is kinda alternative

You discover that your best friend Bob can play the drums, and since you have some musical gifts of your own, you decide to start a navy band. It's supposed to be a bit of harmless fun, but what happens when lines get blurred between you and Bob, feelings come to the surface, and a certain Rooster gets jealous?

This is a multi-part fic.

Part one Part two

Bradley had no problem with Mondays. In fact, he would go so far as to say he enjoyed them. This was primarily because you brought coffee and doughnuts to work for the whole squad to share.

It had started a few weeks into your permanent station on North Island, and you’d done it every Monday since.

Bradley had gone so far as to arrive early for work that day. So early, he was there before you. When you walked into the meeting room—a doughnut tray in your arms and eight coffees in holders precariously balanced on top—he was reclining comfortably in one of the seats. When he realised how much you were carrying, he jumped up.

‘Bradley!’ You exclaimed, surprised. ‘What are you doing here so early?’

He took the coffees so you could set the doughnuts down without spilling them.

‘Oh, you know. Early bird catches the worm and all that.’ He said flippantly, flashing you a lazy grin.

What he really meant was, ‘early bird catches Y/N Y/L/N before everyone else arrives and steals her attention.’

You put your hands on your hips—those damn hips, all he could think about was the sight of them in that dress from dinner a couple of weeks ago.

‘Well, lucky you because you get the first pick of the doughnuts and the coffee while it’s still piping hot.’ You beamed, although, for some reason, unbeknownst to Bradley, you couldn’t quite meet his eye.

‘You’re so sweet, Y/CS.’ He grinned.

‘Well, thanks.’ You smiled, blushing profusely. God, you were adorable.

He couldn’t tell if it was awkwardness, shyness, or if you were upset about something, but he knew something wasn’t quite right. He finally had you all to himself, and you couldn’t even look at him. Currently, you were busying yourself putting sugars in a few cups (because you knew how everyone liked their coffees), replacing the lids and writing an initial on the top so you wouldn’t forget which was which.

‘You okay, sweetheart?’ Bradley asked, flipping open the doughnut box and selecting one at random.

He scanned your face for answers, but you gave nothing away.

‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ you replied. ‘Just exhausted.’

Bradley wasn’t convinced, but he could tell you weren’t up for discussing whatever was wrong. Reluctantly, he let it slide and bit into his doughnut—chocolate sprinkles and icing, Nutella all the way through.

He was working out the best way to ask you to dinner (ballsy) when the door to the break room swung open, smashing into the wall behind it. Both of you jumped all the way out of your skin.

‘Jesus Christ.’ You hissed, spinning around.

It was Mickey. Obviously.

‘Sorry.’ He smiled sheepishly.

‘Very on-brand entrance.’ You muttered.

Mickey practically skipped over to the table, eyes wide at the sight of the massive doughnut box.

‘What have we got this week?’ He asked.

‘One of everything.’ You told him. ‘Although, I think the lady put an extra cinnamon swirl in there.’

Mickey turned his nose up. ‘No thanks. Nutella?’

Your eyes flickered over to Bradley, who had a mouthful of doughnut and chocolate sprinkles stuck in his moustache. He froze as Mickey followed your line of sight.

‘Seriously, Rooster?!’ He exclaimed. ‘You know they’re my favourite!’

Bradley shrugged. ‘Should’ve got here earlier like I did.’

Mickey cocked a brow. ‘Yeah, ‘cause that’s why you’re here before everyone else.’

Bradley could’ve happily rammed the rest of his doughnut in Mickey’s mouth for that remark, but he refrained. Suddenly, your cup of coffee had gotten really interesting.

Thankfully, Javy and Reuben breezed in. Bradley admired their natural confidence. They were unruffled, always the calmest people in the room. Bradley only pretended to be the calmest person in the room. He was a phoney, thoughts constantly swirling around inside his head.

‘Good mornin’.’ Reuben greeted.

You handed him his coffee—two sugars and a splash of creamer—with a smile that made Bradley want to put his fist through something.

‘Coffee for Payback.’ You said, reaching over to grab Javy’s. ‘And coffee for Coyote.’

Javy put his arm around your shoulder, and you rested your head on his chest for a second. ‘Thanks, Y/CS. You’re the best.’

Bradley ground his teeth together. He knew his jealousy was misplaced, but there it was, rearing its ugly, green head anyway.

Nat, Bob and Jake were the last to arrive. It was almost time to get out onto the runway. Honestly, Bradley was looking forward to it. He needed to think about something other than you, which he found himself needing a lot recently.

Now that Bob was here, Bradley’s chances of getting your attention were slim to none. You were perched on the edge of the table, chatting animatedly with your best friend who stood in front of you. Bradley almost scoffed out loud. Any closer, he’d be on your lap.

Unfortunately, Mickey was prattling on at Bradley, so he only heard snippets of your conversation.

‘—practise tonight.’

‘Fletch is bringing—’

‘—torn between Bon Jovi and—’

Bradley had so many questions and nobody to get answers from. Did you mean Fletcher Adams? Bradley knew he only had one option, which didn’t seem appealing. He knew he was about to open himself up for a lot of teasing and questioning, but his curiosity burned within him. He just had to know.

On the way out to the hangar, Bradley pulled Natasha aside.

‘Walk with me?’ He asked, looking around to see if anyone had noticed.

Natasha’s face crumpled in confusion. ‘Okay, weirdo?’

Bradley took a deep breath. ‘Do you know if Y/N is friends with Fletcher Adams?’

‘Yes,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘So is Bob.’

‘What are they doing with that ass, and what does any of it have to do with Jon Bon fucking Jovi?’

Natasha snickered, only aggravating Bradley more. ‘The real question you should ask is what it has to do with you.’

Bradley couldn’t take it anymore. ‘You know what.’ He snapped.

‘Ah, so you’ve finally seen the light, have you? Not lying to yourself anymore?’ She was almost giddy with this particular turn of events.

‘Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or not?’

Nat sighed. ‘I’ll tell you, but you won’t like it. And you can’t mention it to anyone.’

Bradley’s insides twisted. He was imagining you and Fletcher fucking Adams as a couple, or worse, you and Bob. He almost wanted to close his eyes for the devastating blow he was sure was coming.

‘They’re in a band together. Y/N and Bob started it, Fletch is on guitar, and they’ve got Elliot Green from air and space ops on bass.’

Well, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

‘What?’

‘I know. Think they’ve landed themselves a gig, too.’

Bradley’s head was spinning. This was so far outside the realm of what he’d been anticipating that he felt disorientated. He hadn’t even realised that he’d stopped in his tracks until Nat stopped, too.

‘You good, Bradshaw?’ She asked, all the lightheartedness gone from her voice.

‘Erm, yeah. I’m good.’

‘I told her she should’ve asked you.’ Nat told him, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. ‘But she thought you’d find it lame. Didn’t think you’d want any part of it.’

Bradley felt as though he’d been slapped. ‘Are you serious? Why the fuck would she think that?’

‘I told her the same thing. Too late now, I guess.’

‘Yeah.’ Bradley said, swallowing thickly. ‘I guess it is.’

You were practically drooling watching Bob drumming to ‘Animal I Have Become’ by Three Days Grace. As Elliot had said, the song had a delicious bassline, and you and Fletch were breaking in your new guitar pedals. It had been your idea to learn this song, partly because it was one of your favourites and partly because you knew it would get people moshing.

At your gig.

It still hadn’t sunk in yet. Between the thought of playing in front of people, Bob’s muscles in that t-shirt, and Bradley calling you sweetheart earlier, you had no idea how you were managing to focus on singing and playing guitar.

By the time you reached the song's end, you were ready for a break.

‘Shall we take five?’ You asked breathlessly.

Elliot and Fletch both agreed. You didn’t wait for Bob’s response before heading into the house. He kept drinks in the mini-fridge, but you needed a change of scenery.

In the main fridge, you found a four-pack of your favourite Monster, which Bob always kept on standby. This reminder was not helping you to take your mind off things. You cracked one open and leaned against the counter, taking a few deep breaths with your eyes closed.

Your conversation with Nat felt like it had taken place years ago, yet it was all you thought about. Bradley or Bob? You still didn’t fully believe that Bradley even liked you.

That would be insane, right?

‘Y/N?’ Bob was standing in the doorway, frowning. ‘Are you alright?’

You tipped your head back and sighed. ‘Just got a lot on my mind. I’ll be okay.’

‘You wanna talk about it?’ He asked, taking a few steps closer.

He wasn’t wearing glasses because he opted for contacts when drumming, and he wore a black Vans baseball cap over his sandy hair. Sweat glistened on the side of his neck, and his t-shirt clung to his body in all the right places. You dragged your hand over your mouth and tried not to release the unholy sound that was climbing up your throat.

‘No.’ You said, shaking your head for good measure. ‘Let’s just get back to it.’

He looked extremely concerned. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

You headed back into the garage, Bob close behind you.

Elliot and Fletcher sat on the floor, sheets of music spread out around them and cans of coke in their hands. The band had met for practise every night this week after work. It was Thursday, and you’d put together half a setlist already. You knew deciding on the rest of the songs wouldn't be difficult, so everything should have been perfect.

The problem was nobody could come up with a name for the band.

It had been grating on all four of you for weeks, and you didn’t seem any closer to a solution. All of you were just hoping that a name would fall out of the sky in time for your gig at The Hideout.

‘Ready to pick it back up?’ You asked.

Fletcher wordlessly held up a sheet of music, which you took.

You scoffed. ‘You can’t be serious.’

Elliot looked up at you, doe-eyes wide behind his glasses. ‘Come on, Y/N. You know it would be awesome.’

‘And your voice is fucking killer.’ Fletcher added. ‘You could totally pull this off.’

You looked at both of them in disbelief. ‘I really don’t think I could.’

Bob appeared next to you. He somehow still smelled of freshly laundered cotton and bergamot, which baffled you since he was quite literally dripping with sweat.

He took the sheet of music from you. ‘I don’t think I know this song. I know the band, not the song.’

You knew it quite well. ‘I Like It Heavy’ by Halestorm was one of the songs you played when getting ready for a night out or in the gym to hype yourself up. To put it simply, it made you feel like a badass. Fletcher connected his phone to the speaker and found the song so Bob could hear it.

You stood awkwardly with your drink, imagining you singing this in front of people and imagining singing it in front of the likes of Jake and Javy. And Bradley. Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from mouthing the words and bopping your head.

When the song ended, your three bandmates were staring at you expectantly.

‘What?’

‘You already know every word.’ Elliot pointed out.

You chanced a look at Bob, who was smirking. Yes, that’s right. Bobby Floyd was fucking smirking.

