#TGM fics

[thedroneranger]

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you. 

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.  

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance. 

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh. 

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship. 

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise. 

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform. 

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit. 

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited. 

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. 

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out. 

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen. 

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink. 

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends. 

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy. 

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

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[sappy-seresin]

Little Insomniac (J. Seresin)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x roommate!reader

Summary: You're dealing with an ongoing struggle to sleep, and Jake wants to help. Volume Two

Warnings: nothing really, just fluff.

Word Count: 3k

MY WORK IS ORIGNIAL AND IS NOT TO BE COPIED OR REPOSTED ELSEWHERE. Be kind and don't steal other people's writing, thank you.

Gif creds: @jakeseresins

Jake stirs awake before his alarm has the chance to go off. Yawning, he wipes the sleep from his eyes before groggily reaching for his phone to check the time. 5:45, it reads, though he has to squint to make sure because his eyes are still bleary from just waking up. He lets himself yawn one more time before moving to sit at the edge of his bed, a gentle grunt falls from his lips as he enjoys his first big stretch of the day, preparing his muscles for his usual morning run.

Knowing that he’ll have plenty of time to get ready once he’s back, he swaps his sweatpants out for a pair of running shorts and slips on a coordinating shirt. He turns toward his bedside table to grab his headphones, immediately sticking them into his ears and scrolling through his phone to find his playlist, “Run Like Hell.” His head gently bobs to the best of the music once he’d hit shuffle as he finishes getting ready by sliding his running shoes on.

He makes sure to walk quietly as he passes your room. You won’t be waking up for another hour, at least, and he’s not keen on giving you a wake up call sooner than you have planned. He accidentally woke you up one morning shortly after the two of you signed this lease and it resulted in a rather heated reprimand from a rather hungover, half asleep, version of you that came stumbling out of your room with a baseball bat thinking someone broke in. Since then, he’s intentionally light on his feet, careful not to cause another scene.

Jake smiles at the memory of your disheveled state. You were slightly tipsy from the night before with pillow lines on your face and an unruly bun knotted on top of your head as you incoherently scolded him for nearly giving you a heart attack. In that moment, all he could do was blink at you like a deer in the headlights, trying not to focus too much on the fact that all you were wearing was an oversized shirt that covered everything above your mid thighs, leaving your toned legs on full display.

His trip to memory lane is clouded with confusion when he notices light radiating through the hallway from the living room. He got home after you did last night and swore he shut the lamp off before retreating to his bedroom. His feet carry him toward the light, stopping in the tracks when he notices your form on the couch. You’re seated comfortably with your feet splayed on the coffee table balancing your laptop on your knees, wearing that same damn t-shirt.

“What’re you doing up? You never beat me,” he questions, pulling one earphone out and adjusting the volume on his phone so he can hear you. His presence had gone unnoticed by you, so the sudden question made you jump in, your head snapping toward him in shock.

“Jesus Jake,” your hand flies to your heart in an attempt to ease its rapid beating, a quiet “whew” falling from your lips as you compose yourself, tilting the screen of your laptop down so you can see him better. “Why do move so quiet? You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry darlin’, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just surprised to see you awake so early. Like I said, you never beat me,” there’s an apologetic smile etched onto Jake’s soft features. He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, his eyes never leaving you when he moves into the kitchen to grab a water bottle, promptly opening it and taking a swig. He stalks back to the living room, wordlessly offering you the water, which you gladly accept.

“Can you actually categorize it as beating you if I haven’t slept?” you ask after gulping the cool liquid down. You hand the bottle back to him, nuzzling deeper into your position on the couch when he moves to sit next to you, pulling his other earbud out so that you know you have his full attention.

He stares at you in confusion after processing what you said. Sure, your sleeping patterns have always been odd to him, but a night of not seeming at all raises several questions, “You didn’t sleep?”

“No,” you sigh, completely closing your computer and discarding it onto the coffee table in front of you.

“Why not? I thought you said that you're ahead at work and don't have to stress about extra planning?" He slings his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers barely brushing across the fabric of your t-shirt. He ignores the temptation to drop his hand from the coach so that it rests fully on your shoulder, knowing it's not the time to tease the butterflies awakening in his stomach at the faint smell of your perfume.

"I am," you affirm looking over at him, his close proximity has you feeling at ease with a hint of bashfulness. "It's not work. It's nothing like that really. I just-I don't know, I can spend the entire day exhausted but I'm wide awake as soon as my head hits a pillow."

Jake nods, pulling his attention away from you to ponder if there's anything he can do. After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he returns his gaze to you, taking notice of the prominent bags under your eyes. Your exhaustion coats your features, coating you with a dreamlike state while you zone out on nothing. He bumps your shoulder gently, stealing your attention back. "Is there something bothering you?"

Your head shakes in response, an involuntary yawn falling from your parted lips. You pull your legs up to your chest, hooking your arms around them to hold them in place, and it takes everything in Jake's power to not focus on the fact that the movement made your oversized t-shirt rise up. He clears his throat, returning his thoughts back to the conversation rather than continuing to mentally admire your effortless beauty.

"Okay," he hums, "Well, can you at least take the day off to let yourself rest? I'm sure you'd crash if you got in bed now."

"I can't," you groan, running a hand over your face in frustration. "We have a major meeting today, and I'm running it because ninety-five percent of the team can't manage to do their jobs." There's a sympathetic look sent your way which only adds to the helplessness embedding itself in your entire being. All your impending schedule brings you is an unshakable dread due to how desperately sleep deprived you already feel.

"Okay," he repeats, standing from the couch. "Well, since you can't get out of it today, what do you say we go grab breakfast at that coffee shop you like downtown? My treat. It's not sleep, but it's the best I can do unless you're willing to let me call your boss and telling him to postpone the meeting."

You blink at him, a lazy smile twitching at the edge of your lips. "You know you don't have to do that right? I'm a big girl and can caffeinate myself."

"I know, but I want to. Besides, there's no way in hell I'm letting your sleep deprived ass drive yourself around town today. The last thing this town needs is a delirious Y/n Y/l/n operating a vehicle. Now, how about you go put some pants on so you don't catch a public indecency charge?" He's shooting you his signature 'Seresin smirk' now, which you can't refuse, so you take his outstretched hand and let him help you up.

******************

A few days later, you're parked in that same position on the couch with your legs strewn over Jake's lap as the two of you watch the latest episode of 'The Rookie." There's been a comfortable silence in the room for awhile now, both of you fully engrossed in what's playing on the screen. Jake's fingers periodically draw circles against your clothed shins, a mindless habit of his that you've grown to love, while he makes a few side comments about Tim and Lucy's relationship Which you, being a lover of the slow burning couple, always agree with.

The episode comes to a close, leaving you both with anticipation for the shows continuation next week. Watching the Rookie became a weekly tradition when you became roommates after Jake came home from the bar one night, interrupting your peaceful binge watching. He made fun of the show at first, but forced you to restart it completely because he wanted to be completely caught up on everything it had to offer before deciphering whether or not he liked it. It took measly three episodes and he was hooked, which he denied by telling you he only watches it to bond with you. The way he lost himself in the screen, laughing and cracking jokes, was a tell-tale sign that he was hooked.

“It's late, I’m gonna head to bed,” Jake tells you after several unspoken moments, standing from his comfortable position and carefully repositioning your legs on the cushions. He stretches with a hefty yawn, running a hand over his face. You wordlessly watch him, enjoying the extra gravel to his voice that always comes when he's tired. “Want me to turn the lights off?”

“I'll get them. I think I’m going to be up awhile," you decline, straightening up to reach for the journal you left on the table before he came home.

“Still not sleeping?” He yawns again, watching as you get situated in a manner that tells him you are gearing for a long night.

You scoff, shaking your head in response to his question. One glance his way fills you in on the fact that he wants more of an explanation than that. "I've averaged maybe eight hours total this week, if you can count the baby naps my assistant lets me take during breaks. I swear I could run a marathon and still not be exhausted enough to encourage my body to rest."

“What about this? How about you let me take you to bed and we’ll try something new to help you sleep," he offers. Hope fills his green eyes momentarily before draining when you snort comically.

"Hangman, are you using my sleep deprivation as an excuse to get in my pants? I know I'm undeniably attractive, but that's a new level of low, even for Jake 'the heartbreaker' Seresin," you hadn't meant for the words to spill from your lips and regret them almost immediately. Yet, your raised eyebrows challenge him rather than showing any sign of lighthearted remorse.

“I’m going to blame your hostility on sleep deprivation instead of taking what you just said personally,” there’s a playful grin curved onto his cheeks as he peers down at the disdained expression you’re directing at him. “Now, come on grumpy, let’s get you some sleep,” You groan when he grabs your hands, shifting his weight so he can pull you off the couch. You fight against him, not wanting to let go of the comfortable position you’d fallen into. “Jesus, would you stop being a brat.” He can’t help but laugh as you continue making yourself dead weight to lessen his chances of dragging you off the couch. “Fine, two can play at this game.”

“What-JAKE,” an involuntarily squeal of surprise bubbles from your chest when he bends down, both his hands on your hips, and slings you over his shoulder effortlessly. He laughs as you smack against his back while he flicks the lights off, guiding the two of you toward your room.

“Put me down peasant,” you chant through your own fit of giggles. He simply shakes his head at your antics, carefully weaving through your bedroom before dropping you on top of your bed in a heap. Your giggles die down the longer you admire his lighthearted expression. You cough to try to keep yourself from ogling him like an idiot. It’s hard not to when he’s staring at you like you’re the creator of the jet planes he loves so much. “Couldn’t have given me a gentler landing?”

Jake rolls his eyes, feigning a scoff. “You asked me to put you down, and I put you down. Don’t go giving me a bad yelp review because you weren’t more specific, princess.” There’s a slight twinkle in his eye as the nickname flows off his tongue, smooth as silk. You mentally curse the involuntary heat rushing to your cheeks at the pet name, unable to suppress a bashful smile.

“Fair point,” you reply simply, fighting to keep yourself from spiraling at the sight of your roommate still towering over your splayed figure. He’d showered about an hour ago so his normally styled hair is laying against his forehead comfortably, the scent of his body wash ghosts your nostrils as he scratches the back of his neck, making it even harder not to swoon because he smells so good. “Are you going to tell me what your master plan to help me sleep is, or should I go ahead and preorder extra shots of espresso to keep me functioning tomorrow?”

Jake straightens up at the realization that he’d gotten sidetracked from his initial plan, a dubious grin plasters itself on his face as he moves to turn my bedroom light off, carefully making his way back to my bed in the dark.

“Jake, I hate to break it to you but simply putting me into bed isn’t going to help me sleep, if that’s all it took-what’re you doing?” Your question is left unanswered as he pulls the covers back on the side of the bed you’re not laying on, pausing to stare at you through the dark.

“I’m climbing in bed,” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, fully situating himself under the covers. You stare at him like he’s got two heads, not understanding how his master plan to get you to sleep involves him fully being in bed with you. You’ve had daydreams about curling up in bed with him, falling asleep to the even rhythm of his heart beat, but those were simply fantasies about the man you have a complicated crush on because, well, he’s your roommate. Of course, the two of you are close enough that you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on more than one occasion but it’s never been intention and those moments definitely haven’t occurred in a bed.

“You’re in my bed,” you observe, still frozen in place on top of the covers.

“Yes, Y/n, I’m in your bed. Now, would you stop being difficult? Get your ass up here and let me do my job,” his voice is gentle but holds a certain demand that has you obliging immediately. Climbing up next to him, you allow him to lift the covers so that you can slide under them. You leave a comfortable amount of space between the two of you, though it feels awkward with the heat radiating from his body. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What? You told me to climb in with you, so I climbed in with you?” An exasperated groan sounds from his side of the bed, earning an embarrassed blush from you, completely at a loss as to what you did wrong. “It’s not my fault that you’ve managed to leave out legitimately every detail of your master plan.”

