#Top Gun

[enthyrea]

easter is way over but. i wanted to draw baby bradbrad in a little chick costume 🐣

[polar-equinoxx]

somewhere out of sight…

[torchflies]

Okay Top Gun fandom, I have a serious question…

Can Ice dance? Not ballroom, but like club dancing. Can he serve on the dance floor? Because — I don't think he can.

Now, Mav yes, absolutely.

Ice, no way in Hell.

Opinions?

[eliashirsch]

a few sketches of my favorite characters<3

i've been trying to capture their likeness with various degrees of success:) and i just realized how much rooster really looks like goose

[vivwritesfics]

Slow Ride

Jake saves her from a creep at the bar. She repays him in the best way she can think and rides him to his favourite song

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, hand job, fingering, riding, car sex, creampie

There was nobody she hated more than Jake Seresin. Ever since he'd come back to North Island, she hated him. But she hated him because she couldn't hate him.

Working behind the bar in The Hard Deck, she met her share of navy pilots. They were flirts, yes, but they were harmless flirts. But they knew what would happen if they push things, knew the consequences of disrespecting her.

Jake Seresin knew, too. He approached the bar with his usual charming smile and ordered a round of beers. She didn't say much as she got him the round of drinks. But still, even once he had them, Jake stayed to flirt with her.

She didn't flirt back, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. It had happened before, and the guy had flirted with her. He'd taken it too far and had gotten himself kicked out (well, Jake had been the one to throw him out).

There was one thing she liked about Jake, though. The fact that he protected her from the few creeps that had coming into The Hard Deck. He always had an eye on her, even when he was playing pool, making sure that nobody ever made her feel uncomfortable.

That was the thing. Although she hated Jake, he looked out for her. There was a time she was considering quitting her job at The Hard Deck. She loved her job, loved working for penny and loved how polite most of the aviators were. But there were a few guys that made things unbearable.

Until her knight in shining armour stepped in.

Jake didn't always have to step in and save her, but she loved it every time he did.

Like tonight. Cory was a regular, and a regular creep. He'd been kicked out more times than she could count, but he always found his way back in. Always slipped through the cracks and made it to the bar.

Thank God Jake saw him before she did. Even as Cory sat at the bar and whistled for her, Jake was there. He stood beside Cory and cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" He asked, trying to stay between Cory and herself.

Cory rolled his eyes and looked away from Jake. He turned his attention to her, wearing a smile that made her sick to her stomach. "Hey, pretty darlin'," he said, reaching across the bar towards her.

But Jake caught his hand before he could get it any closer. "You're not allowed in here, Cory," Jake said with a sneer as he pushed Cory away. "Get out before I make you get out."

Cory let out a laugh and shook Jake off. "Piss off, Bagman," he said, using the nickname that Jake normally didn't mind.

But Cory hadn't earned the right to use it. And it infuriated him. "Say that again," he challenged.

"Jake," she said from behind the bar, trying to grab his attention. As much as she liked Jake being there, protecting her, she didn't want it to get out of hand.

But Cory ignored Jake. He turned his attention to the poor woman behind the bar. "C'mon, pretty darlin'," he said as he leaned forward. "Let's say we get out of here after this."

The moment his hand reached out and touched the bottom of her skirt, Jake had him out of his seat, holding him up by his collar as he pressed him against the wall. "Fucking try it," he pretty much growled, spit flying into Cory's face.

Everybody in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch. They watched as Jake dropped him, following Cory out of the bar. He made sure he was gone, too scared to come back before he returned to the bar.

"Sorry about that, sweets," said Jake as he sat on the bar stool and looked at her.

She placed a drink in front of him, one he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said. "For being my hero."

Jake took it gratefully. He didn't return to the squad, instead staying at the bar with her until she closed up. Even then, even once she'd kicked everybody out, Jake stayed with her. He stayed with her as she cleaned and closed the bar and waited while she locked the doors.

But still, he didn't want to leave her. So, Jake walked her to her car. It wasn't creepy, no. It was comforting.

"I still feel like I should pay you back somehow," she said as she leaned against her car.

Jake let his typical charming smile come onto his face. "That beer was thanks enough, sweets."