‘I think we should add it to the setlist.’ He said.

And by God, who were you to deny him when he was standing there looking like that?

‘Fine.’ You relented.

Bob sat back down at his drumset, and you downed the rest of your drink. The plan was to practise ‘Animal I Have Become’ one last time, but Elliot and Fletcher apparently had other ideas.

‘There’s an instrumental version on YouTube.’ Elliot said slyly.

‘And?’ You asked, even though you knew what they were getting at.

‘Sing it for us.’

Perhaps drinking an energy drink hadn’t been your brightest idea. The nerves you felt at the thought of singing this song were suddenly unbearable. Really, you didn’t know why. It was just a song. Sure, it was a gutsy song and would require you to push your voice to the breaking limit, but didn’t you do that anyway?

Fletcher took your silence as his cue to play the song. You stood before your microphone and closed your eyes, envisioning your most confident version of yourself. You took another deep breath.

And then you sang.

You left your body for the entire length of the song. As much as it had terrified you at first, singing a Halestorm song felt as amazing as listening to one. In a way, it had purged you of a lot of negative feelings. Almost like you’d been exorcised.

When the song ended and you opened your eyes, Elliot and Fletcher stood up. They clapped, clearly impressed. As much as you valued their opinions, it wasn’t their reactions you so desperately sought.

Bob gazed up at you from behind his drum set. His eyes weren’t starry like when he heard you sing, play guitar, or breathe; they were dark, all pupil. You knew lust when you saw it. It wasn’t a look you’d ever seen on your best friend before.

It also wasn’t something you planned on forgetting anytime soon.

Bob Floyd had never put this much effort into getting ready before. As he stood in front of his open closet, debating between two pairs of Carhartt pants, he wondered how women did this daily. And he didn’t mean it misogynistically. In fact, his first experience with outfit anxiety had given him even more respect for women because, boy, he was stressed.

And it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. Bob felt a little stupid that he was getting so worked up. The Dagger Squad had been on plenty of nights out. You’d seen him in navy uniform, flight suits, sweat gym clothes, pyjamas—everything, really. So why was he worried now?

The Dagger Squad hadn’t been on an outing since Juniper and Ivy, and earlier that day, Javy and Jake had suggested a night out. A real night out, they’d called it. Ultimately, this meant pre-drinks at The Hard Deck and then a visit to the newest nightclub that had opened Downtown.

Bob hated nightclubs. He’d step foot in maybe two his entire life, and both experiences had been memorable for all the wrong reasons. He was only going because you were going. And because Bradley was going.

It would be a cold day in hell when Bob let you go to a nightclub with Bradley Bradshaw without him.

In the end, he didn’t choose either of the pairs of pants he was going to wear. He went with black Dickies jeans, black Converse, a Smiths t-shirt and a black and white flannel to go over the top. He’d decided to wear contacts tonight because he felt his glasses messed with the vibe he had going on. He also threw on a baseball cap for good measure because wearing one made him feel less exposed.

He patted some Bleu de Chanel onto the sides of his neck and headed out the door. Sadly, he wasn’t picking you up tonight. You’d gone over to Nat’s house to get ready, and it was ‘girls only.’ Saying this, Bob wouldn’t be surprised if his two favourite ladies showed up with Mickey in tow.

He headed straight for the bar when he arrived at The Hard Deck. It was a busy night, and he waited patiently for ten minutes before being served.

‘Hey, Pen.’ He greeted.

‘Lieutenant Floyd.’ Penny smiled. ‘You look handsome tonight.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘Corona Extra?’ She asked, already reaching into the bottle fridge behind her.

‘Actually, Penny, can I get a Maker’s Mark? On the rocks.’

Penny blinked. ‘Bourbon?’

Bob flushed. ‘I’m partial to one from time to time.’

Penny scooped some ice into a whiskey glass and grabbed the bottle. It was way more than a double shot, but that was Penny all over. She treated The Daggers like family.

‘On the house, Bob.’ She grinned.

‘Thank you, Penny.’

‘A few of the guys are at your usual table.’ She told him. ‘And before you ask, she’s not here yet.’

Bob didn’t know how to respond to that, so he thanked Penny and was on his way.

Jake, Javy, Mickey, and Reuben were all sitting in their usual corner. When Jake saw Bob approaching, he wolf-whistled, causing everyone else to stop their conversation and look too. Bob hated this kind of attention and didn’t know what he’d done to earn it. It wasn’t like they’d never seen him out of uniform before.

‘Turns out our baby on board isn’t much of a baby after all.’ Jake said.

Mickey was squinting at Bob in a way that made him uncomfortable. ‘There’s something different about you, Bobby.’

‘The hat?’ Javy offered.

Reuben sipped his beer. ‘It’s the glasses.’

Mickey’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. ‘Hey, that’s it! I’ve never really seen you without them.’

Bob’s neck and cheeks suddenly felt extremely hot. He wished somebody would change the subject. ‘Where’s Rooster?’

‘He’s picking the girls up.’ Jake told him. ‘Phoenix’s place is like, a block away from his.’

Bob smiled pleasantly. ‘Is it?’

‘You never been there?’ Javy asked.

‘Not to Rooster’s place, no.’

‘Well, they should be here any minute.’

Bob felt like he’d missed his mark big time. He sipped his bourbon, and Reuben eyed him curiously, like the all-seeing, omnipresent being that he was.

‘Not like you, Floyd.’

‘I wish people would stop saying shit like that.’ Bob snapped.

Reuben recoiled. ‘Damn. Sorry, man. Just an observation.’

‘No,’ Bob said, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry. That was out of line.’

‘Everything alright with you?’

‘Everything’s fine.’

Luckily, Bob didn’t have much time to feel like an idiot.

‘Heyyyyyy! There they are!’ Javy called, standing up.

Bob turned around to see Bradley leading both you and Nat towards the table with a hand on the small of your back. Once he’d finished being pissed off about this, he took in your appearance. Dark flared jeans, cherry-red platform Docs, a white tank top and a deep red leather jacket to match. Your hair was bouncy, like an 80s rock star, and you were wearing dark red lipstick.

‘Who is this absolute vision?!’ Mickey yelled.

Jake and Javy both wolf-whistled for the second time that night.

Bob knocked the rest of his drink back.

‘Well, you said it was a real night out.’ You reminded them. ‘So I pulled out all the stops.’

Jake looked Natasha up and down. Black skinny jeans with rips in the knees, cropped white tank, leather jacket with fringe, black cowboy boots—it was hard to miss the way Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

‘And Phoenix. You wear those boots for me?’

Nat rolled her eyes. ‘In your dreams, Bagman.’

‘Well, if you feel like stepping on anyone later,’ he winked. ‘You know where I am.’

‘Okay! After that weird remark, Y/N and I are going to get some drinks. Anyone want anything?’

The group gave their drinks orders. Much to your surprise, Bob asked you for a bourbon.

‘Maker’s Mark tonight, huh?’

You knew him well, and you knew that he only ever drank whiskey when you came to his place for movie nights some weekends or when he was drinking to get drunk. And when he was drinking to get drunk, it was usually because he wanted to be someone else for a while.

You gave him a look that said, ‘We’ll talk about this later’ before sauntering off to the bar with Nat. This was when Bob noticed that the back pockets of your jeans had big, red stars stitched into them.

All the guys noticed, but none of them said anything. Bradley, however, looked at you like you were something to eat.

Bob was beginning to get a bad feeling about tonight.

Seriously? How was Bradley supposed to look at anything but your ass in those jeans? Those red stars were basically a sign saying, ‘Look at me.’ He wanted to hate himself for it, but you were just so damn fine.

He’d intended to spend the night pissed at you, but he wasn’t supposed to let on that he knew about the band. And besides, even if he could, he wouldn’t have been able to stay mad at you. Sure, he was slightly hurt that you hadn’t asked him to join or at least tryout and that you thought he would call you lame, but maybe that was his own fault. Maybe he hadn’t done a good enough job of showing you who he really was, showing you that he wasn’t like the others. He was like you.

Tonight, he planned to change that.

Bob already had a bee in his bonnet, that much was obvious. He was drinking neat whiskey, for one, and he’d clearly chosen that outfit thinking it was something you’d find attractive. Bradley had no qualms with Bob Floyd. They were friends; they’d had each other’s backs on the mission (and always would), and Bradley had actually been to a couple of local gigs with Bob since being permanently stationed in San Diego.

Bradley wouldn’t say that the tension between him and your best friend had started after your impromptu shopping trip—the moment Bradley considered as the start of your friendship. No, the tension was new, and it had only begun in the last few weeks. It was because Bob had finally figured out how he felt about you.

Bradley liked Bob, but if there was a chance in hell you might feel the same way about him as he did about you, Bradley wasn’t going to turn you down for Bob’s sake.

Sorry, Bobby.

You and Nat came over, each with a tray of drinks in hand. After handing them out, Natasha took the seat between Bob and Jake, leaving you no choice but to sit next to Bradley.

DING DING DING! FIRST POINT TO BRADLEY BRADSHAW!

Bradley smirked. He could feel Bob’s eyes burning holes into him as he raised his glass, and you clinked yours against it. Bradley knew you and Nat had already had a couple of glasses of wine while you were getting ready. He knew this because you’d been unable to look him in the eye when speaking to him all week, and now you were staring him down. It was almost as if you were making up for lost time and making the most of your courage.

‘What are we toasting to?’ You asked.

Bradley glanced at your lips. What he wouldn’t give to smear that pretty lipstick, to have it stain the collar of his shirt and the skin underneath.

‘To us. For making it through another week.’

‘To us.’

You sipped your vodka lemonade, eyes never leaving his. Bradley shuddered.

‘Alright,’ Jake announced. ‘Eclipse opens at eleven, so we’ll head over just before. Don’t wanna be standing in line for hours.’

Everyone seemed happy with this plan. Night clubs weren’t really Bradley’s scene, but he’d find a way to have a good time. If you hadn’t come tonight, though, Bradley definitely wouldn’t have come either.

Mickey, who sat opposite, stole your attention. The two of you started talking about a movie Bradley hadn’t watched, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind that much. He was just happy to listen to you talk.

It was nearly 10:30 PM when Javy suggested a round of shots to see you until you got to the nightclub.

‘The last time we got shots, Nat threw up in my rose bushes and Bob had to put us both to bed.’ You recounted while Nat groaned in embarrassment.

Bradley glanced at Bob, who seemed to be stuck somewhere between a laugh and a wince. Bob caught your eye, and Bradley watched you have an entire conversation just through eye contact.