In response, Jake’s arms wrap around your waist, immediately tugging you closer to him until you’re practically laying on top of him. “Get comfortable, sweetheart,” he murmurs simply, as if him holding you in your bed is a normal occurrence that shouldn’t have a fit of butterflies going rampant in your stomach. “Stop overthinking it and get situated.” His request comes after a few beats of you remaining frozen in the awkward position he pulled you into. You lift your head to meet his eyes, looking for affirmation that you’re hearing him right. When his hand trails over your face to brush your hair from your eyes, you suck in an audible breath, the gentle touch sending shivers down your spine as he leans his head close enough to yours that his breath fans against your face. “Let me hold you tonight."

"Okay," you breathe, carefully rolling onto your stomach. You shift yourself just enough to comfortably rest your head against his chest, fully allowing yourself relax into him as the faint sound of his heartbeat greets your ears. Jake's arms find a home around your waist again, a content sigh falling from his lips at the fact that you're fully nuzzled into him.

"Comfy?" His question is hopeful as he mindlessly draws comforting circles on your back, the simple movement paired with the comfort of his arms already causing your eyes to grow heavy.

"So comfy," you yawn, melting into him further. One of your hands fist his t-shirt while his find a spot in your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

"Good," he kisses the crown of your head, secretly feeling pleased by the way you're already fighting to keep your eyes open after seeming confident that he couldn't do anything to cure your insomnia. "Get some rest, sweetheart." You don't need his permission to sleep, but his words are the final thing you remember before slipping into a sweet slumber.

Jake knows you're out by the way your body grows a little heavier. Light snores fall from your lips every so often, warming his chest at the fact that you feel safe enough to let him assist you. While tiredness scratches the back of his eyes, he can't keep himself from observing your sleeping figure, a soft smile curves onto his lips at the adorable sight. As your roommate, he doesn't want to admit it, but he's dreamed of a moment like this from the second the two of you signed the lease for this place. Neither of you had been each others first choice in the roommate department, but after so long of roommates falling through, he proposed the idea and you accepted. You were friends back then, but weren't close enough for sharing an apartment to feel normal. Yet, when the time came to move in, your lives melted together seamlessly.

Jake's hand continues weaving through your hair, the act making him feel soft while you sleep soundly on his chest. He can't help but admire your peaceful features now that all signs of stress and exhaustion are erased from your face. You've always been attractive to Jake but right now, while you're snoring softly on his chest, he swears you're the most beautiful sight he's ever laid eyes on.

It's harder for him to continue fighting his own sleep the longer the peace of the night weighs on his eyelids so he carefully shifts the two of you into a more comfortable position. He holds his breath when you stir, but releases it when your head lulls back to place on his chest.

"Sweet dreams, pretty girl," he finds himself whispering, giving you one last glance before letting his eyes flutter shut. They snap back open when you mumble incoherently in your sleep, a sigh rolling from your parted lips.

"I love you Jake," the words are slightly slurred when they roll from your tongue, but Jake hears them clear as day. His eyes widen in surprise, never having heard you utter those words. He feels humbled by the unconscious confession, his heart swelling at the thought of the words holding an unshakeable truth.

******************

A/n: Another Jake fic while I continue working on Fawn Volume 2! I'm hoping to have the second part of Fawn posted before the week ends, I'm just finding that I'm pressuring myself with it a little because I love the storyline in my head so much that I'm scared to mess it up :')

Part Two

[newwritergirl]

Masterlist

Top Gun: Maverick

Starting over (ongoing)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Y/n once lived in hell, until she gets to know that there’s another life for her, far away from pain and tears.

Jake and Bradley living their bachelor life in a cozy house in Miramar, until a young woman and her baggage falls into their life.

TW: past abusive relationship, hurt/sick reader, angst, protective Jake and Bradley, maybe polyrelationship in the future

Chicago PD

On the brink (ongoing)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 |

When a case hits too close to home, is Jay able to keep it together or is he going to lose everything.

TW: best friend Jay, OC Lilian Grace Harper, asthma, protective Kevin, Adam and Antonio, Jay being and asshole at some time, friends to enemies to lovers, idiots in love, canon divergence!

[bradshawsbitch]

hi :) I’m kinda new to tumblr and tgm, do you have any tips to not get blocked by people bc I got blocked by one of my fave tgm blogs even though I followed their rules (age/not blank blog) and I’m kinda sad about it :(

Hi honey! I’m sorry you got blocked. I of course can’t speak for any other creators on here, but here’s some tips about what I look for/what I decide to block.

If a person has their age stated, that’s already such a relief! I, however, do sometimes choose to block people who doesn’t have a blank blog either. For me, I want my followers and readers to be interactive with me.

This site is a blog site, like your account and your page is your blog - which is why it’s called re-blog. Tumblr was big because back in the day, you had a separate website for your blog, and you had to click in on your fave blogs to catch up on their content - on tumblr, they put all of your fave blogs in one place, and you could now interact with your fave bloggers and put THEIR stuff that you liked on YOUR blog, which was so groundbreaking!

I tell you this because I feel like people forget, and some people on here might not even be old enough to remember what blogs even were.

So, when I see a blog followed me, I look for age, if they have that, I look at content. I block users who haven’t reblogged anything recently (say January this year is the last post, that’s a block for me), and if I’ve noticed said user liking my fics - but they haven’t reblogged ANY fic from ANY user on their blog that’s a block too. If you don’t want to even just click a button to reblog instead of like, I don’t feel like sharing my fics with you.

And that’s another thing, how you interact with the fic. It bothers me that fics are just expected to drop like it’s a fucking six second tiktok that you just throw together. The really good fic writers on here? They’ve been writing for years. They’ve put time and hard work into perfecting their craft. If you look at book series - how long do you usually have to wait for the next installment? Years, usually.

So asking an author for “part two?!?“ can and should be seen as extremely rude. Because for us that is not you telling us you liked the story, that’s you dissatisfied with the end and wanting more, without giving us anything but impatience and pressure. I’ve seen some people say they’re shy or don’t know what to write but imma be a cunt and say that’s such fucking bullshit.

It’s a fucking blog. Like??? “Cumslut96 wrote that they loved the descriptive language of the blowjob scene” how the fuck will I know who that is? Like I don’t go “that must be Lisa from down the street!”

And not knowing what to comment? Also bullshit - literally just write what the fic made you feel. And if it didnt make you feel anything, why’d you even want a part two? We’re literally creating shit for free (or in my case, I pay 12 dollars a month to give y’all gifs) and like the least you could do is leave a comment about what you liked. It’s what inspires and makes writers want to write more, there’s no shortcuts for that unfortunately.

Tldr; age in bio, reblog frequently with variation, treat your content creators with respect, and for gods sake don’t write “just here for the fics” in your bio 💀

[autumntouched]

Day 18 of Ode to Phoenix

It's Girl Scout cookie season! irl, not the fic lol

Summary: Natasha's having a bad day and looking forward to taking comfort in her Samoas. But she can't find them when she gets home

Pairing: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Warnings: Mention of period sex but nothing explicit

A/N: From my brain to the page with few edits.

Cookie Monster

Natasha hates flying the first day of her period. She can feel the changes in pressure more intensely and her cramps tweak a little sharper. Plus her tampon leaks no matter what absorbency it is. On top of that, being insatiably hungry makes her cranky. So she’s not in the best mood when Commander Hodgens calls her into his office to reprimand her for something she’s told one of the ensigns more than five times to watch out for during their hops. 

Instead of complaining about a hardheaded pilot, she keeps her face neutral and thinks about the last row of Samoas Girl Scout cookies waiting for her at home. The season of little girls hawking overpriced but addictive cookies outside of grocery stores is long past, but she’s kept this last box in the freezer. Today is the perfect day to enjoy the last of the batch and forget what a shit day it’s been. She’ll have two of the cookies when she gets home and the last three for dessert.

“Is that clear, Lieutenant Trace?” Hodgens says pointedly, watching her over his glasses like he suspects she is only half listening.

“I’ll remind the team,” Natasha promises. 

“Thanks,” he dismisses her. She nods and pivots out the room. Natasha skips the locker room shower and finishes off her work so she can head out as early as possible.

Bradley isn’t home yet. She dumps her boots, washes her hands, and heads directly to the freezer. But the cookies aren’t on the door where she remembers leaving them. There isn’t much in her freezer, a few frozen dinners and ice packs, but she moves everything around just in case.

No cookies.

Trying to remain reasonable, Natasha checks the refrigerator. Maybe she or Bradley moved them? Maybe Bradley moved them because she would remember if she had. They’re not in any of the cabinets. With growing suspicion, she rummages through the freezer and fridge again. No fucking cookies.

She puts her hands on her hips and forces herself to take a breath. There has to be a reasonable explanation for why the treat she’s been looking forward to all day is missing. But if Bradley ate her last five Girl Scout cookies, she’s going to murder him. 

Natasha stomps to the shower, hoping that washing off the day will calm her down some. Instead, she becomes even more angry that she’s not savoring the lingering chocolate and coconut on her tongue while the hot water washes over her. 

She’s fuming, planning Bradley’s untimely murder, when the subject of her violent fantasy opens the bathroom door. 

“Hey, Sash—.”

Natasha yanks back the curtain to confront him. His eyes go wide watching her stand before him entirely naked except for the soap suds dripping down her body and not at all interested in seducing him into joining her. “Did you eat my cookies, Bradshaw?” she demands, straight to the point. 

Bradley pales, but at least has the courage to open the door all the way. “Cookies?” But she can tell from his voice and the way he rubs his neck he knows exactly what she’s talking about.

“My Samoas,” she clarifies with deadly precision.

She can see the “oh fuck” bulb go off in Bradley’s head, but at least she will do him the courtesy of letting him own up to what he’s done.

“Patch—.”

“Don’t fucking ‘Patch’ me, Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw!” she practically yells. “Yes or no, did you eat my Samoas?” And because she is past angry and wants him to know just how big of a dog house he’s landed himself in, she adds, “Without asking me.” 

He gulps and takes a step back from her soaked fury. Water splashes out the tub across the floor. 

“Yes.”

“All of them? All five of my last cookies?”

Bradley looks like he wishes Maverick hadn’t found that F-14 Tomcat and left him to try his chances at survival in enemy territory. He probably had better odds. 

“I only meant to have one,” he pleads, “and I kept thinking just one more and then—.” He shrugs helplessly.

“And then you ate all my fucking cookies and didn’t even have the balls to tell me!” she finishes for him, her voice rising into a shout. “I spent this entire shitty day thinking about getting home to enjoy just a little treat only to find out that my boyfriend didn’t have the decency to leave something that was clearly mine alone!” 

She marches out of the tub. “What part of ‘this is the last box’ did you not understand! I even told you I was saving them.” 

Bradley holds up his hands as she advances on him. “I’m really sorry, Sash.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring them back!”

Her fists are curled in front of her, and she wants to punch him but she knows it won’t hurt him half as bad as she wants it to. And she’d rather not have to explain that she sprained her wrist and can’t fly because she punched her stupid boyfriend over cookies. But she wants to. 

“Can I make it up to you?” he offers. “I’ll go get you ice cream? Cheesecake? Tiramisu?” 

“If I wanted those I would have gotten them! But I didn’t. Because you know why?” He flinches. “Because I wanted Samoas! Can you go get me Girl Scout cookies? No!” 

She won’t punch him, but she will shove him. Natasha pushes him out into the hallway. Bradley doesn’t resist and stumbles back. She slams the door and locks him out then stomps back to the shower. 

“Sash,” he calls through the door. “Hon, I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to say to me until you’ve replaced my cookies!” she yells back and yanks the shower curtain closed. Is she overreacting? Maybe. But he shouldn’t have taken something he knew wasn’t his to finish. 

Of the two of them, Bradley is most likely to use the silent treatment when he’s upset about something but Natasha is not feeling her usual forgiving or diplomatic self when she gets out of the shower. 

Meekly, he tells her he’s going to pick up her favorite pasta for dinner. Because she’s angry, she tells him she needs to finish the leftovers. He’s already placed the order so he goes anyway.