Before she knew it, she was opening the back door to her car and gesturing for him to climb in. Jakes heart thundered in his chest as he did just that. He climbed in and scootched over to the furthest seat, giving her space to climb in beside him.

She did just that. Placing her back into the front seat, she climbed in beside Jake. "I wanted to give you a proper thank you," she said almost sheepishly as she leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her phone.

The music that sounded from the phone was a song Jake immediately recognised. She dropped her phone on the dash and climbed into the back. But she didn't sit beside him. No, she settled onto his lap, her arms around his neck.

"Fuck," Jake hissed as he looked at her. There was no telling how much he'd wanted this. "Are we gonna fuck to Slow Ride?"

She played with the hair at the back of his neck as she ground her hips against his own. "I dunno, Hangman. Do you want me to ride you to Slow Ride?"

He swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That was all she needed to hear. Her lips hesitantly attached to his own and his hands settled on her hips. Jake let her take control. He let her set the pace, let her decide how the kiss was going. Before too long she was kissing down his neck and undressing him in the back seat of her car.

Jake couldn't believe it. Here he was, fucking her in his car. He let out a hiss at the feeling of teeth against his neck.

Suddenly, she removed her hands from around his neck and reached between them. She popped the button on his jeans and immediate freed his cock.

Fuck, he was big. But, compared to the rest of him it was unsurprising. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as she returned her lips to his.

The way Jake was gripping her hips, it was bruising. He reached under her skirt, touching her ass. Squeezing and groping, listening to her little whines and moans as she jacked him off.

The moment her thumb swiped over his tip, Jake ripped the material of the tights covering her ass. He hadn't meant to, just want to pull them down. But he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking good.

As soon as her tights were ripped, it was easy enough to slip his fingers beneath her panties. She was so goddamn wet. And those noises! They were music to Jakes ears.

"Goddamn, sweets," he grunted. The moment he touched her folds, her movements stopped. "So fucking wet f' me." His finger touched her clit and her body fell against his own. "Gonna ride me to Slow Ride?"

Her whines were desperate as she frantically lined his cock up with her entrance. She sank down onto him, eyes rolling back. "Holy Fuck," he grunted.

"Jake," she mewed desperate, her body against his own. He was so goddamn big, she didn't know how she was taking all of him. "Wanna move."

Jake immediately understood. She wanted to ride him, but she couldn’t move. He gripped her hips once again and began moving her, bouncing her on his cock.

It wasn't a slow ride. Not in the slightest. Her cunt just felt too good squeezing him, he couldn't slow down.

When Jake got her moving at her own rhythm, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her chest. Jake kissed her. He kissed down her chest until he got to what wasn't being covered by her bra.

As Jake got closer and closer, he wrapped his arms around her moved her body, her body limp against his. Her cries and whines were continuous, unbroken against the skin on his shoulder. She clenched around him, eyes shut as she came. But she was so out of it, so drunk on his cock, she hardly noticed.

"That's it, sweets," Jake mumbled as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm almost there."

And, seconds later Jake was cumming, his climax taking over him as he gripped her tight. "Fuck, fuck," he grunted, stilling her.

But he didnt pull out of her. He kept his arms around him as she laid against his chest, kissing the sweaty skin there. "That was incredible," she whispered as her body began to shake and shiver.

"We'll have to do that again, uh, sweets? He asked abd she nodded in agreement.

[bisexual-magnus-bane]

Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw

I feel the need,

The need for speed!

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want. 

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock. 

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks. 

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get. 

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for. 

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man. 

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again. 

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.” 

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.” 

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.” 

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked. 

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain. 

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you. 

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear. 

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds. 

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back. 

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms. 

“Hold on Angel,” he says. 

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place. 

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe. 

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars. 

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens. 

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.” 

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow. 

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear. 

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human. 

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says. 

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour. 

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall. 

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor. 

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum. 

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two. 

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now. 

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter. 

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him. 

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste. 

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles. 

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor. 

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy. 

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach. 

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

[military-newsboys]

Cyclone: As some of you may know, I took a bit of a sabbatical last year.

Hangman: Do you mean you shacked up with a hairdresser but then she dumped you?