There was definitely more to that night than what you’d just said, and you and Bob were now caught up in one of your private, nobody-else-exists moments.

SHOCKING TURN OF EVENTS AS BOB FLOYD EVENS THE SCORE BY EARNING HIS FIRST POINT OF THE EVENING!

‘I say shots are a great idea.’ Bradley announced.

Nat—who was on Bradley’s other side—leaned in close to whisper: ‘Why, so you can put her to bed this time?’

Bradley’s mouth twitched, but he refused to give himself away. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Trace.’

Javy and Bradley went to the bar to order eight tequila shots, along with lime wedges and salt.

‘Shit’s about to get messy.’ Javy remarked as they headed back over to the table.

‘Why’d you say that?’ Bradley asked.

‘Every messy night I’ve ever had has started with tequila.’

Bradley tried to shake off the feeling that maybe Javy was right, but even he had to admit that the night felt loaded—heavy like a black stormcloud full of rain.

‘Not too late to turn back.’ Bradley offered.

‘Yeah,’ Javy chuckled. ‘It is. It’s already in motion.’

Back at the table, everyone picked up their shot glasses.

‘To a messy night.’ Javy toasted, grinning like a madman.

Everyone downed their shots. You looked at Bradley as you slammed your glass down and picked up your lime wedge, sucking on it desperately. He had no idea where the confidence came from, but instead of putting the salt on his own hand after discarding his own lime, he put it on the back of yours and licked it off in one stripe.

Shock and mischief danced in the depths of your eyes as you followed suit.

Did that really just happen? Bradley thought he might pass out.

The nightclub—Eclipse—was a walkable distance from The Hard Deck. You were almost there when Mickey grabbed your arm, pulling you to the back of the formation. Both Bradley and Bob spared you a cursory glance as you were practically dragged past them. Nat appeared at your other side, eyes almost bulging out of her head.

‘Y/N.’ She whisper-screamed. ‘What the actual fuck just happened in there?!’

Mickey might as well have rubbed his hands together like an evil villain.

‘You guys saw?’

‘Uh, yeah?’ Nat was looking at you like you had three heads. ‘Everyone saw.’

Your stomach churned. ‘Everyone?’

‘Well, not Jake and Bob.’

You breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Ok, that’s good.’

‘Why? ‘Cause you’re still deciding?’ Mickey asked.

You were starting to hate the person you were becoming. ‘I’m starting to feel like a cheap whore.’ You admitted. Nat and Mickey both laughed, but you were being deadly serious.

‘You’re far from a cheap whore.’ Nat said. ‘You could make six figures working three days a week.’

Now it was your turn to laugh. God, it felt good to laugh. You loved your friends so much.

‘Let me put it like this,’ she started, all business now. ‘What you just did with Bradshaw—can you picture doing it with Bob? Does he make you wanna do sexy, daring shit like that?’

You didn’t have a simple answer to this question. You thought of Bob, playing drums, all sweaty and hot. But Bradley didn’t need to be doing anything. Merely breathing, he was sexy. So, did that mean your answer was no?

‘What she’s asking is if looking at Bob, you know…makes your body react.’ Mickey said, winking.

You and Nat both stared at him vacantly.

‘This honorary girl membership is only gonna get you so far. I’m not revealing all that stuff with you!’ You considered this for a moment. ‘But for the record, it has a few times.’

‘But not as much as Bradley?’ Mickey questioned.

‘Not as much as Bradley.’ You agreed.

‘And do you believe he has a thing for you?’

The man in question had his arm around Reuben’s shoulder. They were walking together, laughing at something Javy was saying in front of them. God, what an amazing thing it would be to be loved by him and to feel his light from all sides.

‘There’s something there, but how serious is he? Would it be a one-time thing?’

Natasha shook her head. ‘You really, really do not know him at all if you think that.’

‘Well,’ you pouted, displeased by the accusation. ‘Maybe I ought to get to know him, then.’

Mickey waggled his eyebrows. ‘Oh yeah? What’s that code for?’

You and Nat groaned in unison. ‘For fuck’s sake, Fanboy.’

The line for the club wasn’t long at all, thanks to Jake’s idea to get there slightly early. It had only been open for a month or so, and it still had that shiny, new feel. There were multiple different rooms spanning two floors, but The Daggers opted to stay in the main room—at least for now. Jake, Reuben and Nat went to the bar, leaving everyone else to find a table. It was getting busier by the second, but Mickey was able to snag a booth right next to the dancefloor.

The booths were C-shaped. You scooted right along to be in the middle, giving you a clear view of the dancefloor. Since you were nowhere near drunk enough to get up and dance yet, you shrugged off your leather jacket and made yourself comfortable.

Bob slid in next to you, and Bradley came around and sat on your other side. Your belly did a weird flip as you tried to work out who you were supposed to be talking to. Mickey—who was trying so hard not to laugh that he actually looked constipated—clambered in next to Bob.

‘So,’ he chirped. ‘This is nice, huh?’

You glared at Fanboy, wondering if he was close enough that you could kick him underneath the table.

‘Perfect.’ You grimaced, voice dripping with acid.

When Nat came over, she looked at Bob, then at you, and finally at Bradley. Bob was talking to Javy, so he didn’t notice her amused giggle.

‘Alright,’ Jake announced loudly, his signature smirk plastered to his face. ‘Drinks were two-for-one, and shots were a dollar each! Happy hour!’

‘Damn,’ Javy exclaimed. ‘They might as well be giving them out for free!’

There were three trays on your table, carrying sixteen drinks and twenty-four shots. You could feel the hangover you were going to have tomorrow morning already.

‘That’s…a lot of drinks.’ Mickey pointed out, sounding slightly terrified.

Jake clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You don’t say.’

Nat handed you one of your vodka lemonades, and you took it gratefully, desperate for something to do with your hands. It shouldn’t have felt as awkward as it did sitting between Bob and Bradley, but you knew too much for it to feel normal now. Hell, you felt too much for it to be normal.

The music—which wasn’t anything you knew—blared loudly enough that the bass pounded in your chest like a second heartbeat. It was warm, warmer, still being sandwiched between two men you had crushes on, and your drink went down far too quickly. When Bradley reached over for his drink—a dark rum and coke—his leg brushed against yours, and you ended up staying that way. It was meaningless contact, but it was enough to make you dizzy.

‘Alright, let’s get a couple of these shots gone.’ Reuben suggested. ‘If we wanna get a few more drinks while happy hour is still on, we’re gonna need to clear some space.’

The idea of buying more drinks when there were this many on the table already seemed ridiculous, but you knew once everyone got riled up, the ridiculous ideas would sound like the smartest ones.

Everything was a good idea when The Dagger Squad were out drinking together.

Whoever had decided on the shots had gone for a pick-n-mix approach. There were Jagerbombs, B-52s, fireballs, sambuca shots, lemon drops and a green one that you vowed not to touch.

‘What are you gonna have?’ You asked Bradley.

His eyes scanned the table before landing on a Jagerbomb.

He held one out to you. ‘You want one of these too?’

Shaking your head wildly, you said: ‘Absolutely the fuck not.’

Bradley laughed at your terror. ‘Why?’

‘The last time I drank Jagerbombs was in college, and I woke up with bruises on my face.’ You explained, wincing at the memory.

‘Okay, you’ve gotta give me a little more than that.’ He said.

‘Well, I vaguely remember being upright, and the next minute I was on the floor. I didn’t know I was on the floor until my friend Emily picked me up. She had to flirt with the security guard so we didn’t get kicked out.’

‘I can’t imagine you doing something like that, Y/CS.’ Bradley replied. He seemed to have gotten even closer to you without realising. ‘You’re very reserved.’

‘Not always.’ You winked, feeling bold.

You allowed Bradley to sit in stunned silence for a moment or two while you nudged Bob and asked him to pass you a fireball. He was ever so happy to oblige, even being so bold as to grab one for himself. The two of you downed your shots and grimaced in unison, sending you both into fits of giggles.

‘Not like you to do shots with us, Bobby.’ You said, nudging him playfully.

Bob offered you a lopsided smile. ‘It’s good to let loose once in a while.’

‘There’s letting loose, and then there’s going off the rails.’ You tried to sound lighthearted, but you were genuinely concerned about his out-of-character behaviour. ‘Neat whiskey and shots are generally considered off the rails for you, Bob.’

Bob huffed. ‘Why does everyone seem to think I’m boring? Or that I’m a kid or something.’

You frowned. ‘Nobody thinks that. It’s not a bad thing that you’re more reserved.’ This was all very troubling. ‘When have you ever needed to get drunk to prove something?’

‘I’m not trying to prove anything.’ He insisted. ‘I just wish people would stop treating me like I’m twelve years old or second-guessing me whenever I do something that’s ‘not like me.’’

The two of you appeared to have reached an impasse.

‘Okay, well, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I was just looking out for you.’

‘I can look out for myself just fine.’

You knew he didn’t mean it to come out the way it did, but it had, and here you were, pouting. He had never taken that tone with you, never said anything of the sort, and he most certainly hadn’t ever downed two shots in quick succession while you gaped at him like a moron. Before you could come up with a response to his remark, he had turned back to Mickey.

Alright then. If that was how it was going to be…

‘You know what, Bradley. I think I will have a Jagerbomb.’

Bradley—who had been filming Javy and Reuben’s terrible dancing—cocked an eyebrow sexily.

‘You sure about that, sweetheart?’

And if this didn’t sound like a challenge…

‘Oh yeah, I’m sure.’

Bob didn’t know this song. He didn’t know it, and he didn’t like it. What he did like, however, was watching you dance to it. You and Nat were in the middle of the dancefloor with Reuben and Javy, pressed against each other, dancing in a way that he supposed could have been considered sexy.

Actually, yeah. It was very sexy.

He hadn’t moved from his spot in the booth. He hadn’t even needed to move when you decided you wanted to get out and dance because you simply climbed right over him. And now he was expected to get on with his life as normal as if you hadn’t been straddling him. Sure, it was brief, but it was still etched into his brain.

Bob wanted to blame his ungentlemanly thoughts on the liquor, but he knew that deep in his subconscious, he’d been thinking about you in this way for a while now. And he’d be damned if there hadn’t been a few occasions where he’d started to believe you were thinking of him in the same way. Band practice the other night was just one example. Of course, there was a high chance that he was making it all up inside his head, but for once, he doubted that.

He saw the way you looked at him.

But then, there was also the small yet incredibly inconvenient matter of the way you looked at Bradley.