And as soon as he’s gone, Natasha can’t help but notice how cute Bradley looks when he’s in the dog house. Part eager puppy and part groveling boyfriend. Committed to her fury, though, she fixes herself a plate of leftovers even though she’s actually been craving the pasta he ordered. Maybe she can try to look forward to that if he doesn’t eat it.

An hour and a half passes, and Natasha goes from being glad she made her own food to worried. It shouldn’t have taken him more than 45 minutes even if the order wasn’t ready when he got there. 

Unable to enjoy her anger while anxious her boyfriend is bleeding out in a ditch, Natasha calls him. 

“Sash!”

“Are you okay?” she cuts past his excuses. 

“What? Yeah?” 

“You’re not currently bleeding on the side of the road or in a totaled car or in any way harmed?” Natasha confirms.

There’s a hint of amusement in his voice when he answers. “I promise that outside of feeling awful about eating your cookies, I’m fine.”

“Good,” she snaps. “Stay that way. I love you.” And she hangs up on his chuckle. 

Natasha puts on a movie while she waits for him to get back, but she keeps checking her phone. It’s over an hour later when he walks through the door. 

“I hope you don’t think making me afraid for your life—.”

Bradley pulls a box of Samoas from behind his back. “I remembered Crockett’s niece is a Girl Scout. His sister-in-law helped me track down someone who still had a couple of boxes, but it was a little bit of a drive to get them. And I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find them so.” He holds up his other hand filled with bags. “I got you cheesecake, creme brûlée, tiramisu, and the pasta. It’s cold but you said—.”

He lets the bags fall to the floor to catch her. But he holds onto the box of cookies and tucks it between them before she kisses him. Bradley returns it eagerly, his mustache scratching her upper lip. 

“Ask next time,” she says softly when she comes up for air. His hazel eyes are hopeful and uncertain. “Or at least tell me.” 

He holds her tightly, large hands firm and comforting on her thighs. “I’m sorry, Sasha. I didn’t mean to be part of your bad day.” He kisses her chin. “Next time I’ll tell you before you throw a naked right hook at me.”

She chuckles and smoothes the sad furrow of his brow then kisses the bridge of his nose. “If you don’t mind getting a little messy, you can make it up to me after you put all my treats in the fridge.” A grin spreads over her face at the effort he put into his apology. 

Bradley raises interested eyebrows. “Period?” Natasha nods, and he kisses her neck. “My gorgeous girl, I’ll spend all night making it up to you. After you’ve had your cookies.”

She opens the box. “I love you.” When he doesn’t respond she looks up.

He feigns a look of surprise. “Oh, were you talking to me or the cookie?” 

Natasha smiles and pops a Samoa into her mouth. “The cookie then,” she says, mouth full, as he laughs and kisses a shred of coconut off her lip.

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Tag List: @melodiousoblivionao3

[spilledgold]

wrote this a year ago and forgot to post a link to it on here. i hope it finds its people.

Bob thought his observation skills were equally perfect on the ground as they were in the air.

Phoenix and Bob come to very different conclusions.

[tngrace]

TG/TGM Masterlist

Multi-Chapter/One-Shots

Letting Go A03; Tumblr - Rooster is recalled to Top Gun for a special mission. He has to face Maverick for the first time since his papers got pulled. He promises his Uncle Ice he would try with Mav, but things are messy and complicated.

Migraines Tumblr pt 1, pt 2; A03 -: Bradley (age 11) gets a migraine at school and has to call Pops (Ice) because Dad (Mav) is on training. 

Baby Goose is an Aviator Tumblr; A03 - Halloween fic - Bradley (age 6) wants to be an aviator for Halloween, and enlists the flyboys (Slider the most) to help with the costume. Some meaningful conversations take place while the costume is coming together, and then Bradley gets to trick-or-treat with all his flyboy uncles.

1st Christmas as a Family Tumblr; A03 - Icemav with Bradley for Christmas & Icemav smut

Coming Home: Tumblr; A03 - Top Gun Maverick but Ice lives. Pt. 2

Trick or Treat: tumblr; A03 - Bradley's best Halloween

The Maverick Chronicles Tumblr ML; A03 - 3 part series spanning TG to TGM

The Bradshaws Masterlist - Bradley X OC stories

[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

Master List

Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood. 

“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.  

“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it. 

“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together. 

Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight. 

The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age. 

Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him. 

“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”

Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again. 

“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair. 

“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun. 

“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up. 

“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”

“You’re nauseous?”

“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back. 

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”

“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene. 

He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly.��

“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself. 

“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression. 

“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers. 

“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”

“I’m coming, Princess!” 

Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water. 

“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”

“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you. 

“You made an appointment?”

“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth. 

“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”

“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”

You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously. 

“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.  

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana. 

“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”

“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”

~~~~~

“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you. 

“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office. 

“Any changes to your medication?”

“Nope.”

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life. 

“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head. 

“My husband had a vasectomy.”

“But are you still sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“In the last few months?”

“Yes.”

“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”

Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room. 

“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth. 

“Yes, I understand that.”

Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you. 

“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”

“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious. 

“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”

“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”

“Do you use protection with him?”

“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious. 

“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat. 

~~~~~

Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil. 

You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home. 

“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction. 

You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms. 

“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”

Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you. 

“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm. 

“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously. 

“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today. 

“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”

“Honey, what deal?”

“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”

“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”

“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”

“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”

“Not in the operating room.”

“Were you supposed to be?”

“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up. 

“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake. 

“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”

“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”

Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up. 

“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”

“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband. 

“My urologist?”

“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”

“When? I have a bunch of—”

“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”

You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five. 

But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning. 

~~~~~

Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’ 

Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that. 

Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office. 

A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”

“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly. 

“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”

“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic. 

“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”

“And in this case?”

“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”

“Another one?” Jake asked quietly. 

But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare. 

“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince. 

“Sorry.”

You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake. 

“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle. 

“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”

~~~~~

Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you. 

“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”

“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look. 

“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head. 

“What do you mean by those people?”

“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”

“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”

“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”

Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up.  And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face. 

“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee. 

“Good.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh. 

“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”

“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”

“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”

“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.

“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”

“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 

“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”

“I have my ways.”

And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife. 

And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that. 

Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own. 