Mav: Jake, please! Raise your hand if you want to ask a question.

Hangman: *raises his hand*

Cyclone: Okay, I think we should move on.

Mav: The hairdresser certainly did.

[loveinwisteria]

Mamma Mia! Top Gun AU

Featuring :

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell as Donna

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin as Sophie

Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky as Sam

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw as The Boyfriend ™

Donna and the Dynamos being ofc Maverick, Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw as Rosie, and Carole as Tanya.

Ron 'Slider' Kerner as Bill (and yes he Will be pursued by Both Nick and Carole because I said so)

And Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson as Harry (he finds his One True Love at the wedding aka Warlock)

[cherrycruise]

can't believe he's wearing a different top lol ♡

[week-protect]

https://theresa-159.szhdyy.com.cn/m/VklsT6H

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Stars Align: Part 9 - Final

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Mentions of Abuse, Stalking, Sexual Themes, Trauma, Alcohol, Swearing, Home Intrusions, Attacks.

-- Part 8 Here --

________________________

18+ Only - Smutty Chapter + Possible Triggers

________________________

Present:

You walked into the bungalow, sufficiently shaken, and Bradley instructed you to sit down while he drew you a bath.

By the time he got back from the bathroom, he found you fast asleep, curled up on the sofa.

He smiled down at you as he gently stroked your hair from your face, you stirred and hummed, a sound that reached right inside Bradley and tugged at his heart strings.

“I love you, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered, and then scooped you up in his arms and carried you carefully to bed.

Once he’d removed your dress and tucked you in, ensuring you were asleep again, he left the room and checked the door and windows.

He thought Jacob's threat was just that, an empty threat, but he had to be sure you were safe.

Once he was truly satisfied everything was locked and there was no one lurking in the bushes outside, he finally allowed himself to reel in the whole night. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, sitting at the kitchen island while he drank it and his heart rate began to calm, the pain in his knuckles slowly subsiding.

In the bedroom, you stirred and felt around for Bradley. When you realised he wasn’t there, you got out of bed and walked out into the living room, the cool air on your almost bare skin making you shiver.

You suddenly heard a sniffling noise coming from the kitchen.

You stopped in the doorway as you found Bradley wiping his eyes as he sat, a half finished beer on the island in front of him.

“Bradley?”

He spun around, surprised to find you there, and quickly hid his face as he wiped the tears that slid down his cheeks.

You quickly crossed over to him, forcing him to turn around in his stool.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” You cooed, cupping his face in your hands. His hands fell naturally on your hips, rubbing the bare skin not covered by your underwear with his thumbs.

“Nothing, I’m fine. I didn’t see you there.” He hiccuped.

“Please talk to me, there’s obviously something wrong.” You pleaded.

Bradley lowered his head to rest on your chest and he sighed, “I’ve… I’ve never ever felt rage like that before. I’ve been in so many shitty situations before but nothing has ever made me see red like that. I thought I was going to kill him, Birdy.” He looked up at you and his eyes were filled with pain.

“I’m so sorry Roo, I never meant to put you in a situation like that.” You whispered.

His hands tightened on your hips as he shook his head, “No you don’t understand, I’m emotional because no one’s ever meant this much to me, to make me lose it like that. I know I’ve told you I love you already, but I think it’s finally hit me just how much. I don’t think there’s a word for it Birdy.”

“You don’t need to find a word for it, I know, Brad, I know. I can feel it. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” You slotted yourself in between his legs, threading your fingers through his golden curls. He moaned softly at your touch and his eyes closed.

“I’m scared to lose you.” He breathed.

“You’re not gonna lose me.” You kissed him softly, and Bradley’s arms circled around your waist. One more tear rolled down his cheek as he deepened the kiss, standing slowly from his seat.

He pressed you up against the kitchen island, as his kisses grew passionate and hungry. He bent down and picked you up by the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the island.

He slotted in between your legs and cupped your jaw, soft moans escaping both of you as you began to grow hot and desperate for one another.

“I want you.” Bradley growled against your lips, and you smirked as you reached back and unclasped your bra. He leaned back as he watched it fall and his hands briefly moved to caress your breasts.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, and then he was pulling his vest over his head.