Bob would be inclined to argue that Bradley had a much better chance than he did. I mean, you’d basically all but confirmed that you saw Bob as someone who needed to be looked out for. Hell, he couldn’t even do a shot without someone asking him if he needed to see a head doctor.

You weren’t loud and boisterous, and most of the time you felt more comfortable around Bob than anyone else on the planet, but you were still a lot more adventurous than he was. You needed someone who could do both—quiet, but audacious when he wanted to be.

And, that was just Rooster all over, wasn’t it?

‘No Scrubs’ by TLC came on and you and Nat went wild in the way girls do when a song they like comes on when they’re drunk. Bob couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. You were singing the lyrics at each other at first, but then—much to everyone’s amusement—you and Nat started singing them at Jake.

‘'Cause I'm looking like class, and he's looking like trash, can't get with a deadbeat ass!’

To be fair to Jake, he stood and took it like a man. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the attention, especially where Nat was concerned. Bob was starting to think there was something behind their friendly rivalry, but neither of them would ever admit it.

When the song ended, you were giddy and out of breath. Mickey was now on the dancefloor with Javy and Reuben, so there was an empty spot next to Bob. You took it, reaching for your next drink.

‘You good?’ He asked.

‘Perfect. I’m not gonna ask you if you’re good, because you don’t need me looking out for you.’ You said indignantly.

Bob rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, now.’

As you sipped your drink, you watched him. Impressively, you drank half of it in one go, and then you reached up and took his hat off. He felt his hair stick up with static.

‘What are you doing?’ He asked, half expecting you to put it on.

‘This…’

You turned the hat around and put it on him backwards, adjusting it with narrowed eyes, trying to get straight.

When you were done, you sat back and admired your handiwork proudly.

‘There.’ You grinned. ‘Much better.’

‘And the purpose of that was…’

‘I like a guy in a backwards hat.’ You shrugged.

And with that, you were back off to the dancefloor with Nat.

It had just gone midnight. Bradley was positively buzzed from all the shots he’d had, but he didn’t want to get too drunk. Why would he want to forget such an amazing night, or miss it while it was still happening because he was paralytic drunk? The idea didn’t appeal to him, so he’d been drinking water for the last half hour.

‘Bradshaw!’ Jake yelled from across the table. ‘Put that down!’

‘No can do. I don’t feel like being carried home tonight, Seresin.’

Jake smirked knowingly. ‘Nah, you wanna be the one doin’ the carryin’, don’t ya.’

Hangman’s southern accent always got thicker when he was drunk, a fact that Phoenix found extremely endearing. Earlier, she’d asked him to say loads of different sentences, just so she could hear it. Bradley had every intention of asking her about this when they were sober.

Bradley raised his glass of ice water in response to what Jake had said, mainly for Bob’s sake. He was starting to feel a bit bad for the guy, but to be fair to him, you kept giving him reasons to believe he had a chance. The thing with the hat? What the fuck was that? For all Bradley knew, maybe Bob did have a chance, and he’d been reading this whole thing wrong.

You and Nat were supposed to be getting more drinks, but you seemed to have disappeared. Mickey was nowhere to be seen as well. Lately, it seemed like the three of you were in on something that nobody else was privy too.

Bradley made the excuse that he needed the bathroom, and instead went searching for you. Eclipse had multiple different rooms and bars, including a lounge where you could go to chill and cool off for a while. You weren’t in there, you weren’t outside on the patio, and you weren’t in the other room on the bottom floor which was playing 80’s hits. The vibes and the music in there seemed much better, and he made a mental note to check it out later. Maybe he’d take you with him and get you away from the rest of The Daggers.

Bradley climbed the stairs to the second floor, narrowly avoiding a couple making out against the wall. Up here it was open plan, a big bar against the far wall, and a white dancefloor with little lights peppered across it. The outside edges were lined with white leather benches with pillows scattered across them, and there were candles burning in glass sconces on the walls above. It was as though he’d walked into an entirely different club.

Up here, the DJ was playing Lana Del Ray, and you and Nat were in the middle of the dance floor (obviously), swaying along and singing. Mickey was at the bar, chatting up a girl, so Bradley didn’t go over to him. He indulged himself and watched you move for a while, hypnotised by the mere sight of you. The lights made you look ethereal.

He’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad in all his life. Bradley was seriously debating interrupting you, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it, to the entrancing sight in front of him.

Turns out, he didn’t need to. Nat had her back to him and you were in front of her whispering something into her ear when you spotted him. You started smirking while you finished whatever you were saying to Nat. Then, you kissed her cheek and you both started heading over to him.

Nat didn’t stop, she walked straight past him towards the stairs, patting his shoulder as she walked past. It felt like a ‘Go get ‘em tiger’ kind of gesture.

Bradley looked down at your face. You were gazing up at him, blinking prettily. How was it possible for someone to make blinking pretty? Your cheeks were flushed and you were smiling dopily at him. Clearly, the shots had hit you too.

But it was the red lipstick he couldn’t get past.

He reached up and brushed your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and you nuzzled your face into his palm. The moment was full of possibility. It was as if time had stopped, and as cliche as it sounded, like nobody else existed except from you and Bradley. He liked it this way, wished it was like this all the time.

The song faded, and ‘Dancing In The Moonlight,’ started. Bradley leaned down to tell you how much he loved this song, and in response you took his hand and led him out onto the dancefloor. Bradley almost couldn’t believe his luck. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but the Jagerbombs and the smile on your face gave him all the confidence and permission he needed to let loose. He probably looked like a gazelle on ice, but your movements were graceful and carefree. Aside from being up in the air, this was the best he’d felt in a long time.

The two of you danced for a while. At one point, you looped your arms around his neck and danced close to him, like you’d done with Nat. He couldn’t hide his disappointment when you suggested going down to get another drink.

You linked your fingers through his. ‘Relax!’ You called over the music. ‘I’ve still got a few more dances left in me.’

With that, he reluctantly followed you downstairs. You didn’t let go of his hand and he didn’t let go of yours, which he took as a good sign. In a way, it felt like you were staking your claim on him, and that was definitely something he could get behind.

Back in the main room, everybody was up dancing, even Bob. It was nice to see, but also strange. Kind of like seeing a bird in an aquarium.

‘Sex on the beach?’ Bradley whispered into your ear.

You scoffed playfully, turning to face him properly. That look on your face—God.

‘What did I say about asking me to dinner first?’ You remarked.

Bradley licked his lips. ‘Bet. How about next weekend?’

You pulled your head back in shock, and then let out a delighted laugh. ‘Wow, Bradshaw. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting that.’

‘Well,’ he said, closing the distance again. ‘Clearly I haven’t made my intentions clear enough, then.’

You glanced down at your feet having lost your nerve a little. ‘I guess not.’

‘Well, let me make it clear for you. I like you, and I’d love to take you out.’

Shyly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. ‘You know what, I’d love for you to take me out.’

Bradley beamed. ‘Well then, it’s settled.’

‘I guess it is.’

You gave it half an hour before dragging poor Nat off the dancefloor and outside onto the patio. There were lots of people out there smoking, talking and getting some air. Personally, you’d never needed fresh air more in your entire life.

‘Between you and Bradshaw, I get dragged all over the place.’

‘Sorry, Nix. I gotta talk to you.’

‘I know.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I left you alone with him for an hour and all of a sudden he’s buying everyone drinks.’

‘Was it him who bought that bottle of prosecco?’

‘Yep. It’s a big ass bottle.’ Nat emphasised.

You groaned. ‘Bob is gonna be so upset.’

Natasha grabbed you by your shoulders and gave you a good shake.

‘What was that for!’

‘You like Bradley, Y/N! Your body gets a reaction, you said it yourself.’

‘Nothing happened, but we’re going out for dinner next weekend.’ Your stomach twisted at the thought, nerves already getting the better of you.

‘That’s great! So why don’t you look happy?’

‘I am happy.’ You told her, because you were. ‘I just feel guilty. I like Bobby, I really do. And I guess in the process of figuring my head out, I’ve messed with his a little.’

Nat made a sympathetic noise. ‘Then you need to be honest with him, and put it right. Don’t mess with his head any more.’

‘Okay.’ You nodded. ‘I can do that.’

Arm in arm, you headed back inside and to the dancefloor. It was getting late, and you got the feeling everyone would be heading off soon. Even if they weren’t, you would be. You were starting to see double, all truth be told.

You had every intention of giving Bradley another dance, but then you saw Bob. He was standing by the bar, and when you locked eyes with him, he nodded towards the lounge. He didn’t look sad, but Bob could be very stoic when he wanted to be. If he didn’t want anyone knowing how he felt, he could hide it well.

There was a vast array of different shots on the table still. You knocked another fireball back for good measure, before following after Bob.

You sashayed into the lounge like nobody’s business. Bob had claimed a loveseat in the corner with the intention of setting a few things straight, but now he finally had his chance, his mind was coming up short.

‘What’s up?’ You asked, taking a seat next to him.

Bob sipped his umpteenth drink, more for something to do with his hands than anything else.

‘Bobby?’

Bob set his drink down on the table next to him and cupped your face in his hands. He didn’t give himself time to think about it, he just pressed his lips to yours. He could feel your shock, but he didn’t let up. Instead, he put a hand on the top of your thigh, finally starting to touch you in all the places he’d been wanting to for months. You were kissing him back, but not with the passion he’d been expecting.

He thought you wanted this too.

You pulled back and laid a hand on his chest. It was gentle, but it told him everything he needed to know.

‘Y/N.’ He said hoarsely. ‘I-’

And then you were kissing him, and he could taste the cinnamon and the whiskey in your mouth. The sober, sane part of his brain knew that this wasn’t coming from a good place, that you were both too drunk to be making moves like this, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pull away and it didn’t seem like you were going to either.

The whole world started and ended with your lips on his. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough.

When you eventually pulled away again, your lipstick was smeared.

‘Fuck.’ You gasped. ‘Bob, I’m sorry.’

‘Why are you saying sorry?’

‘I didn’t think this through. This shouldn’t have happened like this, I have things I need to talk to you about.’

Bob felt sick. ‘What things?’

‘God, lots of things really. I’m such an awful friend!’ You leaned over, elbows on your knees and head in your hands.

Bob had no idea what was going on. This was the most confused he’d ever been in his whole life, but he had a nagging feeling that Rooster had something to do with this. Goddamn Rooster. Always in the way.

‘I gotta go. I can’t do this.’ You stood up and ran your hands through your hair. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need to go home.’

‘Y/N, wait. You’re drunk, let me call you a cab, I-’

‘Bob, you deserve better than me.’ You choked back a sob. ‘You deserve so much better.’