“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again. 

~~~~~

Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake. 

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along. 

But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo. 

“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.

“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.” 

Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips. 

“Happy Birthday, Jake.”

“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink. 

Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed. 

And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him. 

“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips. 

“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands. 

“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”

“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss. 

And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

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

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Tag List

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

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[sappy-seresin]

Fawn (B. Bradshaw)

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x female!reader

Warning: hints at domestic abuse, hints at toxic relations, mentions of injury, angst, light cursing.

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is enamored by the Hard Deck's newest waitress. Taking notice of a shift in your demeanor, he finds himself wanting to get to the bottom of your newfound skittishness.

Series Theme Song: I’ll Be Around by Garrett Kato

Word Count: 5.8k

A/n: MY WORK IS NOT TO BE POSTED ELSEWHERE, especially without consent. Do not steal the work of other writers, thank you.

Gif creds: @mads-weasley

You've always carried yourself with elegant poise, your shoulders high with delicate confidence as you strut your way through life. That’s the first thing Bradley noticed about you, and he’s continued appreciating further the more your presence sealed itself into his life. You’ve been working at the Hard Deck for nearly six months now, and subsequently have earned yourself a space in the Dagger Squad friend group, without being a naval officer. Your space in their lives is a lot like Penny’s, other than the fact that you’re a few years younger than all of them. That fact has had all of them feeling protective over you in their own merit. Each of them have done their fair share of looking out for you, always stepping in when someone was heckling you at the bar or pulling you into the groups antics when you seemed overwhelmed on a busy night. Penny always watches from afar, glad to see you smiling among her favorite squadron.

Admittedly, Bradley loves how easily you melted into the group, and appreciates that everyone seems to care about you nearly as much as he does. He’d never admit it out loud, but you’re the first person he looks for when he enters the Hard Deck. His eyes automatically manage to plant themselves wherever you are when he walks in, an elegant smile taking over his face at the simplest sight of you. You always return the gesture, making a point to pour his drink before he even has the chance to order.

Recently though, your poise has dimmed. Your smiles never quite reaching your eyes when you cater to the aviators beck and call. Bradley attributed the change as stress, at first. The summer months are some of the busiest at the bar and it's your first time experiencing this level of rush. The moment he started picking up on your newfound skittishness, he couldn't shake the feeling that there's more going on than being overworked.

Your confidence is now sporadic, fleeting as you jump at loud noises and sudden movements, always playing it off with a lighthearted joke when any of them question it. He notices the way your smiles falter as soon as the groups focus shifts elsewhere, the facade slipping away when you're sure no one's watching. Yet, Bradley always is, unbeknownst to you, watching your every move. He catches every time you gulp to gain composure and the way your knuckles flash white with how hard you grip your tray after being jostled by a passing customer.

Tonight's no different as Bradley's kept his eyes trained on you from the moment he walked in. He watches you slip through the room in a fawn-like state, doe-eyes jumping around the room as you fade in and out of the shadows. Unlike your old, confident self that always managed to light up the typically muggy space.

“What’s got you lost in thought, Rooster?” Natasha’s voice cuts through his staring, pulling his attention from where you’re delivering drinks across the bar. He glances at her and Bob, who’re both staring back at him curiously.

“Does she seem off to you?” He asks simply, letting his eyes trickle back to you. Natasha’s eyebrows knit together before she follows his gaze, realization filling her immediately.

“Y/n?” She thinks out loud, accepting Bradley’s curt nod as a yes. “I mean, sure. I've noticed she’s been a little more skittish and accident prone than usual lately. What about it?"

Bradley shrugs, sipping his drink, not wanting to overshare a story that isn't his. Though, his mind flashes to the last time you'd spoken, affirming that he'd been right about foul play behind the scenes. Even after you forced another lie to keep yourself from admitting the truth to him in the bar just days ago. "I just feel like something isn't right." They fall into silence, Bob and Natasha accompanying Bradley in watching you. Each searching for any signs of foul play, or make any observation that could give insight on what's going on. The truth is, Bradley knows something isn't right. You confirmed his suspicions three days ago, though you refused to vocalize that he's right.

With his eyes trained on you, Bradley recounts the times you've proven to be 'accident prone' the past several weeks. Wonder fills his brain at memories of you brushing off seemingly small injuries as if they were normal, though you'd barely gotten a scratch in the previous months he'd known you. Bradley's mind flashes to the first time he questioned an injury, his eyes fixated on the soft wrap adorning your wrist as you wiped the counter nearly a month and a half ago. His hand clenches around his drink as he's now able to pinpoint your cover stories, though he has yet to figure out the culprit behind you fabricating those stories.

“What happened there?” Bradley asked, gesturing towards your bandaged hand. His eyes raking over you while you blinked at him for a second, letting a sheepish grin meet your lips.

“Oh this?” You joked, raising your hand absentmindedly. “It’s nothing really. I slipped during a game of one on one and caught myself weird. It looks worse than it is, doc says I need to be in the brace for a few weeks so it’ll heal.” Your voice was light and bubbly, but something in your eyes had Bradley unconvinced that your story was factual.

He took a swig of his beer, clearing his throat as he met your eyes again. Opting not to question you, he smiled. “I guess you need to work on your game.” The gentle laugh you released sent shivers down his spine as he watched you.

“I guess I do,” you agreed, topping him off with another beer before leaving to serve another customer without looking back.

He recounts the second time now. He caught you wincing when you bent down to grab a fresh case of beer you were moving to the back. your tight intake of breath had Bradley feeling uneasy.

“You alright, Darlin’,” his voice showcased the concern he’d been feeling. You grimaced at him, gladly accepting the hand he offered to help you up.

“Yeah,” you breathed, discomfort evident when the case slid against your rib cage. “I tweaked a muscle at the gym last night. Just a bit sore is all.” Your cheeks tinted pink at the twinkle in his eye with all his attention solely focused on you. He pushed himself from his position at the bar, inserting himself behind the counter before lifting the case from your grasp with ease. Your sheepishness grew when he leaned to brush past you, grab the last case before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Where do you need this?” You gaped at him for a moment, not expecting him to do the work for you, but collected yourself quickly. Leading him to the back instead of responding.

“Here’s perfect,” you told him, gesturing where the other cases were already stacked. He obliged, putting the cases in their designated spot, shooting you a content smile. “Thanks for doing that.”

“Not a problem, darlin’,” he waved off, knowing fully well he’d move a thousand more cases if you needed him to. You blushed again, the gesture melting his heart in the same way it does every time it graces your cheeks.

“Well, I appreciate it,” you reached out to squeeze his arm, the movement making the sleeve of your t-shirt slide up in the slightest. Bradley swears he saw a finger-shaped bruise peeking out just below the worn fabric. He eyes flickering back to your face quickly to keep you from noticing he’d seen anything. “My tweaked muscles do too.”

His mouth felt dry as he studied you, mind reeling about what's hiding behind the inconspicuous lie. Your hand dropped when his grin faltered, suddenly worried that you'd made him uncomfortable.

“I guess you need to work on your form,” he knew he was wearing his emotions on his face, though his tone remained intentionally light. Though he wanted to inspect the blemishes hiding under your sleeve, he knew it wasn’t his place. Mentally though, he pulled you against his chest and gently assured you that he’ll protect you from whoever gave you those bruises.

Your face dropped at his words, hands fidgeting against the fabric of your jeans. “I guess I do,” you agreed, deja’vu hitting you after repeating the words you'd spoken to him weeks prior. You hesitated, realizing that his subtle repetition means that, to a certain degree, he knows your explanations don’t match the truth. The thought of him not believing you made the room shrink around you, blurring Bradley’s figure with the anxiety of him finding out. “I should get back to the bar.” Though you were talking to him, the statement seemed to be whispered to no one before you brushed past him with a forced smile.

The last time he questioned you was just three days ago, and the memory of the sight of you has his hand strangling his glass, his blood boiling when he catches sight of your split lip from across the bar.

He'd been dismayed by the fact that you were, not so subtly, ignoring everyone in the squad that night. He noticed how you always kept your back towards them, sending another server to their table whenever they tried flagging you down. He lost sight of you for awhile, though his eyes never stopped scanning the room, hoping to pinpoint your figure assisting customers somewhere in the crowded room. He thought you left after ten minutes of gruel searching. The belief had his shoulders feeling heavy, his mind reeling with questions as to why you'd been silently swerving everyone all night.

His attempts to find you were forgotten as he came to terms with the fact that you didn't want to be found. Until he excused himself to go to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect himself to escape the thoughts of you.

The plan averted the second he gripped the bathroom door handle, the thick wood flung open before he'd even had a chance to pull. A string of apologies left your lips before you froze, realizing that Bradley was the one you'd nearly taken out with the door.

"Y/n, what-" His words caught in his throat after getting a good look at your face. You gaped at him like a deer caught in headlights, showcasing a bruised cheek and split lip that had him prepared to blow a gasket. His expression tightened as he scanned over the rest of you for anymore blemishes, though there wasn't anything else out of the ordinary. You let the door close with a soft 'smack' unable to cover your stunned demeanor. "What happened to your face?" He cut straight to the point, itching to find the "someone" that hurt you.

You opened your mouth to speak but he waved his hand to stop you.

"Another basketball game or a mishap in the gym?" A gentle sarcasm graced his voice, his eyes indicating that you can't get out of this one without telling the truth. His reference back to your past excuses made your hands shake anxiously.

You blinked at him, pointing a pleading look in his direction. Knowing he wasn't going to drop it, your shoulders deflated, though you weren't ready to accept defeat just yet. Lifting your head high, you wiped the shock from your face and replaced it with tenacity.

"Nasty spill while surfing yesterday," you quipped, no evidence of hesitation in your tone as you blatantly lied through your teeth. You hoped he would respond in the same way he had the last two times you found yourself in these subtle moments of confrontation. Wanting him to crack a lighthearted joke about working on your drop-in's, but you knew he wouldn't so you continued. "My board smacked me right in the face before I could stop it."

He sighed in frustration, ripping at his neat curls before dropping his hand again. You flinched in surprise, unknowingly giving him more belief that his suspicions were right. "Now you're just blatantly lying to me," he sighed, relaxing his face so you could see the sadness in his eyes. "Y/n, if someone's hurting you, I need you to tell me. You don't have to manage this on your own, and honestly, I hate that you don't feel like you can trust me. Let me help you."

"There's nothing for you to help with," you immediately insisted, though your teary eyes told him a different narrative. "I'm just clumsy is all." There was deep conviction weaved in your weak explanation, paired with an unwillingness to shed light on the truth. Which was that your boyfriend, Tanner has a short temper. His latest outburst being the cause of your battered surface and spirit.

"Y/n," Bradley pleaded, stepping closer to you, but you shuffled a step back.

"I have to get back," you rejected his advancement, brushing past him without another glance. He'd been frozen in defeat for the minutes following the chance encounter, staring in the direction you'd retreated with a heavy heart. Shaking himself off, he entered the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, hoping it was enough to rid his face of the worry lines wrinkling his forehead after speaking to you. Though he wanted to find you when he made his way back to the table, he forced himself to sit down, knowing you wouldn't speak to him about the topic and further.

The rest of the squad is seated at the table by the time Bradley's able to pull himself out of his head. Mickey tips his head at Bradley upon noticing he'd tuned back into the conversation for the first time since Mickey had sat down. Bradley musters a wink in Mickey's direction, bringing his cup to his lips to soothe the dryness of his throat, though his eyes subconsciously trickle over to you, mind reeling on how to get you to tell him the truth.

A loud crash sounds from across the bar awhile later, interrupting everyone’s attention away from the story Coyote was telling. Bradley had managed to distract himself from his thoughts enough to actually enjoy the night with the squad, periodically laughing as everyone spouts off ridiculous stories.

Bradley’s eyes flit over the room, expecting to find an old drunk struggling to pull themself off the ground, or maybe even the beginning stages of a brawl. What he doesn’t expect to find is you, standing frozen in place with your face resembling a ghosts. The second you squat down to begin picking glass up off the floor, Bradley’s moving to break the space to help you, eyes caught on the man towering over you with an infuriated expression.

“Where the hell have you been?” The man’s voice rings in Bradley’s ears once he’s close enough to hear. “I’ve been calling for four days, why haven’t you answered?”

“You broke my phone,” you snip. Your annoyed tone contradicts the trembling of your hands as they clumsily gather jagged shards into your hands. “I haven’t had the time to get a new one.”

“Everything okay, Y/n,” Bradley cuts in, sizing up the guy in front of him as you look at him for the first time in days. The man's got a few inches on Bradley, but he’s far from intimidating. The stranger clenches his jaw at the sight of him, his lips curving into an arrogant sneer as he puffs out his chest in Bradley's direction.