You loved his bare skin, he was golden and toned and his huge muscles made you feel so small and fragile.

Your hands trailed down his chest to his v-line, and Bradley shivered as you unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down. Bradley was rock hard underneath his underwear, and you ran your hand over him. Bradley twitched and bit his lip as he watched your small hand run delicately along his length, but he had something entirely different in mind.

Pushing you gently back against the island, Bradley hooked his fingers into your underwear and slowly slid them down your thighs and discarded them to the floor.

He lifted one of your feet and began to kiss up from your ankle to your inner thigh, where he stopped teasingly.

His beautiful brown eyes, now black with lust, flitted up to look into yours as he slid two fingers into his mouth and then through your folds.

You gasped as you lay against the cold counter and threw your head back. Bradley growled as your back arched, and he slid a finger inside you, pumping twice before the second finger joined in your warmth. You whimpered as he pumped slowly, curling inside you, but when you felt his lips gently press against your clit, you bucked into him.

You felt him grin against you and then his tongue darted out and swiped through your folds. He continued to pump and curl his fingers slowly as his lips sucked around your bundle of nerves, his tongue taking turns circling and flattening against you, a pattern that quickly had you panting.

“That’s my good girl, cum for me.” He hummed against you, speeding up his movements, his nose teasingly bumping your clit and his moustache prickling your sensitive skin. Wet sounds spurred you on as your legs began to shake and tighten around Bradley’s head, and you felt yourself coming undone, clenching around Bradley’s fingers with a loud, shaky moan.

Bradley felt himself throbbing painfully as he enjoyed the show from his front row seat, but neither of you were aware of the third pair of eyes that also watched from just outside the kitchen window.

————————————

Past:

The months passed and you and Bradley maintained contact, calling one another regularly, which turned gradually to text.

When Bradley went off to college, the texting and calls grew less and less, with the time difference and classes getting in the way. Truth be told Bradley had begun enjoying partying, and that took up a lot of his spare time.

You went off to college not long after and it was then that your schedules really clashed, and your almost hourly texting became weekly, if that, and calls came to a halt.

It’s not that you didn’t think about Bradley, in fact he plagued your thoughts and clouded your mind almost constantly, at first. But then when you’d started your new job, and met Jacob, you finally had something more tangible to focus your energy on, and you didn’t have the time to think about your feelings for Bradley as much.

Bradley also dove into partying and meaningless relationships to drown out his desperate need for you, and the intense feeling of missing you at every moment of the day. But as you began to text less, his pride stopped him from following up with you, and then the texting stopped altogether.

When Carole passed away, Bradley only wanted you there to comfort him, but he was too grief stricken to even pick up the phone. He knew he should tell you, but he couldn’t face breaking your heart the way his had been.

When Bradley found out he’d finally been accepted into the Naval Academy, the first person he thought about was you. He decided that enough time had passed, and he should break the bad and good news to you. He picked up the phone and dialled your number, but the line just beeped and the call ended. He tried to text you but the messages didn’t go through, and his heart shattered. Had you changed your number and forgotten to tell him?

A few months later, Bradley was in the process of moving, packing up his and his mothers things when he came across the forgotten love letter under the chest of drawers, dusty and lonely on the floor.

Bradley suddenly realised what he needed to do, as he dusted off the letter and his heart began to thud.

The plane journey was agonisingly long because he was so desperate to just see you, hold you and finally tell you how he felt. He’d left it far too long, and he knew it was finally time.

The rental car seemingly wouldn’t drive fast enough, and Bradley cursed loudly as the heavy traffic slowed him even more, as if the universe was trying to stop him for some reason.

Finally he pulled up outside your apartment, his heart ready to explode out of his chest, a beaming smile taking over his handsome face, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the love letter in the other. It was time, finally.

He crossed over the small lawn and looked up at the big bay windows of the apartment block, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

There in one of the windows, totally unaware of his presence, stood the love of his life in the arms of another man.

You giggled as the man kissed your neck, and then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you off somewhere deep inside the apartment.

Bradley’s heart shattered into a million pieces, as he dropped the bouquet onto the ground. He’d waited too long, and now it was too late. A thick lump formed in Bradleys throat as he nodded to himself. He scrunched up the love letter in his clenched fist and skulked back to the car.