And with that, you were running out of the club. Bob was seriously panicking. What if you got hurt? You’d had enough liquor to kill a horse, and to make matters worse, you were upset. Bob sprinted out of the lounge and back to the rest of The Daggers. They were all back at the table, finishing up their drinks.

He grabbed Nat’s arm. ‘Did you see Y/N?’

All it took for Nat to figure out what had happened was a quick look at his mout, which Bob was sure was smeared with your lipstick. She ran out of the bar with her phone in hand, Mickey hot on her heels. Bradley was staring at him, prosecco glass dangling from his limp hand. Clearly he’d figured it out too—it didn’t take a genius. Bradley looked ruined, and the guilt and anxiety were starting to creep in.

It was moments like these were Bob needed his best friend most. He needed your advice, your comfort and your presence. But how could he ask you for comfort and advice when you were both in the same situation?

Bob was starting to feel a little like the universe was playing some big, cosmic joke on him.

He should’ve listened to his gut instinct about tonight.

A/N: The long-awaited third part! Honestly, the ending of this physically hurt! I have so much planned for the next part, including the first gig. I'm really looking forward to sharing it.

Taglist: @dearsnow@avythef1addict (tagging my fav online friend who singlehandedly gave me the courage to start writing this fic again!)

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callsign-mayhem · 6 months ago

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this makes me so happy!!!🥹

updated: 07.01.25

ᯓ ✈︎ series

Like I Can (❤❅✘): after yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay. (@sometimesanalice)

Fresh Starts (❤❅): after leaving your abusive ex husband with your two kids. Tackling motherhood by yourself is a challenge. Getting to know a certain neighbour might lift some of the weight off of your shoulders. (@roostersbby69) (warning: mentions of abusive/toxic relationship)

Out of Touch (❤❅✘): it’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realise he’s finally grown up. (@dearsnow)

The Ironies of Life (❅): a few weeks after breaking up with her long-term boyfriend because he wouldn't commit to marriage and kids, Naomi finds out that she's pregnant with his baby. (@tip-top-cloud-surfer)

Hotter Than Texas (❤): Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare. (@tongue-like-a-razor)

new! Is It Working For You? (❤❅✘): Rooster has had his eye on you all week at work, and now you’re at the Hard Deck looking too good to be true. (@roosterforme)

new! And They Were Roommates (❤❅✘): Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is the perfect roommate. He tidies up after himself, he picks up your favourite snacks when he does the grocery shopping, and he’s just a little bit gorgeous…falling for him was inevitable. (@starryeyedstories)

new! Heartbreak Feels So Good (❤❅): Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily, he doesn't have to wait too long. (@callsign-mayhem)

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callsign-mayhem · 6 months ago

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take my breath away (b.b)

Part two of the sequel series for Heartbreak Feels So Good!

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 1.7k CW: Heavy makeout sesh, use of Y/N

FIND THE ORIGINAL SERIES HERE!

Bradley struggles to keep his feelings in check during a morning training session. A stolen moment in the hangar leads to an intense confession—and an unexpected interruption from another member of The Dagger Squad.

The early morning light cut through the hangar, an energetic hum building as the base slowly came to life. The air was warm, and the scent of metal, jet fuel, and saltwater hung in the breeze. Pilots chattered animatedly while their jets were prepped and fuelled for the new training course being undertaken that day.

Bradley stood by his jet—his pride and joy—watching you move across the tarmac, adjusting your helmet with sharp focus. Of course, you were suited up in your flight gear, looking every bit the professional.

A force to be reckoned with.

You could’ve been wearing a bin bag and he’d have found it endearing, but this was his favourite look on you. It was hard not to stare, but he caught himself before anyone noticed—your relationship still wasn’t out to the rest of The Dagger Squad.

You moved almost effortlessly—graceful but with an edge that demanded attention.

Bradley wasn’t sure why it was hitting him harder this morning, but seeing you there—standing tall, the sun catching the contours of your face through the visor of your helmet—he realised just how hard he’d fallen for you. It wasn’t just your skill in the cockpit or the way you carried yourself. It was more than that. It was how you made it seem as if nothing could shake you, even though he knew it was sometimes an act.

What with your traumatic breakup and newfound love with Bradley, you’d been doing so well lately. He’d been patient, expecting things to be complicated. While there’d been a few bumps—as every new relationship had—it had been much smoother than he’d expected. Loving you was easy, and being loved by you was even easier. It was like standing in the sun and feeling the warmth from every angle. Your adoration made Bradley feel like he could take on the world.

Hondo appeared before him, his usual lazy grin on his face.

‘Earth to Rooster.’ He teased. ‘You good, man?’

Bradley smiled easily. Since the Uranium mission, he’d gotten very close with Hondo.

‘I’m good. Who’s flying first?’

In response, Hondo moved to the side so Bradley could see you climbing into the cockpit of your jet.

God, that flight suit.

The world around you became a blur as the jet roared to life. Bradley swallowed hard, trying to focus on his own pre-flight checks which were happening around him. Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you fly, but today something was different. The admiration he had for you was more prominent than before. So much so it hurt his chest.

You were incredible, gorgeous, and talented, and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

And the suit. Well, it clung to you in all the right places.

Your jet roared to life, engines screaming. It was almost too much. Even as the training began, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He was in the air not long after you. The flight was intense—tight manoeuvres, precision testing, pushing the boundaries—another day at the office. But all through it, Bradley couldn’t help but steal glances at your aircraft. He was entranced by the sound of your voice over the comms. You were a natural, graceful and fierce all at once, and it made something inside of him tighten.

Once the training session eventually wrapped up, the jets landed in quick succession. Engines winded down, and Bradley took a moment to breathe, watching as you climbed out of your plane. It was hot as Hades, and he was severely dehydrated. As he climbed out of his own cockpit, he thought about taking himself off to get a drink, but then you met his eyes amidst the small crowd, and everything seemed to slow down.

Bradley didn’t wait for the crowd to clear. He moved fast, cutting across the runway and heading straight for you. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached you like it was the first time he’d ever been this close. Before he could even process his actions, he had a hand on your arm, gently pulling you towards one of the empty hangars, away from prying eyes.

‘Y/N.’ He breathed, voice low but full of urgency. ‘I need to talk to you.’

You blinked up at him, caught off guard but not unwilling. There was something between the two of you waiting to be broken open.

Bradley stepped into the shadows of the hangar, and you followed.

The only thing he could focus on was closing the distance.

Bradley didn’t give you much chance to speak before pulling you towards him, his lips crashing onto yours. This kiss was sudden, fiery, a release of everything he’d been holding back. It was messy and urgent at first, but it deepened as he held you tighter. Gently, he threaded one hand through your hair while the other rested on your back, pulling you into him.

For a moment, you were both lost in its intensity. Bradley’s thoughts were a swirling blur, centring on how much he wanted you, how much he could feel this thing building between you two, and how good it felt to act on it now that Elijah was gone.

He pulled away just enough for the two of you to catch your breath, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was rough as he struggled to say the words: ‘You’re incredible, Y/N. Do you know that?’

You smiled. ‘I think I do now.’ You breathed, voice soft but full of warmth.

Bradley’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then, with a little smirk, he kissed you again—slower this time, more controlled. Although it still carried that same intensity. His hand came to rest on your hip, pulling you close enough that the space between you no longer existed.

Nothing existed outside of this moment.

The sounds of your heartbeats and the urgent kissing were drowned out by the hum of engines on the runway. That sound, this place, and you. It was an equation that could only equal home to Bradley.

When you eventually pulled away again, Bradley’s swollen lips curved into a smile. ‘You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.’

You looked up at him. ‘Me too.’

‘I don’t wanna go back out there.’ He admitted.

You giggled almost deliriously and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You’d never gone this far before. Bradley couldn’t believe how great it felt to have you in his arms, legs tightening around him. He wanted to feel you tightening around him in other ways, but this wasn’t the time or place.

You kissed him again, tongue dipping into his mouth. He wanted to taste you everywhere. The thought of it alone had him groaning into your mouth.

He was so wrapped up in you that when you suddenly jumped down and stepped away from him, his eyes remained closed for a beat or two. It happened so fast.

When he did open his eyes, he wished he hadn’t.

‘Well, well, well.’ Fanboy smirked. ‘What do we have here?’

You and Bradley immediately stiffened. The playing teasing in his voice was unmistakable, but so was the surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting this.

‘Didn’t think anyone would catch you two in the act, huh?’ He laughed, brow raised.

Bradley rubbed the back of his neck, face flushing. ‘Fanboy,’ he croaked, voice still hoarse from the burning intensity of that makeout session. ‘We don’t want this getting out yet.’

Bradley shot you a look to make sure you were okay. He was shocked to see an amused grin on your pretty face.

Fanboy couldn’t help himself. His grin widened as he took a step back. ‘I knew there was something between you two,’ he said dramatically. ‘The way you look at each other—it’s like a romance movie, but it sucks ‘cause I never get any popcorn.’

You laughed, the sound echoing through the hangar and Bradley’s whole body. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to do a lot more than kiss you.

‘You’re not gonna say anything, are you?’ You asked.

Fanboy placed his hand over his heart. ‘Say anything? How could I not? This is big news!’ He teased, voice rising an octave or two in excitement. ‘You two are so cute together. Y/N, I was waiting for you to figure out that Rooster has been head over heels in love with you for months.’

Bradley shot Fanboy a warning look. ‘Mickey.’

Fanboy held his hands up. ‘I’m just kidding. But not really.’ You raised a brow, and Fanboy started back peddling. ‘Kidding about telling everyone. Not about the other thing.’

He winked, and Bradley didn’t have the heart to be upset with him when you laughed again. Fanboy tilted his head, studying the two of you as if trying to gauge the seriousness of the relationship.

‘You two are good for each other,’ he said, his tone softer now but still teasing. ‘You know that, right? Like, I was waiting for the ‘big confession’ or whatever, but honestly? This whole vibe? It’s perfect. I just wanna see you two kiss again.’

Bradley snorted with laughter, quickly trying to cover it up with a cough. You bit your lip to hold back a laugh as well, but it was impossible.

‘Alright, you’ve had your fun.’ Bradley said, shaking his head with a grin. ‘But if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I swear—’

‘I won’t, I promise. I’m not that cruel.’ Fanboy was holding his hands up in mock surrender. ‘But seriously, if you guys need help making this official, I have the perfect playlist…’

You and Bradley shared a quick, amused glance, and the world felt lighter for a moment. This was how it was going to be.

‘Thanks, Fanboy,’ you said. ‘But I think we’ve got it covered.’

‘One more thing.’ He grinned. ‘Next time you’re gonna make out, put a tie on the door or something.’