“Y/n’s fine,” he answers for you, balling his hands into tight fists. “Right, baby?” The nickname makes Bradley’s skin feel like it’s on fire due to the way it drips off the man’s tongue in a sickly sweet manner. Bradley's known you have a boyfriend for awhile. He was disappointed to find out after Hangman had jokingly tried his chances with you. Your admission of being taken was the sole hold up on him outing his feelings for you, but the sight of the guy shooting daggers at you makes his skin crawl. No man should look at his girl in the way this guy's looking at you.

Bradley watches your hesitant nod, your eyes barely ghosting over him as Penny slides a broom into your hand, helping you off the floor. You quietly thank her, gently assuring her that you’re okay, before returning your attention to cleaning the mess. Clearly wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to be anywhere but here causing a scene. Penny observes the three of you, mentally weighing whether or not to respect your assurances that you have the situation under control. One nod from Bradley is enough for her to return to her spot behind the bar, assisting the few customers that aren't watching the altercation unfold.

Growing more irate with your lack of attention, the man takes a step toward you. "You want to look at me while I'm talking to you?" Bradley's blood boils at the malice directed at you, his instincts forcing him to step closer to you as well, ready to jump in if he tries to lay as much as a finger on you.

"Tanner, you need to leave. You can't just come in here, guns a-blazing, while I'm working and expect the conversation to go well while you're causing a scene," there's a waver to your voice when you say his name, your attempt to remain composed is only half effective when your eyes jump back to the floor after catching Tanner's icy appearance.

"Where the hell else am I supposed to find you when you're obviously doing everything in your power to avoid me," Tanner snaps, his face glowing red with anger. "I tried your apartment four times and you were never home. So, where the hell have you been?" You instinctively flinch when he raises his hand, shocking Bradley into registering that Tanner's the culprit to blame for your split lip and bruised cheek. Your reaction to him walking into the bar, and now flinching at his sudden movements, is enough affirmation of what Bradley previously suspected.

"Alright man, she told you to leave, so it's time for you to go," Bradley's speaking on autopilot now, stepping forward enough to place his hand on Tanner's chest to keep him from advancing any closer to you.

Tanner sneers at Bradley, his gaze falling to the hand planted on his chest. "I suggest you get your hands off me, before I make you," he snarls, shooting Bradley his best intimidating glare before contorting his face in understanding. "So that's what you've been doing the last few days." He backs out of Bradley's grasp, looking at you with a fake humored expression.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bradley's eyes follow your voice, noticing the way your eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

"You've been screwing him, haven't you," Tanner accuses pointing a finger at Bradley. "I've been looking all over town for you and you've been fooling around with this prick. Dude, you're wasting your time. She's not even worth it."

Bradley interrupts before you can discount Tanner's words, refusing to let this piece of garbage tarnish your character. "She's worth more than you can comprehend, clearly. I can assure you that she's not fooling around with me, or anyone else for that matter. I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't cheat, even if it's warranted for a guy like you."

"A guy like me," Tanner replays those words, emphasizing them while he gestures toward himself, feigning surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Bradley quips, narrowing his brows. He's surprised when Tanner raises his eyebrows, urging him to voice his thoughts. "A guy that's dumb enough to lay a hand on a woman." You suck in a breath at the declaration, your eyes flying to watch Tanner's ego take a hit at the fact that he's been caught. You shudder, knowing full well that Tanner being caught means that your lies are out in the open now.

"My girl, my business," Tanner shrugs, "You're way out of line buddy, and I suggest you-"

“Do we have a problem here,” Bradley’s glad to hear Jake’s voice for once, some of the tension in his own chest alleviating at his colleagues authoritative tone. Jake stands tall as he positions himself in front of your shaken figure, his pointed gaze fixed solely on Tanner. He makes a point to flash his toned biceps by crossing his arms over his chest to add to his hard exterior, letting his eyes do plenty more talking while he sizes Tanner up.

“That’s up to him,” Bradley responds, nodding his head towards Tanner, who looks seconds away from throwing a punch.

“This is so like you, Y/n,” Tanner laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Letting your friends save you from your own battles instead of handling them yourself like an adult. You get off on being the damsel in distress, don't you?” He's glaring at you over Jake's shoulder, seemingly unfazed by the aviator acting as a human shield.

"Y/n's more than capable of handling herself," Jake assures Tanner, tightening his expression. "But here at the Hard Deck, we have a strict "no harassing women" policy, and you're disrupting the peace." Jake's eyes fall on Reuben and Javy who are now on standby behind Tanner, prepared to restrain him if necessary. Reuben gives him a curt nod, winking at you for a little extra encouragement. They've got you covered. "Now, you have two options. You can either walk yourself out of the bar, and leave my friend Y/n here alone. Or, I'll drag you out and let Rooster have his way with you." Jake pauses again to give Tanner a second to process what he said. "I can assure you that only the former is going to end well for you."

"Now you're threatening me? You seriously think I'm afraid of a few boys in pansy ass navy uniforms?" Tanner's expression grows more manic with his incredulous words, unable to keep himself from chuckling in disbelief.

The response is enough to make Jake snap, his arms falling to his sides as he swiftly nods at Javy and Reuben as a cue for them to move. "Alright, parties over buddy." Tanner thrashes the second the men intercept him, easily dragging him towards the door.

"You bitch," Tanner shouts, eyes locked on you while he lamely tries freeing himself from their grasp. He has a clear shot of you now that Jake's not planted in front of you. Instead, he's trailing behind the three of them as a form of damage control if a last line of defense if necessary. "You'll pay for this."

Bradley shifts to dart in Tanner's direction, his slow burning anger transforming into full-blown rage at the mans threat toward you. Though, his movements freeze when a hand grasps his forearm, his fiery eyes meeting your tearful ones as the ruckus in the room fades from his ears. The room around him spirals out of focus with you being all that he sees as he struggles to refrain from ripping away from you to beat Tanner until he forgets your name.

Your touch is feathery while you blear at him. He swears he's going to light on fire until you utter the only request that could possibly cool him down. "Please, stay with me." Bradley immediately returns to a grounded state, the thoughts of giving Tanner a piece of his mind dimming while you wordlessly beg him not to leave you alone. "Please, Bradley." Those words are all it takes for him to break the space, shamelessly pulling you against his chest to shield you from anymore hurt. You fall against him in exhaustion, your hands fisting the soft Hawaiian button up he's wearing to give yourself more assurance that he's there.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs into your hair after a few moments of holding you. You're sniffling into his chest while the atmosphere of the bar returns to normal, the onlookers suddenly feeling wrong about watching you break in Bradley's embrace.

Bradley easily flags Penny down with an urgent look, grateful that she stops what she's doing to assist him. "I need to get her out of here," he informs her in a hushed voice once she's close enough to hear. She wordlessly nods in understanding, sadness crossing her features at the sight of you practically rattling in his arms. "The glass is all in one place and just needs to be thrown away."

"I've got it covered, go," she encourages him, noticing that the three who'd taken Tanner outside have yet to return. "I'll have Pete pull your truck around back so you don't have to worry about any confrontations."

"Thanks Penny," Bradley hums, making sure not to jostle you too much while passing his keys to her. You lift your head to thank her as well, mustering a delicate smile as she carefully squeezes your arm in reassurance.

"Take care of my girl, Rooster," she commands lightheartedly, but he picks up on the weight behind her statement.

"Of course," he breathes, running his hand up your back to get your attention. "Ready to go, darlin'?" You bob your head in response, itching to get out of the sticky bar after having far too much attention on you. The interaction with Tanner replays in the back of your mind while Bradley guides you toward the back door with his hand rested on the small of your back.

Pete already has the Bronco parked by the back door when you guys reach the exit. He pulls the door open just before Bradley's able to reach it, stepping aside to let you two pass before bowing his head at Bradley.

"Appreciate the help, Mav," Bradley affirms, which Pete just shrugs off as a silent way of telling Bradley it's the least he could do. Pete makes sure you're both in the car before walking back inside, sympathy overtaking him at the image of you deflating in your seat.

The car ride is comfortably silent outside of natural road noise. The fact that Bradley has no idea where you live dawned on you about ten minutes into the drive, but you don't bring yourself to ask where he's taking you. Preferring not to be anywhere that Tanner can find you.

Your friendship hasn't gone much farther than hanging out when he visits the bar, other than the few times Natasha invited you to meet everyone at her place when you got off. Oh, and the movie night everyone had at Bob's when you offered to be their DD when they'd still been around by last call. Yet, you trust Bradley enough to feel at ease as he navigates the nearly vacant streets of San Diego.

"We're here," Bradley announces, putting the Bronco in park after pulling into his driveway. He glances at you with a comforting smile, rushing to hop out so he can open your door for you. You gracefully accept the hand he offers you, climbing out of the truck timidly. His hand finds a home on the small of your back again, acting as a guide while he leads you to the front door and lets you both in.

"Your place?" You think out loud, as he unlocks the door, gesturing for you to enter before him. He grins, suddenly feeling sheepish as he drops his keys on the small table next to the door.

"Yeah," he nods, scratching his neck. "I figured you shouldn't go home. Is this okay? I can take you somewhere else if you want."

"This is perfect," he blows the air out of his cheeks at your assurance, making a point to lock the door before guiding you to the living room. He gestures to the couch, which you gladly plop down on, relishing in the plush comfort of the cushions while Bradley watches you.

"Can I get you anything? There's water, tea, and probably even a few beers left from the last time the guys came over," Bradley curses himself for sounding so soft, though you don't seem to mind.

"Water would be great," your supportive smile is the first Bradley's seen all night, sending his stomach twisting in knots as he retreats to the kitchen. While he's gone, you take time to study the living room, your smile widening at the old family photos with his parents along with various pictures of the squad scattered across the shelves. The room is tidy and smells subtly of cologne, it's coziness urging you to melt further into the couch.

Bradley freezes in the doorway, secretly admiring how cozy you look in the safety of his house. I'm screwed, he thinks to himself, shaking his head to rid himself of being awestruck by you. You glance in his direction at the sound of his feet shuffling across the floor, graciously accepting the glass he slides in your hand.

"Thank you," you whisper, clearing your throat after taking a sip of the cool water before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you. Your body stretches back into the couch as Bradley fills the space next to you, making a point to leave enough room so that you don't feel claustrophobic.

A thick silence falls over the room, neither of you knowing what to say now that you're alone. The impending conversation weighs on both of your shoulders while the two of you look everywhere other than at each other. Bradley speaks after several moments of grueling silence, unable to bare the elephant in the room.

"I'm so sorry for not vocalizing my suspicions sooner," the apology surprises you, not having anticipated the softness of his response. Part of you assumed he was going to be angry with you for not fessing up and asking for help when you had the chance. "I mean, I know you don't play basketball, and then I saw those bruises on your arm, but I didn't feel like it was my place to pry. I should've just said something before he had more chances to hurt you." He frowns at the newest blemish on your lip, scabbed but still fresh with only being a few days old. The bruise on your cheek has faded into a dull yellowish green, time giving it enough time to kickstart the healing process.

"It's my own fault. I was dumb to ever get involved with him," you croak, downcast eyes trained on the floor. "My friends told me he was a walking red flag and I didn't listen. I willingly fell into his trap on my own accord. So please, don't apologize for not saying anything sooner because it's been my fault all along. Your questions were all I allowed you to do."

"Hey," Bradley whispers, wordlessly asking for consent to cup your jaw in his hand, his thumb gently swiping the tear gliding down your blemished cheek after you nod in approval. "None of what he did to you is your fault. You hear me? I don't want to hear you blaming yourself for a man that didn't know the first thing about treating you right." Bradley's voice is gentle as he addresses you, not leaving any room for you to feel insecure in being with him. He never wants you to feel small again, and you won't as long as he has anything to do with it. "He had no business laying his hands on you in a way that misconstrued love as violence. The blame is solely for him to carry, not you. Okay?" His eyes plea that you absorb everything he's telling you. He needs you to understand that Tanner is the perpetrator at fault, not you. The tears flooding your cheeks are indication that you're grasping what he's telling you, but he has to be sure.

"I need to know that you're hearing me Darlin'," the statement is more of a request as he wipes at more of your tears, his heart quenching at the subdued sob that forces its way out of you. All you can do is nod, not trusting your voice. "I need to hear you say it."

"I'm hearing you, Bradley," you sniffle, stammering over the knot in your throat. "The blame isn't mine." With that, more choked sobs erupt from your body, encouraging Bradley to pull you into his lap without caring whether it's the appropriate move or not. Your lack of opposition assures him that you're okay with him holding you while you come unglued in his embrace for the second time.

Countless encouragements that he's got you and that you're going to be okay quietly float from his lips while you melt into him. The innocent closeness brings you a small sense of the relief you're craving. His softness allows you to feel safe enough to simply let yourself accept the truth and feel all of the emotions you've been numbing as a form of self preservation for the last few months. For the first time in months, the breaths filing your lungs aren't clouded by heaviness because an inescapable weight has lifted from your chest. You bask in the weightlessness of your breathing, the sensation bringing a fresh round of relieved tears. Your sobs transition into meek sniffles as Bradley patiently comforts you, his own tension releasing when he senses that you're going to be okay.