That was the last time Bradley would see you, until that night in a New York bar, when stars finally aligned.

———————————————

Present:

A few weeks later, you started to feel tired all the time, more emotional, sensitive and nauseas.

You knew you and Bradley had been less than careful, so you told him you were just popping out for a few things and would be back soon.

Bradley kissed you goodbye and you walked the short distance to the local store.

You felt sheepish and awkward as you paid for the pregnancy test and slid the box in your handbag. As you walked back to the bungalow you considered what a baby could do to your relationship. You hadn’t discussed it so you had no idea if Bradley even wanted children.

You were suddenly overcome with nerves, and very very nauseas.

When you walked through the door, Bradley asked you if you wanted a glass of wine out in the garden while he fired up the grill, you refused and said you were going to take a shower.

Bradley thought it was very unlike you, but he knew you were feeling under the weather, so told you to call him if you needed anything.

You disappeared into the bathroom, breathing a shaky breath as you pulled out the box.

You took the test and you waited, waited with bated breaths. After a few minutes you gained the courage to pick up the stick, and you let out a sob.

Bradley whistled as he started the grill, the sun baking against his broad back. He had never been happier in life and things were perfect.

He had a deployment coming up but that was still a few weeks away, so he wouldn’t worry about that until it was closer to the time, for now he just wanted to enjoy the perfect life he had somehow fallen into.

“Bradley.” You said in a small voice behind him. Bradley spun around and smiled at you.

“Hey beautiful.” He smiled, “Are you okay?” He chuckled.

You were smiling at him but you looked like you were about to burst into tears.

“Yeah, I’m more than okay. But…” and then it started, the waterworks, you couldn’t turn them off and you sobbed.

Bradley quickly crossed over to you and pulled you into him. “Woah woah, what’s wrong? I thought you said you were okay?” He chuckled sympathetically.

“I am.” You sobbed into his bare chest. Bradley pulled back so he could look at your face, worry etched on his now.

“Then why are you crying, sweetheart?”

You sniffled up at him and let out a wet laugh. You reached into your back pocket and handed the stick to Bradley.

He pulled in a sharp breath as he realised what he was holding, and slowly flipped it over.

He let out a short chuckle, a hand moving to his head as he stared at the stick.

His eyes grew watery as he looked at you in awe.

“You’re...?”

You nodded, shaking with adrenaline.

“Oh my god, that means I’m…” his voice was shaky.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a dad.” You said in a small voice.

A smile took over Bradley’s face as he scooped you up and spun you around until you stopped him for fear of throwing up. He put you down as you both chuckled through the tears, he cupped your face and kissed you for a long time.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” he mumbled, “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Are you happy?”

“Are you kidding? I thought life was perfect a minute ago, I was wrong, it’s perfect now. It can’t believe this.” He looked at you seriously, nodding. “Wait, are you happy?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Happiest I’ve ever been, Roo.”

Bradley kissed you deeply, and when he pulled away his grin grew even bigger.

“I want to celebrate, tonight. If you’re not up for going out for dinner, how about I make us something nice, get some non alcoholic champagne, run a bubble bath, give you a massage, what do you think?” He purred.

“Mmmm, that sounds nice.” You grinned up at him.

Bradley went inside and drew you a bubble bath, little candles scattered all around the bathroom to help you relax.

You made a mental note to call Gabby afterwards to break the news to her too, and then you climbed into the bath and sighed as you relaxed in the hot water.

Bradley promised to be right back, he was just going shopping to grab the drinks and something for dinner, while you soaked.

You heard the front door close and sighed as you felt the lingering nausea begin to pass. You rested your hand on your stomach and breathed out a soft laugh, you still couldn’t believe it, but in all honesty you really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Bradley would be the best dad, you could just feel it.

You heard the front door open and close, and you grinned. “You forget your wallet again?” You called out.

You heard no response, so you sank under the bubbles and floated for a while, enjoying the silent echoes that being under water provided. It reminded you of all the times you’d gone swimming in the sea, a sense of peace and tranquillity that relaxed your muscles.