And with that, he winked at you, heading back onto the runway. You took a deep breath, glancing at Bradley, who was trying to suppress a smile. ‘Well,’ you said, leaning closer to him. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’

Bradley shrugged with a grin, his eyes sparkling. ‘Maybe we should keep the making out to a minimum at work? Or at least find a more private place?’

‘I think you're probably right. How does my place, after work sound?'

Thanks for reading the next part of the sequel series for heartbreak feels so good! It was just something small to start the year off, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Taglist:

@crowdedimagines @sadgirlgiselle @sleepy-writersblock @lovelyygirl8 @my-therapist-hates-me @primroseluna @eloquentdreamer @sgt-barnesveins @daybleedsintonightfa11 @constructivejudger @honey-and-bi

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callsign-mayhem · 8 months ago

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too sweet (part 1)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader Word count: 6.4k CW: Use of Y/N, occasional swears

As Natasha's lifelong best friend, you've always known her crew was off-limits, especially one cocky aviator with a killer smile: Jake "Hangman" Seresin. But when you take a writing retreat to sunny San Diego, a break that was supposed to help you escape distractions, you find yourself sharing late-night conversations, beach bonfires, and undeniable chemistry with the one person you've been strictly forbidden to date.

This is a multi-part fic.

As soon as your plane touched down in San Diego, you were switching flight mode off and texting your best friend. It had been almost six months since the last time you saw her, and your patience had worn thin not long after the second week of her being gone. Now, you were practically bursting with excitement. As a result, you’d become one of those annoying people who got up as soon as the seatbelt sign went off, standing in the aisle with your carry-on even though the steps for the plane hadn’t even been brought onto the runway yet.

Once you eventually got off the aircraft, you ran as fast as possible with a backpack and a carry-on suitcase, not stopping until you reached passport control. Once past that particular hurdle, it was onto baggage claim. Being a full-time writer afforded you much more flexibility and freedom than most other people, especially your best friend. This was why you usually visited her and not the other way around. Since it had been so long since you last spent time together, your ticket to San Diego was one way. It seemed as though Nat was setting up shop in Fighter Town for a while, and with your latest manuscript almost ready to be sent to your editor, you were taking the opportunity for a much-needed change in pace and scenery.

The airport was busy, and you were swarmed by people from your flight trying to spot their bags on the carousel. This included the screaming set of twins and their dishevelled parents seated two rows behind you.

They were still screaming, and you were briefly reminded why you didn’t want to have any children yet. Not that there was any chance of that happening, anyway. You’d been single for so long that it was a basically a personality trait at this point.

When you spotted your suitcase, you ran to meet it and hauled it off the conveyor belt less than gracefully. The arrivals lounge was an assault on your already overloaded senses, and dragging two suitcases wasn’t making it any easier. But when you got closer to the exit, you saw Nat’s black Suburban parked right out front, and all the stress dissipated.

When you barelled out of the doors and onto the sidewalk, she jumped out of the car with a huge, uncontainable grin. Her hair was freshly cut and styled, and her skin glowed beneath the Californian sun.

North Island looked good on her.

Bags be damned, you ran into her arms, almost knocking her over. She still smelled of citrus and vanilla, which was to say that she still smelled like her family home where you’d spent most of your childhood. You’d had a couple of boyfriends in and just after college, but their hugs had never lived up to Natasha’s. There was nothing more comforting to you in the entire world.

‘Lieutenant Trace in the flesh!’ You squeaked.

‘Y/N Y/L/N, bestselling author. It truly is an honour.’

Reluctantly, you let go so you could take her in. ‘Those FaceTime calls just weren’t cutting it anymore.’ You told her, smiling. ‘You look good, Nat. Better than good.’

‘I think this place agrees with me.’ She replied. ‘You look like you need a holiday.’

‘Wow, thanks.’

She laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know.’

She glanced at your luggage with a raised brow. ‘Let’s get what appears to be everything you own in the trunk, and then we’ll get on the road. ‘Kay?’

‘I know it looks like a lot, but you know I like to be prepared.’

You took the smaller case, and she took the bigger one. ‘For what? Moving states?’

‘My ticket is open-ended.’ You explained. ‘Once I get my manuscript in next week, I’ll be free as a bird until my editor is ready to shatter all my hopes and dreams.’

Natasha eyed you somewhat disbelievingly. ‘You’re saying you might be staying a while?’

‘If that’s okay with you, yeah.’

‘Let’s see how long it takes me to get sick of you.’ She jibed.

‘How do you know I won’t get sick of you first?’

‘Because I’m a delight.’

On the way to Nat’s apartment complex, she pointed out landmarks and told you about the latest happenings. You were mostly caught up since you spent every other evening on FaceTime, but it was always different when you caught up in person. The two of you always remembered other details you’d forgotten about.

The drive from the airport to Nat’s apartment on Island Avenue took just over fifteen minutes, and before you knew it, you were being shown to the guest room. She’d moved in a little over a month ago, after being told she was being stationed in Fighter Town indefinitely along with some of her crew from a super secret mission she’d been involved in. Nat told you more details about her work than she probably should because even if you had someone to tell, you wouldn’t. Your friendship wasn’t like most other female friendships, where you think your secret is safe until it’s not. The two of you trusted one another wholeheartedly because there genuinely wasn’t any reason not to.

The guest room was as tidy and organised as the rest of the apartment. With Autumn just around the corner, she’d adorned the double bed with pumpkin throw pillows and a dark red teddy blanket you immediately wanted to crawl under. You were thoroughly exhausted, but you knew neither of you would be going to sleep anytime soon.

‘I put my desk in here,’ she told you. ‘Since I knew it would be your room. That way, you can write while I’m on base.’

Even after all these years, things like this still warmed you. ‘Thanks, Natty.’ You said, reverting to your childhood nickname for her. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘You hungry?’

‘Practically wasting away over here.’

‘I thought you might say that. Wanna go out or order in? I can take you to this amazing restaurant I went to with some of my team a few weeks ago. It’s right by the beach.’

‘Sold.’

An hour later, you were sitting in the outside area of a trendy new steakhouse. You were so hungry after your flight that you doubted you’d have noticed if the food had been awful. Nat enjoyed her brisket immensely, so it couldn’t have been bad.

‘So,’ you said, around a mouthful of food. ‘Tell me more about this new squad. Better than the Black Aces?’

‘They’re so different, they aren’t comparable. But they’re pretty awesome.’

‘Any of them particularly awesome?’ You asked, waggling your eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes playfully. ‘No, no, and no. Even if there were, I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t date navy guys.’

‘I still don’t understand that.’

‘I don’t like to shit where I eat,’ she said simply. ‘Or rather, I don’t like to let men shit where I eat since usually they’re the ones doing the shitting.’

You nodded in understanding. ‘Am I gonna get to meet any of the famous Daggers?’

‘Yup. Tonight.’

Your stomach dropped. While you were definitely up for meeting them, you were a little nervous, especially since it was happening so soon.

‘Tonight?’ You echoed.

‘Friday nights, we always go to The Hard Deck after work. I’ll come back to the apartment first, change and then we can head over together.’

You hoped you were doing a good job of hiding your nerves. Nat would never let you live them down.

‘So not only am I meeting the famous Dagger Squad, but I’m also gonna experience the highly acclaimed Hard Deck on the same night.’

‘Don’t bother wearing socks, ‘cause they’re gonna be knocked right off.’ Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

‘The novelty might have worn off for you, but this is big for me. I listen to you talk about these people and that bar day in and day out without understanding. I’m finally getting to put faces to names my best friend doesn’t shut up about. It would be like you stepping into one of my books and meeting all the characters.’

‘Okay, when you put it that way, I understand why you’re excited. But you gotta promise me one thing.’

She was suddenly all serious. ‘Anything.’ You replied earnestly.

‘Do not let Hangman charm you. I’ve already told him you’re off limits, and I’m saying the same to you. He’s bad news.’

You knew all about Hangman from Nat’s stories. There were only a few where he was one of the good guys. As a writer, you were all too familiar with the good girl falls in love with the bad guy trope, and as tantalising as it was to read about, you knew better than to fall for it in real life.

At least, you’d like to think so.

‘You don’t have to worry about that. He sounds like an asshole.’

‘You say this now, but he’s a charmer, and you’re vulnerable.’

You threw a chip at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean no offence when I say this, but it’s been a while since you dated anyone, Y/N. I’m not saying you’re naive, but I know he’ll lay it on real thick just to mess with me, and I don’t want you to fall into his trap and get hurt.’

‘You think he’d pretend to hit on me just to get under your skin? This guy sounds even worse than I thought.’

‘You can never be too sure what his intentions are. Safer to assume that he has an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, thanks, Nat. Now I’m really nervous.’

‘You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to yank on his leash if he starts barking too loudly. And Rooster is always looking for an excuse to take him down a peg.’

In true best friend style, Natasha had emptied your suitcase in search of the perfect outfit for you to wear to The Hard Deck. Thankfully, she’d settled on one of your favourites: a black velvet romper with bell sleeves covered in little silver moons and stars. You didn’t have to debate whether to wear your hair up or down because Nat had already decided for you and was almost done curling it. You applied a thin layer of lip gloss in front of her vanity mirror while she worked her magic. You’d gone easy on the makeup since you often felt self-conscious when wearing a lot.

‘Okay, done.’ She announced, running her fingers through the curls.

She’d done a great job, better than when you did it yourself.

‘Thanks, Nat.’

‘You’re welcome. You look drop-dead gorgeous.’

In her skinny jeans, white tank and leather jacket, you thought Nat looked like a sexy biker chick, and you told her so.

‘Anyone would think you’re in love with me.’

‘So what if I am?’

You decided to get an Uber since neither of you wanted to stay sober to drive the other home. You spent the whole journey fretting that the Daggers wouldn’t like you. Maybe they’d think you were boring because you weren’t in the Navy. Perhaps they’d think being a writer wasn’t a real job (it wouldn’t be the first time someone had told you that). Or worse, maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough to be friends with the highly decorated fighter pilot who was your best friend.

By the time the Uber driver pulled up in front of The Hard Deck, your stomach was tied in knots, and you were gasping for a shot of something strong to give you a confidence boost. Despite your overwhelming sense of anxiety, you were able to appreciate how incredible The Hard Deck was. Adorned with lights and overflowing with all different kinds of people, it was the kind of place that felt almost dreamlike. Music spilled out through the open doors and windows, and the surrounding area thrummed with a near-tangible electric current.