"Thanks for rescuing me," you murmur after a few moments of quiet, thankfully allowing him to rid your cheeks of the final evidence of tears. Bradley loses his own breath when his eyes fixate on you again. Though your eyes are bloodshot and glazed from crying, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink tint, Bradley swears you've never looked more beautiful.

His hand tenderly cups your cheek again, his eyes the softest they've been all night as he drinks the sight of you in. The rational side of him wants to curse himself for being so enthralled by you at such an unfortunate time. You just experienced one of the most humiliating nights of your life, and spent the last twenty minutes broken in his arms for God's sake. But all rationality escapes him as he soaks you in, completely defenseless against the relentless adoration beating against his ribcage.

"I'll rescue you any time it's needed Darlin'," he promises, and you know he means it. You bask in the comfort of his arms for the rest of the night, enjoying the lighthearted conversation and the way he seems comforted by your presence. In the dim light of the room, with a TV show softly playing quietly in the background, you eventually lull to sleep, Bradley's steady heart beat being the last thing you remember before succumbing to the delicate darkness.

-----------------

A/N: That's it!! My first TGM fic is on the books!! I've got various works in the making, but this one flowed so naturally as I was writing and I'm ecstatic to share it.

There's a part two dancing in the back of my mind, but I'll let feedback and continued inspiration decide whether or not the story continues or ends here.

PART TWO IS IN PROGRESS

Tagging some moots/pages that I enjoy. Feel free to request whether or not you'd like to continue being tagged in future fics <3

Tags: @glen-powells @bradleybeachbabe @writingshae @happilycameron @rosiahills22 @roosterforme @avaleineandafryingpan @fandomxpreferences @fanboygarcia

[beyondthesefourwalls]

A Verbal Agreement

Summary: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.2K (no one is as shocked as I am that I kept it short) 

Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk. Enemies with benefits. Language. The Blonde One™️.

---

---

You hated him. 

Truly, you did.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe strong dislike would be a better way to describe it. 

Jake Seresin was a smug son of a bitch. He was the bane of your existence in so many ways, and got under your skin like he was trying to burrow there and make it his home. His arrogance annoyed you, constantly walking around with a holier-than-thou attitude, like he was God’s gift to women, the Navy, and society in general. His smirk made his face punchable in a way that you were barely able to resist smacking him when he shot it in your direction. 

But damn, if his ability to string together filth didn’t drive you fucking crazy. 

“That’s it. Fuck. That’s my good girl.” 

You clenched around him at his words, a moan leaving you because of the praise. 

Dirty talk was something you considered to be an artform. It was one of your biggest turn ons, and so little men knew how to actually execute it. So often when you’d ask for it, it came out awkward, cringy or obnoxious. They fumbled over words and made everything sound so unappealing, unable to find that perfect balance of praise and degradation that you longed for, that you would barely be in the mood to finish after they spouted off what they thought was sexy. 

So it would figure, of course, that you discovered Jake was the best dirty talker you had ever been with after what was supposed to be a one time mistake after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. He made everything sound so flawlessly erotic and natural, you were basically a puddle for it every single time.  

It was no secret that Jake loved to hear himself talk, and this was the one situation where you not only didn’t mind, you wanted it.  

“Taking me so fucking well. You were made to take it, weren’t you baby?” 

“Yes,” you gasped, nodding rapidly, your nails dragging down his back. “Made to.” 

“Yeah you were. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?” 

Your moan turned into a scream of his name as a sharp smack came down on your ass, Jake nearly bending you in half as he fucked you. “Answer me.” 

You knew from knowing him for so long that he hated being ignored, especially in bed, and especially when it was about how good he was making you feel.

“Yes! Fuck!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls. “So good!” 

His chuckle and his smirk were both so smug, in any other situation, you would have rolled your eyes. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, it sent another wave of arousal through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into him. 

“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that straight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and as smooth as velvet. “Not like you would have been able to deny it, anyway. You’re so fucking soaked, you’re making a mess of the sheets and those pretty thighs of yours. I can only imagine how good it's going to feel when I come inside of you. Is that what you want?” 

“Uh-huh,” you breathed. 

"You’re so fucking tight, baby. Sucking me in like a damn vice.” 

"Please," you whimpered. You were close; so close. But you needed more. “Please, please, please.” 

“God I love it when you beg for me.” 

He said the words almost to himself, so you didn't answer, caught in a whirlwind of lust and frustration. Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, tight circles against it. Your vision blurred at the stimulation. 

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?” 

“Jake.” 

You felt the edges of your control fraying, the pleasure building to a breaking point. Your whole body shook - sweet release so near that you could almost taste it. 

"Yeah, baby," he growled, his hips pounding into you even harder. His thrusts became more urgent as he neared his end, too, demanding and pointed."You want to come for me?” 

You couldn’t answer, falling into the haze of what he was making you feel. Your mind was a blank canvas, lost to the sensation of his cock filling you, all that existed was the intense sensation of him thrusting against your nerve-endings, the friction between your clit and his fingers, and the rhythm of his voice, husky and perfect, pulsing through you. 

Another smack to your ass, and then his hand found your chin, squeezing just tight enough where it drew you out of your head. He guided your gaze toward him. His eyes, always so mischievous, were dark and calculating. “Do you want to come for me?” he repeated, and you moaned at the authority ringing in your ears. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Yes. Please, Jake. Make me come.” 

“Then do it. Be a good girl, and come for me. Now.” 

Your body responded to his command instantly. You arched into him, your screams echoing in the room as you shattered, your nails digging into his back. He never stopped talking, his voice coaxing as much from you as he could. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Come inside this sweet little pussy. And you’re going to take all of it, baby.” 

Your body felt like it was on fire. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and he kept up his relentless rhythm, chasing his own release. You felt him go rigid inside you, and then his hips jerked forward once, twice, and then a third time as he joined you over the edge. He grunted out your name as you clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him pulse inside you.

For a few moments, you both laid there, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Jake settled more of his weight on top of you in a way that always made you feel more secure as you came down from the high, and you placed a soft kiss against his neck in appreciation.

“I still hate you,” you mumbled into his skin. 

Jake chuckled low in his throat, and then laughed even harder when the sound caused you to clench around his softening cock. He pulled out of you slowly, sliding over your sensitive flesh. You could feel his cum slipping out of you, furthering the mess between your legs. You couldn’t help but shiver as he settled on the mattress beside you, pulling you into his sweaty chest. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.” 

“No, I mean it.” 

But even as you said it, you were cuddling closer to him, draping your leg over his as got comfortable. Post-orgasm was one of the only times he was quiet, or at least not as chatty, and you enjoyed basking in the afterglow that always followed these trysts. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you could feel the smirk that was no doubt a mix of smug and indulgent as he did. “Sure.”

“Shhhh,” you murmured, “don’t ruin it.”

He laughed lightly, but settled down, not saying anything else. 

-----------

Notes: I really have no idea what this is or where it came from, but here we are.

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 and @sylviebell for reading it over and all your help! And to Mak for a stunning banner, as per ushe.

Main Masterlist

[bradshawsbitch]

𝕨𝕚𝕡 𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

thanks for tagging me @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @sweetwhispersofchaos & @blue-aconite !

from gold to sand

roughstock

taste of ink

river lea

[mep]

[autumntouched]

Day 13 of Ode to Phoenix

Well...it's almost two weeks in, and I'm still here! This one's a Phoenix x Rooster fic for @sylviebell

Summary: Natasha takes Bradley home as her boyfriend for the first time

Pairing: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Warnings: PG-13. Implied sex but nothing explicit

A/N: I haven't been okay since hearing Miles Teller's morning voice so here we are...once again, from my brain to the page with few edits and apologies this is unpolished. xx

Welcome to the Family, You're Getting Teased

Natasha blinks her eyes open to soft light filtering through the curtains. Bradley is a line of heat at her back, which is why she insisted her mom put a quilt on the bed instead of a duvet. She prefers to sleep cold, but he’s a furnace. 

She starts to turn over to see if Bradley is awake but a large hand slips over her stomach and his knee nudges the back of hers as he wraps himself around her. He’s definitely awake. His nose and mustache tickle the line of her shoulder as he places kisses there while he squeezes her to him. She can feel through his pajama pants when he spoons her closer that he’s half hard. “Mornin’, Patch,” he croaks, voice still deliciously rough with sleep. 

For some reason, he thinks it is adorable that she has a favorite dalmatian pup in 101 Dalmatians (doesn’t everyone?!) and since she disclosed that, she’s been stuck with ‘Patch.’ 

“Hey,” she smiles. His hand finds its way under her silk tank top and rubs circles there that are more arousing than they have a right to be. Natasha stretches, letting herself arch into him and enjoying his huff of appreciation. She settles more deeply into his embrace, snuggling against his bare chest. “You know, my family’s already obsessed with you right?” 

His hand pauses. Bradley’s known her family for several years now, even spent a few holidays with them, but always as her friend and usually in the guest room downstairs instead of the remnants of the room she shared with her sister growing up. This is the first time that she’s brought him home as her boyfriend, and she knows he’s been worried that somehow her family’s feelings toward him would change with that. 

“How do you know?” and he’s not fishing for a compliment. There’s an anxious tenor to the question like he can’t quite believe he is the perfect mom pleaser with his readiness to help with anything (particularly anything that requires height and everything her own children complain about doing), hearty and grateful appetite, and perfect manners. It’s icing on the cake that her brothers can always rope him into their activities and her nieces love having someone as willing to let them climb on him as he is to spend an afternoon playing a (rather abused) waiter to three demanding chefs. Her nephew is only jealous that he can’t spend all afternoon playing catch with him in the backyard.

“I mean, their first question when I told them I was coming home was whether you could come with me. But the real tell is that I can’t get them to take my side in anything.” She wriggles around so she can look up into his face. “Anytime we disagree, it’s ‘well I’m sure Bradley has a good reason, Natasha’ or ‘what did you do Nasha.’” She reaches up to smooth his tousled curls, adorably mussed from sleep. “You’re the steak now, and I’m the leftover, reheated chopped liver.” 

A slow smile spreads across his face and into his hazel eyes, a little embarrassed and slightly reassured. “You’ll never be chopped liver to me,” he promises, kissing the corner of her frown. 

“I hope not!” she pouts before he kisses her mouth. They both inhale sharply at the pleasant charge it sends through them. Bradley gently rolls her onto her back and settles himself between her legs. 

There’s no rush as they languidly explore one anothers' mouths, tongues brushing occasionally. Lightly, she passes her fingers along the ridges of his spine entranced by something so delicate in the midst of so much strength. 

Their cozy makeout session is interrupted by an aggressive rattle of the doorknob. Bradley springs off of her like he’s been shocked. “Shit,” he hisses. Natasha claps a hand over his mouth and presses a finger to her lips.  

“Auntie Nat!” It’s her niece, Luna. “Can I come in?” The doorknob jiggles again. 

Bradley furrows his brow, a question in his eyes. She tugs him back down on top of her and whispers into his ear, “Let her think we’re still asleep. I want you to myself a little longer.” 

“Auntie Nat!” Luna calls loudly through the door. “Are you awake?” If she weren’t, she would be now. 

They wait, absolutely still, until Natasha’s sister-in-law calls up the stairs. “Luna, come back down here and leave Auntie Nat alone please!” And because Addy has a wicked sense of humor and has known her for far too long, she adds, “She’s probably busy right now.” 

Natasha can’t tell whether her cheek or Bradley’s is hotter with mortification. 

“Busy with what?” Luna asks innocently, voice fading on her way to obey her mother. They don’t hear Addy’s answer over her brothers’ laughter and her mother’s scolding. 

Natasha stares up at the ceiling, willing herself to sink into the mattress and dreading the knowing winks they’re about to get once they’re up. Maybe they’ll never go downstairs. Her mom can leave their food at the door. 

Bradley shifts beside her in the bed, drawing her attention. She pushes herself up, worried by the look of devastation on his face. “Roo, is everything okay?”

“Did I just blow it?” he asks nervously, picking at a loose strand in the quilt. 

Her heart wrenches for his uncertainty, which is the only thing that keeps her from laughing. She cups his jaw and kisses his mustache. “You asked how I know they’re obsessed with you?” Now a smile does tweak at her lips. She can’t help it because Addy may as well have yelled up that they love him and want him to stay. “You’re getting teased. Strap in, aviator, it’s going to be a wild ride.”

He’s right to look a little terrified as she straddles his lap. Eyes wide and hands gripping her thighs, he watches her take off her top.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t we go downstairs?”

Natasha smirks, spreading her fingers across his chest. “We may as well earn the looks we’re about to get.”

To his credit, Bradley takes full advantage of the opportunity.

An hour later, they’re standing side by side at the counter making their coffee when her brother starts in. “So how’d you two sleep?”

Before Natasha can jump in, Bradley grins like the cat that got the cream that he is. “Like two peas in a very small pod.” 

Well, that’s one way of putting it, and there are no more questions after that. Natasha stands on tiptoe to kiss the handsome line of his jaw, grateful he’s fitting right in. 

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Tag list: @melodiousoblivionao3

[inmyglenpowellera]