You didn’t hear when the bathroom door opened, or the dull thud of heavy shoes crossing slowly over to the tub.

The only thing you noticed, was a shadow passing across the candle light behind your eyelids, and your eyes flew open as a pair of hands closed around your neck.

———————————

Still Present:

Bradley whistled as he parked his bronco, hopping out and crossing the parking lot to the supermarket. He had a spring in his step as he picked out two bottles of non alcohol champagne, then scanning the isles for dinner inspiration.

He had steak in mind, but wasn’t sure if that would be too heavy for you while you weren’t feeling 100%, so opted for Fettuccine Alfredo instead with a light side salad. As he browsed for ingredients, he felt a shiver creep up his spine, and his heart began to thud. He took a deep breath and pushed the feeling to the back of his mind as he shopped.

He walked past the baby isle, and had to stop himself from letting out a whoop. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick little browse while we was here, he knew it was still very early, but he wanted to buy something that he could use to break the news to his squad with before he left for his deployment.

The thought of leaving you now was almost unbearable, so he distracted himself as he walked past onesies, baby booties and toys of all shapes and sizes.

He chuckled as he came across a teddy bear with Aviators, and knew he had to have it.

________________________

Still Present:

You struggled under the water as the strong hands tightened around your neck. Your nails dug into your attackers arms as you tried with all your might to pry their hands off of you, quickly running out of air the longer you were held under.

Suddenly you were pulled out of the tub and dropped on the cold tile floor with a heavy, wet thud, and you gasped for the air you so desperately needed.

Your eyes were blurry from tears and soapy bath water, and you blinked rapidly trying to clear them, although you already knew who was in the room with you. You could smell him, his musky cologne one that was etched into the very fibre of every nightmare you'd had in the last few years.

''Jake-'' you spluttered, coughing as the words burned your throat, ''Jacob, what are you doing?''

Before you could even sit up, or try to cover your naked body, his hands were around your throat again and he dragged you across the floor towards the bedroom.

You tried to scream, you tried so hard, but it was proving impossible.

With one hand around your neck, his other grabbed your hair and you were suddenly being hoisted onto the bed and thrown into the headboard.

You began to sob as you quickly covered yourself with the duvet, cowering as far away from him as you could possibly get.

''I heard the good news. Congrats.'' he spat, walking around the bed towards you.

''Why are you doing this? Bradley will be home any minute.'' you sobbed.

''Not likely, plus I may have put the chain lock on the door.'' he grinned, kneeling on the bed in front of you. You couldn't move, your body was frozen, plus you knew if you did, he was too fast and too strong and it would likely make things worse for you.

''Don't cry sweetheart, you know I hate it when you cry.'' He swiped your cheek and you flinched away from him. Big mistake.

His grin turned into a scowl within a split second, and suddenly your head was hitting the headboard with a loud crack. You cried out and again your head hit the headboard.

You felt dizzy and Jacob turned blurry again as you touched your head, warmth covering your fingertips.

He let go of you and crossed to the foot of the bed, bending over and grabbing your ankles roughly, dragging you down the bed. You didn't fight it, you couldn't, your body felt limp.

''Anyway, like I was saying at the bar before we were so rudely interrupted... When you left it really hurt me, it was a stab in the back I really didn't expect, you know?'' he chuckled psychotically. ''You could have at least given me the courtesy to say goodbye, or something.''

You groaned, trying to force yourself up and out of his vice grip.

He pulled your legs again, harder this time and you fell back down.

''We were so good together, Y/N. We could have gotten married, had kids by now, if you'd just fucking behaved yourself.''

You whimpered, ''Help! Please, somebody!''

You felt a sharp slap across your upper thigh.

''Bad girl, I'm still talking.'' he tutted, hardly worried about your cries for help, they were so week and quiet, he was sure no one would hear.

You sobbed, your head was throbbing. ''Why are you here? What do you want?''

''Well, that should be my baby. You should be my wife. This should be my life. He stole you from me, so now I'm going to ruin you for him.''

''Fuck you.'' you ground out as you kicked with all of your force at his face.

Most of it missed, but your heel did catch his jaw and he stumbled back in surprise. You crawled to the end of the bed as he lunged for you.

His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked again with your free foot, managing to just slip out of his grip.