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you headed into the bar, and you were grateful for the physical and moral support. Inside, it was a hubbub of activity. The wraparound bar—which had at least five people behind it—was surrounded by people. The crowd was at least three people deep; as soon as a bartender finished serving someone, there was another to take their place. You’d done a brief stint as a bartender just after college, and while you’d never worked somewhere quite this busy, you had a pretty good idea of how they were feeling.

A Bon Jovi song blared from a jukebox you couldn't locate. A large pool table and a mounted dart board stood in the far corner of the bustling bar. This appeared to be where Nat was leading you. A group of aviators—some still in uniform from the day, some not—stood around the pool table.

Your heart was in the base of your throat. It was beating erratically.

‘Ready?’ Nat asked, flashing you an encouraging grin.

‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

When you reached them, those who had been immersed in their game stopped, and the others let their conversations die out. All eyes were on you, and you briefly wondered if something was on your face.

‘Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my squad.’ Each one beamed at you as they swarmed around you to shake your hand or hug you. ‘For better or worse.’ Nat said.

The tall, handsome one with the moustache and the Hawaiian shirt you knew to be Rooster playfully poked Nat in the ribs. ‘Hey, you know it’s for better.’

‘Depends on the day.’ She shrugged.

‘Y/N,’ Rooster smirked. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

He had to reach down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. He smelled of sandalwood and sun lotion, and you’d already forgotten Nat’s reasons for not wanting to sleep with her squad members.

‘All good things, I hope.’

Before Rooster could respond, a strapping blonde guy with a movie-star smile cut in. ‘Better than good,’ he said with a southern drawl. ‘I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.’

The squad collectively rolled their eyes. ‘This is Hangman.’ Nat sighed.

He held out his hand, and you took it. ‘Jake Seresin.’

‘Pleasure.’ You replied.

When you finally worked up the courage to look into his eyes, you saw chaos swimming in the blue depths. He smiled at you as if he knew what colour underwear you had on, as well as all your darkest secrets. He was disarming, and you’d always made a point to steer clear of men like that.

‘Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.’

‘Alright, Bagman, that’s enough.’ This voice belonged to one of the shorter guys with a buzzed head and a much nicer vibe. ‘You’re gonna scare her off.’ Instead of hugging you or shaking your hand, he kissed your cheek, and you felt a surprised blush creep across your cheeks. ‘I’m Mickey, callsign Fanboy. Welcome to North Island.’

‘Thanks, Mickey. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘This here is Payback, but you can call him Reuben. I’m his backseater.’

‘Hi,’ you grinned, starting to find your feet and your confidence. ‘I hear you’re quite the pilot.’

Reuben glanced at Nat, apparently pleasantly surprised. ‘Damn, you say nice things about us behind our backs?’

‘Not all of you.’ Nat shot a pointed look at Jake. ‘But yeah. Don’t sound so surprised.’

Coyote—AKA Javy—was less intimidating than Jake, but you could tell they were privy to something you weren’t. Your mind flicked back to the conversation you’d had with Nat earlier, and you were starting to understand what she meant. Maybe they had some kind of awful bet on who could bed you first. Either way, you planned to be cordial but not engage with them any more than you had to.

Last but not least, you were introduced to Bob, Nat’s backseater and perhaps the team member she spoke most highly of. You’d been desperate to meet him for months, partly because Nat had told you he had a really funny side to him once he came out of his shell and partly because you wanted to thank him for keeping your best friend alive.

‘Y/N, this is Bob Floyd. My WSO.’

In one hand, he held a half-empty cup of peanuts. The other, he held out to you.

‘Bob, it’s an honour to meet you. Thank you for looking after Natty. I didn’t need to meet you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather be in the sky with my best friend.’

Bob blinked at you behind his wireframes, dumbfounded by your kind words.

‘Uh, thanks, Y/N. I’m just a Weapons Systems Officer. Phoenix is the hero, not me.’

‘Don’t put yourself down. Your job is just as important, if not more so. I know she won’t mind me saying that.’

‘I agree,’ Nat said. ‘I’ve told you before, Bobby; you gotta give yourself more credit.’

Bob flushed. His eyes remained fixed on his peanuts. ‘Well, thank you. It sure means a lot.’

With the initial introductions out of the way, you could relax. Payback and Fanboy headed to the bar to get a round of drinks in while you made yourself comfortable at one of the tall tables. Rooster and Bob joined you and Nat while Coyote and Hangman resumed their game of pool. They’d been playing doubles with Payback and Fanboy, and it was their turn.

You found yourself staring at Hangman as he leaned over the table and expertly sank three balls—one after the other—into the pockets. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but he was gorgeous. Walking, talking Texan Ken dolls weren’t usually your type, but it was impossible to deny Jake’s appeal. Maybe it was because Nat had explicitly told you not to look that you found your eyes wandering back to him, even as Rooster launched into a story about a recent mission. Didn’t something always feel more endearing when you weren’t allowed to do it?

When Payback and Fanboy reappeared, each with a tray of drinks in hand, you could finally refocus your attention.

‘Tequila shots!’ Fanboy gestured with bravado.

‘And some beers to chase them with.’ Payback finished.

You giggled, reaching for your shot. There was enough for everyone to have two, and you made a mental note to get them both back. Hangman and Coyote sauntered over at the mention of hard liquor. It was difficult to ignore Jake when he came to your side of the table and reached over you for his shot. Was he making a point, or were you hyperaware of him after your warning from Nat?

‘What’re we toasting?’ You asked.

Rooster’s eyes twinkled as he raised his near-overflowing shot glass in your direction. ‘To old friends and new.’

The whole squad echoed his toast and downed their shots. Bob coughed and sputtered, and Fanboy smacked him on the back encouragingly, only making him cough more. Your stomach ached from laughing, and you weren’t even drunk yet.

One shot of tequila, and you were already wondering if there were any apartments for rent close to North Island.

As the night progressed and you got tipsier, you found yourself playing some kind of game with Hangman. The rest of the squad seemed totally unaware of it, for which you were incredibly grateful. If Nat or Rooster caught so much as a whiff of attraction between the two of you, you were sure they’d haul your ass home and sit you on the naughty step. You’d only known Bradley for a few hours, but you’d hit it off immediately. You understood why he and Nat were so close. He’d already adopted some kind of brotherly responsibility for you, and apparently—before your arrival—he and Nat had made a pact to protect you from Hangman at all costs. Super dramatic, but you were sure it was warranted.

Of course, this approach had the opposite effect. You found yourself drawn to him for reasons known only to the almighty. Nat and Bradley had said (not in so many words, but still) ‘fuck around and find out.’

And here you were, fucking around and finding out.

He was standing at the dart board nursing a whiskey on the rocks. Payback was taking his shot while Fanboy egged him on from the sidelines. It seemed that the two pairs had a mission to thrash each other at various bar games, and you sincerely hoped that Payback and Fanboy won at least one round of something by the end of the night just to see the smug grin wiped off Jake’s pretty face.

As for the game the two of you were playing… Well, you’d started that. He’d caught you staring at him after the second round of shots, and the look he’d given you in response had been incendiary. More for something to do with your hands and mouth, you’d taken a sip of your cocktail (courtesy of Bobby Floyd) and looked away again. You’d looked up again a little while later and caught him staring. You’d raised your eyebrows, and in response, he took a long drink of his whiskey before mouthing ‘bet.’ Thus, your little drinking game was born, and you hadn’t even had to speak to each other.

Whenever one caught the other staring, the guilty one had to take a drink.

You were more than tipsy now, so you silently promised not to look at him for a while lest you end up on the floor before 10 pm.

‘So, Phoenix tells us you’re about to finish another book.’ Bradley said, bringing you back to Earth.

‘Yeah, I’ve just gotta mess around with the ending, and then it’ll be good to go. That is until my editor tears it to shreds.’

‘Did you always want to be a writer?’ Bob asked.

He’d come out of his shell significantly since you walked into The Hard Deck earlier that evening. The two shots had helped since he wasn’t a big drinker. They’d gone right to his head, and his cheeks were stained pink. Bob was sweet and kindhearted and had a knack for making you feel seen and heard in the conversation. You’d never met a man who was so attentive before, and you got the feeling that Nat and Bradley had an agenda, what with the knowing glances they shared whenever you went off on tangents about music and different novels you’d both read.

Bob was perfect. Bob wouldn’t break your heart. Out of all the guys in The Hard Deck, he was the one who made the most sense to you.

But Bob didn’t have you shifting in your stool whenever he looked at you as warmth pooled in the bottom of your tummy.

‘For as long as I can remember, yeah.’ You responded. ‘Most people thought I was insane for choosing a liberal arts major in college. They’re notorious for leading you absolutely nowhere, but I was persistent, and now here I am.’

‘Not many people are successful enough to live off their writing, even if they get published.’ Nat added proudly. ‘She’s a one-percenter in the writer world.’

‘You know, I’ve actually read one of your books.’ Bob said, smiling down at his Corona Light, suddenly shy.

This was the kind of moment you always dreamed about as a kid: meeting someone and finding out they already knew your name because they had a copy of one of your books at home.

‘Seriously?’ You leaned forward. ‘Which one?’

‘Fourth of July.’

You were taken aback. Fourth of July wasn’t the book you were best known for, but it had been your favourite to write. It was literary fiction, and few people had the stomach for it. After publishing it, your agent practically forced you to write something on the opposite end of the spectrum, more for sales than anything else.

‘What did you think?’

‘I thought it was extremely provocative. You know the kinds of books you think about for months when you’re finished?’

Your smile was so big, your face ached with it. ‘Yeah, I know the ones you mean. You really think that?’

‘I do.’

‘I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m so happy.’ You gushed. ‘So I’m just gonna buy you another drink.’

Bob chuckled. Nat and Bradley shared another knowing look. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to. Besides, it’s my turn to get a round in.’

You floated up to the bar on cloud nine and made the order in such a daze that you didn’t notice Hangman slide up next to you.

‘I’ll be paying for this round, Penny.’ He drawled.

Your head snapped up. He still had that shit-eating grin on his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it or kiss it off.

‘I can pay. It’s my turn.’ You insisted.

Jake waved you off. ‘You’re the honoured guest.’

‘And it’s my turn.’ You repeated sternly. ‘Plus, I’m buying Bob an extra drink as a thank you.’

Jake recoiled slightly, a bemused grin on his face. ‘For what?’

‘He gave me some great feedback on one of my books. The one I’m the least proud of. Nothing in the world beats that feeling, so I want to thank him.’

‘Trust Bobby to have read your work before knowing who you are. I bet he’s mighty pleased with himself.’ Jake ruminated. ‘He’s not the one trailing behind for once.’