An Innocent Game | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Request: requested by @kati-1997. Asked for best friends to lovers, everybody sees that they like each other but he admits it after someone flirts with the reader, the crew and Penny bet that they get together.

Word Count: 5949 words

Summary: Jake and the reader are best friends, however, the Dagger Squad and Penny can see they both want to be more than that. What started off as a bet of when the two will get together turns into a different game that leads to trouble.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, angst, cursing (I think, I can't remember for sure, kissing.

It started as a game. An innocent little game for the entire Dagger Squad to play, minus Maverick who was trying to be the responsible one out of the group. But honestly, the oldest member couldn’t blame the group for what they started. They had to do something to deal with Fightertown's most clueless couple.

What started as placing bets for when the two of you finally got together turned into a drinking game.

Take a drink when one of you calls the other a nickname or says something flirty.

Take two drinks if one of you kisses the other on the cheek, forehead, or head.

Take a shot when Hangman tries to show you how to properly play pool.

Take two shots if you hold hands.

Finish your drink if you guys end up dancing together.

Needless to say, the members of the Dagger Squad are more on track for liver failure rather than winning any money.

“I’m never playing that game ever again,” Rooster groaned out to the group the next morning, slumped down in his chair with his aviators placed over his closed eyes.

“Yeah, right. We all know we’ll be doing the same thing when we go out again,” Phoenix argued with him, her state being the same, except she’s leaned forward in her seat, head down and buried in her arms.

“I’ve never drunk so much in my entire life,” Bob groaned out from next to her, sunglasses placed on his nose instead of his usual spectacles for seeing properly.

“I think I’m still drunk,” Fanboy stated, Payback humming in agreement from his seat next to him.

“I’m honestly surprised Penny served us as much as she did last night,” Coyote spoke up.

“It’s because Penny understands the pain we are going through right now with watching the two of them together. I’m starting to seriously think we need to step in and do something about it. I don’t know if my liver can take another night like this,” Rooster told the group.

“What do you expect us to do, Rooster? It’s not like we can just come out and say-,” Coyote was cut off by Pheonix shushing him at the sound of whistling.

Jake Hangman Seresin immediately stopped in his tracks when he took in the sight of his fellow aviators. He couldn’t help but laugh at the hungover group as he slowly walked further into the room, grinning around his toothpick.

“Well, it looks like some people had a fun night,” He said with a chuckle, taking his usual seat at the front of the room.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Fanboy muttered, causing Payback to send an elbow into his side.

Hangman showed no sign of hearing his muttered phrase and pulled his phone out to reply to a text sent by you.

Darling: Phoenix hasn’t replied to me this morning. Should I be worried?

His smile widened across his face as he replied to you.

Cowboy: Don’t you worry, darling. It looks to me like she and the rest of the group had a long night last night.

Jake discreetly took a picture of the group sitting behind him with their glasses on and sent it to you. Jake then locked his phone back up and placed it into his pocket before turning to look back at everybody.

“Are any of you going to be up to standards today,” He asked curiously.

“We’ll be fine Hangman, don’t you worry about us,” Coyote told his best friend.

“I just hope Maverick won’t be too hard on us today. I think I might puke if we do any crazy maneuvers,” Bob groaned.

“That’s the price to pay for underage drinking Baby on Board,” Jake said smugly from the front of the room.

“You’re such an ass,” Bob whispered, and everybody was too hungover to comment on the unexpected cursing from the WSO.

Everybody remained silent as they heard the door to their room swing open. Maverick quietly stepped into the room and slowly walked to the front, taking in the state of his team. He shook his head in amusement and cursed his girlfriend for serving them as much as she did. He dropped his clipboard on the podium in the front with a bang, causing all of the aviators, minus the cause of the problem, to let out groans of pain.

“Please never do that again,” Rooster groaned out to his godfather.

“Good morning to you too,” Maverick said with amusement in his voice. “Judging by the look of everybody in this room, practicing flight maneuvers is out of the question and is going to have to be moved to a different day.”

A resounding groaned cheer of numerous “thank gods” and “yes, pleases” rang out from the group, causing Hangman to scoff at the group and shake his head.

“That being said, you guys still aren’t off the hook. I want you all down at the beach behind the Hard Deck and ready for dogfight football within the hour,” Maverick ordered the group, causing them to still groan out in disagreement.

“I’d honestly much rather fly a plane than constantly be tackled to the ground,” Rooster argued.

“That’s the point. I don’t want to hear complaints from the maintenance team about having to hose vomit out from your cockpits, but I can’t let you all off the hook. You’re punishment for drinking so much the night before work is dogfight football. See you all in an hour,” Maverick smirked, leaving the room and the aviators to pull themselves from their seats.

-----

“They look like they’re struggling more than usual,” I commented about the sluggish group of aviators on the beach in front of me.

Penny hummed in acknowledgment and amusement before speaking. “All of them but your best friend.”

I followed her gaze to said aviator and blushed when I saw him, tanned skin glistening in the sun, muscles on show for anyone and everyone to see. I sighed wistfully at him as I continued admiring him, knowing full well Penny was also doing so with Maverick.

“They’re all hungover,” Penny reminded me with a smirk, going back to her work sitting in front of her.

“How are they so hungover? Did they keep drinking after Jake gave me a ride home,” I questioned her in disbelief.

“No, they stopped drinking when you left. You just didn’t realize how much they were drinking while you were here,” She explained. “Probably because you were so focused on a certain Lieutenant Seresin.” 

I removed my gaze from the group and glared over at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” Penny nodded at me in amusement.

I rolled my eyes at her and looked back at the group to watch Jake do a double take towards our table. I grinned at him and raised my hand in a wave, seeing a wide grin also take over his face and wave back. After his actions, I watched as all of the aviators slowly looked over and had mixed reactions to my presence. Some groaned in what looked like exhaustion while some waved at me with a small smile.

“How long have they been at this,” I questioned Penny curiously.

“A little over an hour. Pete said it was punishment for getting so drunk when they knew they had work the next morning,” Penny told me with a proud grin at the thought of her boyfriend.

“He would punish them for having fun,” I poked at her, causing her to frown at me and kick me under the table. “I was joking. So, what do you think, maybe a little hair of the dog will help them get through it?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Penny argued with me, seeming to know something I don’t know.

“It’ll be fine, Pen,” I argued with her, pulling the back door of the Hard Deck open and making my way to behind the bar.

I began gathering beers together and placing them on top of the bar. I looked around across the bartop to see no bottle opener in sight. I sighed in frustration and began moving jars of garnishes to the side to locate the opener. When unsuccessful, I groaned and squatted down to locate the opener on one of the shelves underneath the bar and let out a small cheer when I saw one behind a glass jar. I pulled the jar out and reached for the opener, placing it up on the bartop. I went to place the jar back when I noticed a heart drawn on it. I furrowed my brows and held it farther away from my face to properly examine it.

I opened the container and looked inside to see rolls of cash shoved inside of it. 

“What the hell,” I murmured to myself in confusion.

I gripped the jar in my hand and walked towards the back door of the bar, pushing it open with my hip and walking towards the bartender.

“Penny, what the hell is a jar with a heart drawn on it stuffed full of cash doing underneath your bar,” I questioned her in confusion.

I could see the woman freeze briefly and some color drain from her face before she looked up at me wide-eyed. I stared at her expectantly and placed the jar on the table in front of her, watching her glance between the jar and myself a few times before speaking.

“It’s…,” She trailed off, causing me to raise my brows at her. “It’s some money I’ve been saving up for a trip for Pete and me. I’ve been hiding it underneath the bar so he doesn’t see it.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Well, I would love to contribute some, if that’s okay,” I started reaching for my purse, causing her to stop me and grab the jar from the table.

“No, that’s okay. That’s not necessary at all,” She shrugged.

“Are you sure,” I questioned her again.

“Positive,” She nodded at me tightly before looking back at the door. “Weren’t you getting drinks for everybody?”

My eyes widened at the reminder and walked back inside to grab the beers I had planned on acquiring previously. After opening all of them I gripped them in my arms and hands and began walking them out to the beach where the aviators continued their game.

“I heard that some of you could use a bit of help in your day,” I called out, gaining their attention.

I heard some sighs of relief and resounding “thank yous” as they all made their way towards me and began taking the beers off of my hands. Jake was the last one to greet me and the grin on his face caused mine to widen as well. He took the beer from my outstretched hand before gripping it and pulling me towards him.

“Thank you, darling,” he told me, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re welcome, hotshot,” I grinned at him.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as the rest of the group all shared looks before taking four long drinks of their beer in unison.

“Don’t overdo it again guys,” Maverick scolded them, taking a drink of his beer as well before sighing. “We can be done for the day. Get some rest and be ready for work on Monday.”

“Yes, sir,” Rang out around me as everybody sighed in relief at being done for the day.

I giggled at all of them in amusement as I moved closer to Jake and wrapped my arms around his waist. “How are all of you so hungover? Penny told me you stopped drinking after we left last night.”

Everybody stayed quiet at my question and continued drinking their beer, causing me to shrug and hug myself closer to Jake.

“Honey, I’m all sweaty and sandy, I’m sure you don’t want to be touching me right now,” Jake informed me with a grin, taking his sunglasses off and placing them on my face so I was no longer squinting up at him.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him, pressing my face into his chest and admiring his green eyes shining in the sunlight.

Everyone groaned simultaneously and took another long gulp of beer, causing me to squint at them in confusion.

“Is there something we’re missing here,” I questioned all of them curiously.

“Nope,” They all denied in unison.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded at them before looking back up at Jake. “Well, it’s Friday night, what are we doing tonight? Drinks at the Hard Deck again?”

“Sounds good to me. What about you guys,” Jake nodded at me before looking back at the rest of the Dagger Squad.

“Sounds great,” Rooster said after a moment of silence, everybody else hesitantly nodding in unison.

“Awesome. Well, I’m going to head home and get changed, let’s meet back here in an hour to an hour and a half,” I questioned the group, removing myself from Jake’s side and handing his sunglasses back to him.

Everybody nodded as Jake placed another kiss on my head. “Sounds good, darling. I’ll pick you up on my way again.”

I nodded at him in acknowledgment before beginning my trek off of the beach.

---------

“Here, darlin’, you’re holding it wrong, let me help you out,” Jake murmured in my ear, placing his hands over my own and leaning over me.

“I think I know how to do it properly after the many times you’ve shown me before, cowboy,” I giggled out to him, lifting my head to look into his bright green eyes.

“Well, it never hurts to have a refresher,” He replies to me, causing me to nod sheepishly and look back at the task at hand.

“Shots, everybody,” Rooster called out, causing everybody to nod at him reluctantly.

I looked up from the pool table to nod at him as well. “I’ll take one, Roo. Can you also get me another (Y/D)?”

“Sure,” He nodded at me with a tight smile before turning and going to the bar.

Jake led me in my shot once again before we both stood from the table and watched the balls move around. Once my turn was over the next person went and I handed my pool stick to the next person. Jake leaned down towards my ear and told me he was going to help Rooster with the drinks before placing a kiss on my temple. I nodded at him with a bright grin and moved to sit at one of the high-top tables surrounding the pool table. As I sat observing the game in front of me, a very drunk Phoenix came and placed her head on my shoulder, causing me to giggle at her in amusement.

“Can I help you,” I questioned her.

“I’m so drunk,” She informed me, staring at the pool table with a blank expression.

“We’ve only been here two hours,” I said in disbelief. She remained silent and only shrugged in response. “Stop drinking then.”

“I can’t. I would lose the game if I did that, and I can’t lose. I already lost my money, I can’t lose this too. This is your fault by the way,” She groaned out to me, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about,” I questioned her.

Coyote stepped forward at that moment and placed his hands on the female aviator's shoulders, moving her away from me and towards her WSO Bob.

“Ignore Phoenix. She’s just had a little too much to drink. You know how she can be sometimes,” Coyote told me, placing his hand on my shoulder

“Uh…,” I trailed off, looking past him at my female friend with confusion still written across my face.

“Here you go, (Y/N),” Rooster said, gaining my attention.

I looked over at him to see him holding my drink up to me with a grin. I smiled at him thankfully and accepted my drink before looking behind him.

“Where’s Jake?”

“Bringing the rest of the shots,” He told me before downing a couple of gulps of his beer in his hand.

I nodded in understanding before looking back at the pool table in front of me. After a few seconds of waiting for Jake, (Y/F/S) began playing from the jukebox, causing my grin to widen and begin searching for the green-eyed aviator and finding him making his way towards me with a smug grin. I smiled at him brightly and downed my shot before standing from my seat.

“You wanna dance,” Jake questioned me smugly, holding his hand out.

My smile widened and I shook my head at him in disbelief. “You do this every time we come here.”

“Nothing wrong with having a routine,” He shrugged at me before gripping my hand tightly and pulling me over to the jukebox.

I couldn’t help but laugh as he began twirling me around in the jukebox lights before pulling me closer to him. I placed my head on his chest as his hands moved to my waist. The two of us swayed comfortably back and forth for the duration of the song, occasionally catching the gazes of the rest of the Dagger Squad who were looking over at us periodically.

“I feel like something is going on with our friends that they’re not telling us,” I murmured to Jake, questioning if he heard me or not.

“What do you mean,” Jake questioned me curiously.

“They’re acting weird,” I pointed out.

“Because the way they normally act is considered normal,” Jake said in amusement, shaking his head at me.

“To me it is,” I said shyly, looking up at him.

Jake shook his head at me again with a grin before speaking. “Alright, what are they doing that has you so concerned?”

I looked up at him in disbelief this time and scoffed. “You’re telling me you seriously can’t see it? The occasional groans when the two of us do anything, the hesitation in agreeing to come out with us tonight, the heavy drinking in our presence, Phoenix telling me that her being drunk is my fault.”

Jake stood and thought before saying his piece. “I think our friends are just weird and annoying.”

I scoffed at him and grinned before shaking my head. “Sure, Seresin. Let’s go with that.”

“Look, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think it might just be me, okay? They have to spend all day with me at work and then the evening with me when we hang out. Being around the same people so much can cause some annoyance,” Jake tried to reassure me.

I sighed and shook my head before reluctantly agreeing. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. I’m always right,” He grinned down at me.

“That is not true,” I giggled at him before he twirled and dipped me.

(Y/F/S) came to an end and the two of us began making our way back towards the group. I walked to the table that I left my drink on and frowned when I saw my glass empty. I looked around the group to see a guilty-looking Phoenix avoiding eye contact. I laughed in amusement and shook my head at her before looking up at Jake.

“I’m going to get another drink. It looks like a drunk Phoenix beat me to this one,” I informed him, gesturing between the female aviator and my cup.

Jake laughed as well and looked back down at me. “I can get you another one, darling.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I reassured him, grabbing my glass to take to the bar for Penny. 

Jake threw his hands up in surrender and smirked at me as I rolled my eyes, reaching forward and gripping one of his hands to pull it back down to his side. Jake smiled at me in amusement and squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go, gently pushing me towards the bar. I looked back at him with a small smile before trekking over to Penny.

“Another one,” Penny questioned me in shock, looking at my empty glass.

“Yeah, I’m afraid Phoenix beat me to this one,” I said with a gentle laugh.

Penny shook her head before turning to make my drink. I chuckled in amusement and looked back at the group of aviators at the pool table. Jake looked up from his turn at the table to make eye contact with me. He winked at me before making his move, causing me to roll my eyes and move to turn back to the bar. However, I paused in my turn when I noticed a certain spectacled WSO making his way towards me at the bar.

“Hey, Bob. You doing okay,” I questioned him in concern.

Bob nodded at me with a bright grin, slightly swaying in his spot where he stopped next to me. “Yeah, I’m great.”

I nodded in agreement with him before looking over at Penny. “Hey, Pen? Water for the WSO, please.”

Penny nodded at me as Bob began to shake his head. “No, no. I don’t need any water. I’m fine.”

I nodded at his slurred words and laughed a little bit. “Bob, you’re a lightweight on your best day, I think some water would do you some good,” I told him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

Bob drunkenly stared up at me in a haze before he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re totally right. (Y/N), you’re the best. You just care about all of us so much,” He told me, taking my hand on his shoulder in his own and moving it onto the bartop.

“Well somebody has to, Bob, when none of your family is here,” I argued with him, laughing again when he gently laid his head on my shoulder.

“You’re right, again. You're always right, and you’re so smart,” He said softly, nodding his head on my shoulder and causing his glasses to go lopsided from the action.

Penny walked over to the two of us and set my drink and the water on the bartop, causing me to give her a thankful look. I released my hand from Bob’s grip and began pushing the water toward his now free hand.

“Thank you,” He murmured, lifting his head and placing a kiss on my cheek.

I lightly blushed at his actions and shook my head at him. “Don’t thank me until tomorrow morning when your hangover isn’t as bad as it could be.

Bob gave a small giggle and nodded at me in agreement before he began chugging the water. I nodded at him in encouragement and rubbed his shoulder.

--------

Jake watched his best friend walk away from him after gently nudging her in the direction of the bar. His smile was bright until his best friend Javy gained his attention.

“Hey, Hangman, you wanna join?”

Jake broke his gaze from the (Y/H/C) after he was sure she made it to the bar safely. “Yeah, sure.”

Coyote handed him a pool stick as Rooster and Payback racked the balls. He took continuous glances at his friend as he waited his turn, telling himself that he was just making sure she was safe.

“Hey, Hangman, how about you stop staring at your girlfriend and you pay attention to the game,” Natasha slurred from her spot next to Rooster.

Rooster nudged the female and gave her a small glare at her words, causing her to look up at him and shrug innocently.

“It’s not like that,” Jake argued with her.

“Oh, please. Do you honestly think we’re all stupid enough to believe that? There’s a reason we’re the best of the best,” Natasha argued back, rolling her eyes at him.

“I think that only applies to flying,” Fanboy spoke up while Coyote began scolding the woman.

“Natasha, knock it off,” Coyote said to her sternly, leaning back up from the pool table after taking his turn.

“Why? I’m just stating the obvious. You said it yourself, Jake’s in love with (Y/N) and she’s in love with him and neither of them wants to admit it,” She slurred out with a shrug.

“That’s not what’s going on. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake argued with her again.

“Mhm, yeah sure. You’re delusional then,” Phoenix finished off before shrugging and moving to sit with Fanboy at his table.

Jake continued to stare at the woman in deep thought until Coyote placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, man, just ignore her. You know how she can be. She’s just busting your balls,” Coyote told him.

“Yeah, no, yeah, I know. It’s just… Phoenix being Phoenix,” Jake agreed with him quietly before looking back at the game at hand.

“But on a brighter note, you gotta admit that (Y/N) is looking pretty damn good tonight,” Coyote commented, causing Jake to follow his gaze and a mesmerized smile to take over his face.

“Yeah, she does,” He breathed out, taking in the woman across the room.

Coyote looked between the two people and shook his head in amusement before landing a smack to his chest. “Your turn.”

Jake nodded at him and turned towards the pool table to take his turn. He looked up from where he was leaning over to take his turn to check on his best friend again. A smile overcame his face at the sight of her already looking over at him. Jake couldn’t help but send her a wink before making his move, causing her to roll her eyes in amusement and turn back to the bar. Jake stood back up from his position and watched the next person take their turn until Fanboy spoke up from where he was sitting with Phoenix.

“Where’d Bob go?”

All he could see was red. He looked away from his best friend long enough to take another turn at 9-ball, and when he looked back up Phoenix’s nerdy WSO was putting drunken moves on (Y/N).

He watched as Bob grabbed your hand from his shoulder as you talked and gripped it in his own. He watched as the man placed his head on your shoulder and you laughed at something he said. However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he placed a kiss on your cheek. Jake had never asked Coyote to hold his beer and pool stick as fast as he did at that moment. The drunk aviator fumbled to hold the items and dropped the pool stick with a clang as Jake began to take quick strides across the Hard Deck towards the two individuals at the bar. His strides became even quicker at the site of his best friend rubbing Bob’s shoulder as he chugged a glass of water.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Baby on Board,” Jake questioned the WSO darkly.

Jake watched you turn to him with a look of utter confusion at his tone out of the corner of his eye but refused to take his eyes off the man standing in front of him. Bob slowly lowered the glass of water back down to the bar and wiped his mouth before looking over at his fellow aviator.

“Just drinking some water,” Bob informed him with a bright grin before picking the cup back up.

“Jake,” you whispered to him, trying to gain his attention.

Jake didn't remove his eyes from Bob and straightened up, taking a step between the two of you. Your confusion was furthered when he made this move, looming over Bob with a threatening demeanor.

“Jake, what the hell are you doing,” You questioned him, placing your hand on his arm and pulling him away from the clueless aviator.

Jake still refused to look away from Bob, causing you to move around the side of him and step between the two. Jake finally removed his gaze from Bob long enough to look down at you. You raised your eyebrows at him in question and watched his face soften. You sighed in slight annoyance and shook your head at him before turning around to look at Bob.

--------

“Hey, Bobby, how about you take your water and go join everybody else again, yeah,” I questioned him sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay,” Bob nodded at me with a smile, turning around and making his way back toward the group.

I watched and waited until he was greeting everybody else before turning back around and looking at Jake.

“What the hell was that,” I questioned him, looking up at him in shock and disbelief.

“What do you mean “what the hell was that?” Baby on Board was clearly making a move on you,” Jake defended looking at me in disbelief as well.

“That's not what was happening. He's drunk Jake. He doesn't know what he's doing,” I argued.

“So that's supposed to make it okay,” Jake threw at me.

“No-,” I started, only to be cut off.

“What do you have the hots for Bob or something,” he added.

“What? No,” I denied quickly, only having a second to shake off my disbelief at his words.

“So it would be completely fine if Rooster were to come over and do the same thing,” He questioned me quickly.

“Wha- Jake,” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.

“Or Coyote, or Pheonix. Maybe even Payback or Fanboy,” he began listing off, causing my frustration with him to grow.

“Jake, seriously,” I slightly whimpered.

“So it's fine for anybody to just come on over and flirt with you and touch you,” Jake snapped back.

“That's not- this isn't-,” I stuttered out, my increasing frustration with the situation making it difficult to properly form a sentence.

“Then what is it, (Y/N)? Tell me what this is. Make this make sense for me,” Jake snapped out at me.

I glared up at him and felt tears beginning to brim in my eyes when I finally snapped “You tell me, Jake. You're the one who made it into something.” 

Jake finally snapped his mouth shut and took a step back from me. He remained quiet but wouldn't remove his eyes from my own.

“What, you have nothing to say now? Because you had plenty a few seconds ago,” I scoffed.

Jake continued to remain silent, now avoiding eye contact. All I could bring myself to do was nod and reach over to grab my drink from the bartop.

“Okay, well… come find me when you finally come up with an excuse for acting like a jealous boyfriend,” I told him, beginning to walk away.

However, I stopped when I felt him place his hand on my elbow.

“What if it were me,” he asked me quietly, causing me to turn and face him with obvious confusion on my face.

“What?”

“What if it were me who was acting like that with you,” he repeated louder. I remained silent as I stared at him, and Jake spoke again at my silence. “What if I didn't just act like a jealous boyfriend and I was actually a jealous boyfriend? Or just a boyfriend in general?”

My confusion changed to shock at his question. I slowly moved back to my spot in front of him and placed my drink back on the bar. I looked down at his hand and watched as it slowly moved from my elbow and down my arm to intertwine with my hand.

“Then I would tell you there's no reason to be jealous because you're the only one I have eyes for,” I told him quietly, looking up from our hands to gaze into his eyes.

I could visibly see the tension turn into relief at my words. See his shoulders relax, his eyes soften slightly, his pinched lips release into a small smile. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something in response, but quickly shut it instead.

“You can kiss me now,” I said to him in encouragement.

“Oh, thank god,” Jake said in relief before releasing my hand to cup my face in both of his, placing his lips on my own.

I released a breath of relief myself at the feeling of his lips against my own, the feeling of his hands holding my face delicately, almost as if he were afraid that I would break. My hands raised to wrap around his wrists, gently gripping them in my own and rubbing my thumbs against the delicate skin. It was a gentle kiss that turned into one filled with passion. He released my lips briefly before moving in for one more. And then one more turned into two… three… until the sound of cheering echoed across the bar, causing the two of us to pull away and look towards the sound. A bright grin broke out across my face at the sight of the rest of the Dagger Squad looking over at us and cheering as if their home team just won a championship game. I began laughing in amusement at the group before looking up at Jake, seeing him have the same reaction as me before looking back down at me.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Darling, but I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to get rid of me,” Jake informed me with a faux smile of apology.

“That’s alright. I think I just might want to keep you around for a little while,” I smirked up at him before wrapping my hand around his neck to pull him into another breathtaking kiss.

---------

Meanwhile, the Dagger Squad watched their two friends with smiles on their faces and relief in their bodies at the thought of no longer having to watch the two of them dance around each other.

“It’s about time,” Coyote said, resulting in everybody letting out different noises and statements of agreement.

“So, wanna bet on when they’ll get engaged,” Rooster questioned, causing everyone to start shouting out dates and timespans.

However, this lasted for a short time due to Phoenix speaking up from her spot next to a still-drunk Bob.

“Wait, who won the original bet,” She questioned.

The group all looked around at each other curiously before looking over at the Hard Deck owner who appeared at their side with her glass jar in her hand.

“Bob won,” She stated simply.

“What,” Was the resounding answer in disbelief.

She nodded at them in amusement before answering. “He won by two weeks. Predicted it would happen by (Y/N)’s birthday.”

The group looked over at a now passed-out Bob, his head slumped down on the table and Phoenix running her hand over his head gently.

“Did he technically cheat,” Fanboy questioned his friends, pointing over at Bob.

“There’s no way he was smart enough to do that when he’s that drunk. I think it was just a lucky break,” Payback argued with him, causing Rooster and Coyote to nod in agreement with the frontseater. 

Penny made her way over to the WSO and gently shook him, causing him to raise his head from the table in a haze, looking over at the bartender in confusion.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” She smirked at him, leaving the jar in front of him before walking off back to the bar.

Bob looked down at the jar in confusion before looking at all of the aviators in front of him who were looking at him in disbelief.

“Did I win?”

[tngrace]

WIP Weekend 🥳

Thanks for the tag @ravens-words maybe this will motivate the muse to finish some of these

Send me an ask with the icon of a fic you want to see a small sneak peek of.

🫂 - Pissed off Slider on Mav's behalf during TGM (with a side of Wolf&Wood)

👨‍👦 - Sick Bradley with Mav!dad (and maybe Ice and Slider)

🥰 - Next Chapter of Letting Go

✈️ - TGM but Ice lives

😏 - PWP Icemav in TG

No pressure tagging: @djdangerlove @toews-a-peek @victimofthemusic @qin-ling @kryptonitejelly and anyone else that wants too 💙