You frowned deeply. ‘That’s not very nice. Bob seems like a great guy. He probably doesn’t seem like it to you because his ego isn’t the size of North Island.’

Jake laughed. ‘And you think mine is?’

Penny was smirking to herself as she poured all the drinks, and you had a feeling she’d probably back you up.

‘I think it’s probably quite close. You and Bob don’t speak the same language, so you think he’s beneath you.’

‘Come on, I don’t think he’s beneath me. You’re making me sound like a dick.’

No, actually, I think you manage that quite well on your own.’ You quipped.

Jake staggered back, clutching his chest, feigning hurt. You laughed despite yourself. His energy was contagious like that.

‘So, are you gonna let me pay for my round?’

‘How about I pay for the round, you just pay for Lieutenant Bookworm. You know, to save your conscience.’

‘Fine,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘But I’m gonna get the next one. I’ll just wait until you aren’t paying attention.’

Jake glanced at your lips so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked.

‘Good luck with that, sweetheart.’

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He’d disarmed you yet again, and you disliked feeling so helpless. It was almost as if you were at his mercy, and he knew it. Jake Seresin didn’t need any more power than he already had.

He paid Penny and took the tray of drinks over to the table. You hadn’t ordered any shots because you wanted to remember some of this night, and it was probably a good idea because you could no longer walk in a straight line. Jake went right back to the dart board, and you took your seat at the table.

‘What was that about?’ Nat asked, voice laced with concern.

‘He paid for the round, even though I asked him not to.’ You took Bob’s beers off the tray and set them before him. ‘I got these, though.’

‘Thanks, Y/N.’

Bradley’s eyes were boring holes into Jake’s back. ‘It’s rare for him to do something nice without an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, that’s easy. His ulterior motive is getting in Y/N’s pants.’ Nat growled.

‘Okay,’ you said with a sigh. ‘Let’s change the subject. I’m sick of talking about him already.’

Although Bob didn’t speak as much as everyone else, you felt he noticed more than they did. You could tell he saw right through you. You just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to your best friend.

You felt truly alive, as if the electrical current surrounding The Hard Deck had been injected directly into your veins. Your first meeting with The Dagger Squad had gone incredibly well, and they’d exceeded your expectations tenfold. It had only been one day, and you already felt like you’d made some friends for life. You were beginning to understand why Nat looked so healthy, why she seemed to be glowing from the inside out, the amazing people, the energy of North Island, the beautiful weather. These things separately were better than any multivitamin, but together? You felt as though you’d drunk some kind of magical elixir that would permit you to live forever.

You wouldn’t mind living forever if you got to stay here permanently.

Was it too soon to be thinking this? Did you care?

Penny had called last orders, but nobody was ready for the night to end. Your exhaustion had worn off long ago, and thankfully, you were experiencing a rather mighty second wind. Somebody had suggested going back to Nat’s for some more drinks. Reuben’s place was the biggest—a three-bed detached house right on the outskirts of North Island—but nobody wanted to Uber that far, so you settled for Nat’s. Her apartment was the second biggest, spanning two stories. You knew she’d received a considerable inheritance a few years ago, and paired with her Navy money, she was well-off. It helped that her finance-managing skills were impeccable. She’d been the one to help you invest and save money from your first book deal when you’d wanted to blow it all on an expensive trip to New Zealand.

It took two Ubers to get you all to Island Avenue. You carpooled with Nat, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. Mickey pulled the short straw and had to jump in with Jake and Javy. To be fair, they weren’t bad guys; you just knew their type and weren’t accustomed to it.

Back at Nat’s, everyone was assigned a job. You and Nat set about turning all the fairy lights on, putting more chairs out on the generously sized balcony and finding throw blankets for those who got chilly. Bradley was connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and queuing songs since he insisted he had the authority in that particular department. Bob was hovering, suggesting more songs for him to queue, arguing that he had just as much authority as Bradley did since they had similar taste in music. Reuben and Mickey went through Nat’s drinking/board game selection, picking out a few to keep everyone occupied. Dangerously, Javy and Jake had declared themselves bartenders. On the way back, they’d stopped at an off-license and grabbed a wide selection of booze to add to what Nat already had stocked in her kitchen. They’d set themselves up on the kitchen island and were attempting to make homemade cocktails.

You and Nat found a moment of solitude in her room when she was searching for some sweats to give Mickey, who was still in his uniform.

‘So it’s going pretty well, huh?’ She smiled. ‘You like the squad?’

‘Hell yeah, I do, they’re a riot.’

She opened her wardrobe door, smirking knowingly. ‘Who’s your favourite?’

‘Don’t have one.’ You said, a little too quickly.

‘I know you’re lying. Just tell me.’

While she rooted around in her wardrobe, you gave it some thought. You didn’t have a favourite because you liked them for different reasons. Bob was genuine and intelligent, and he understood your writing almost as well as you did. Bradley was vibrant and interesting, and he made you feel safe, as if you could be yourself unapologetically. Same with Mickey and Reuben. You liked the fact that Javy was sure of himself without coming across too cocky (mostly).

And as for Jake. Well, you didn’t have the words to describe how you felt about him.

Nat poked her head out of the walk-wardrobe. ‘Well?’

‘I like them all, Nat. But if I had to choose, it’d be Bob.’

She smiled. ‘I knew it.’

‘Knew what?’

‘You have a thing for Floyd. And he has a thing for you.’

‘Jesus Christ, Natty. No. Not like that.’

She’d finally found sweatpants and a T-shirt that she didn’t mind lending to Mickey. When she came out of the wardrobe, she wore a cunning expression.

‘You wouldn’t date him? I think he’s perfect for you.’

How were you supposed to tell her that the reason you wouldn’t date him was because Jake caused a swarm of butterflies in your stomach? How were you supposed to tell her you were crushing on the only guy from her whole crew she’d warned you off?

There was only one answer to that: you couldn’t.

‘I didn’t come here to date. Why would I start something here that I can’t finish? I’ll be back in New England before the leaves change.’

‘Everything is always so poetic with you. But you’re right,’ she relented. ‘Bobby is someone you have a quick fling with, anyway. He’s too nice, and I don’t think that’s his thing.’

You gestured as if to say, ‘there you go.’

‘Shall we get back out there and see what havoc those two dickheads are wreaking in my kitchen?’

‘Let’s do it.’

It turned out that they were wreaking a lot of havoc. There were open spirit bottles everywhere, and the kitchen island was lined with shots. Not only that, but a selection of cocktails surrounded the bottles. You didn’t know what any of them contained, and honestly, you were scared to ask.

‘Ladies,’ Javy said. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Something that’s not gonna put me on my ass after two sips?’ You offered.

He looked at the selection of drinks with a pained expression, and you laughed.

‘I’m guessing that’s not on the menu?’

‘Er, no…’

‘Okay, give me something sweet.’

Jake stepped around the island and came right up to you. He was so cocksure that it should have been cringe, but it was just incredibly sexy.

‘Here you go, darlin’.’

Natasha and Javy laughed, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. He was drunk, but there wasn’t a hair out of place. If you hadn’t watched him throw drinks back all night, you would think he was sober.

‘Nice. Does that work on all the girls?’

‘I haven’t tried this one before.’ He winked.

‘I’ll take whatever concoction that has the most vodka in it. No whiskey.’

Your swift change of subject didn’t phase him in the slightest. ‘Anything you want.’

When he handed you a drink and your hands brushed, you had to glance around to see if Nat noticed. Because if she had, she’d have seen you linger for a moment before you turned around and walked away.

After a few particularly vicious rounds of Cards Against Humanity that had you all creasing on the floor, you took yourself off to the bathroom. Bob and Javy were talking about heading home. Bradley and Mickey had called dibs on Nat’s huge, L-shaped sofa for the night, and Reuben was trying to convince Nat to let him top-and-tail in her bed. While they were arguing, you headed inside and up the spiral staircase to use your bathroom without worrying about a drunken aviator trying to get in.

Or at least, that had been your plan.

You reached out to grab the door handle, and someone’s hand closed over your own.

‘Jake?’

You turned around, your back against the closed door, and he moved in front of you, his chest flush against yours.

‘What’re you doing?’ You breathed.

‘You’ve been givin’ me those come-to-bed eyes all night. I assumed that’s where you were headed.’

He leaned in closer, but not so close that you thought he was going to kiss you.

‘I thought you were suspiciously quiet when everyone was talking about sleeping arrangements.’

‘Mhm, so you were thinkin’ the same thing?’

You shook your head, but your smile was a dead giveaway. ‘Even if I wanted you to, you couldn’t spend the night here. Nat would crucify both of us.’

He leaned even closer. You could smell the liquor on his lips now. ‘Who says she has to find out?’

‘I can’t do that to her. It’s disrespectful.’

He regarded you thoughtfully. ‘Come on, Y/N. Take that halo off for one night.’

Bravely, you nudged his nose with yours. When he tried to kiss you, you pulled back. His expression was a mix between hurt and challenged.

‘I’ve been warned to stay away from you, in case I get hurt.’

‘Well, that’s funny,’ he responded, closing the space between you. ‘Because I’ve been warned to stay away from you so I don’t wake up and find my balls missing.’

You laughed. ‘Nat threatened to castrate you?’

‘That she did.’

‘I suggest you go home and sleep in your own bed then.’

His lips were basically touching yours now. ‘You don’t really want that.’

You reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck. The first kiss you shared with Jake Seresin was exactly how you imagined it would be. There was no softness, no easing you into it. One minute, you were talking, the next, you were tasting the whiskey sour he’d just finished. He had both hands on either side of your face and was kissing you more intensely than you’d ever been kissed in your entire life. It was raw passion and desire—you could feel how needy he was.

When he pushed against you, you felt his hard-on through his Levis, and a small whimper escaped your lips. You found yourself grinding against him, hoping for any kind of friction to ease the tightness in your stomach.

When he pulled away, you followed his mouth and kissed him again, but he stopped you soon after.

‘What was that about me going home and sleeping in my own bed?’

You groaned. ‘Don’t make this hard for me.’

‘You’re the one making things hard, sweetheart.’ He smirked.

‘I’m gonna go down first, and you’re gonna follow me a couple minutes later. That way, nobody will be suspicious.’

He shook his head in disbelief, but he was grinning like a fool. ‘You’re seriously not gonna let me stay?’

‘I told you, it’s disrespectful.’

‘So what, then? That’s all I get?’

You flashed him a devilish grin of your own. ‘For now.’

A/N: This is the first part of this series. There shouldn't be more than two or three parts. For some reason, I struggle to write one-shots; it always turns into a series...

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