You fell to the floor with a thump and forced yourself to your feet. You could hear him climbing off of the bed and walking around to you, but you didn't dare look back.

Running as fast as you could to the bedroom door, you actually thought you were going to make it, but suddenly a hand was in your hair and a strong arm was wrapping around your waist, tugging you back into the room.

_____________________________

Still Present:

Bradley pulled up the drive, parked the bronco and fished the bag of groceries from the back seat.

He whistled as he walked up to the front door and turned the handle. The door didn't budge, so he figured he must have locked it on his way out after all. He dug in his pockets for his house keys and tried again to open the door. The door opened a few inches and stopped.

Bradley cocked an eyebrow in confusion and put the shopping bag down on the ground. He slid his hand up the crack in the door, and his heart stopped as he felt the cold metal of the chain lock in place.

''Birdy? Did you lock the door baby girl?'' he called.

The house was silent, so he tried again. ''Babe? Can you unlock the door, please?''

Nothing. Bradley began to panic. You had never locked the door with the chain lock before, and even if you had, why weren't you responding.

Without further hesitation, Bradley took a step back and launched himself at the door.

It didn't give way, so he walked further back and ran at the door, throwing his entire weight against it. With a loud crack the chain snapped and the door flew open, hitting the bungalow wall with a deafening bang.

And then he heard your muffled scream, desperate and hoarse.

Bradley ran for the bathroom, but found nothing but a pool of water on the floor and candle wax strewn across the tiles.

''Birdy?!'' he called, and a softer, muffled cry slipped through the bedroom door.

Bradley was on auto pilot as he burst through the bedroom door to find Jacob straddling your naked body on the bed, he was still fully clothed, but he had you pinned to the bed, both of your hands in one of his above your head and his other hand covering your mouth.

There was blood on the white sheets and Bradley couldn't see where it was coming from. His body went numb as he surged towards the bed and tackled Jacob off of you and to the ground.

The two men landed with a heavy thump and immediately Bradleys fist lifted in the air and then swung down, connecting with Jacobs jaw. Again the fist rose in the air and went hurtling down onto your attackers face, and you forced yourself off of the bed, grabbing your robe and quickly covering yourself.

You felt sullied, dirty even, having had Jacob see you in your most vulnerable form, even if he had already done so in the past, you were no longer his to see like that.

You forced yourself onto wobbly legs and stumbled dizzily over to where Bradley continued to beat Jacob.

As you rounded the bed, a glint of something shiny caught your eye, but it was too late, the knife was already in the air and plunging into Bradleys torso before you could even utter a warning.

You screamed as Bradley stopped, a shaky hand moving to touch the knife wedged between his ribs. He pulled the knife out and threw it to the floor, gasping. With one last furious glance at the bloodied Jacob, Bradley's fist connected once more with his face, and Jacob was knocked out.

Bradley collapsed onto his side, gasping for air. You fell down next to him to assess his wound, yours suddenly seeming so trivial, and you wanted to scream as the blood pulsed out of him.

''I- I'm going to call an ambulance, keep your hand there.'' you wept, and ran to the livingroom.

The phone rang for what felt like forever, but finally connected, and then everything went black.

__________________________

Bradley woke up in the hospital bed a week later. The doctors said he'd lost a lot of blood and punctured a lung, he was very lucky to be alive. The first thing he asked for was you, but the nurse said you'd been called down to the police station for another statement, and you'd be back soon.

When you did get back, you cried and held Bradley for what felt like forever. You didn't remember much, but apparently you'd just managed to mutter the address to the 911 operator before you passed out, and by the time they'd arrived, Jacob was coming to.

The scene was a complete mess, with two unconscious and one just barely able to speak or move.

They'd called your emergency contact, who just so happened to be Gabby, and explained the situation. They described the two men you were with, and as soon as they did, she went numb. She told them about Jacob and to not let him out of their sight, and that you'd confirm everything when you woke up.

Gabby got on the next flight to California, and was by your bedside when you woke up.

You told the police what happened and when you were ready they started questioning.

Jacob was now safely behind bars, for the time being at least.

Bradley was terrified to ask, but even more terrified not knowing.

''Is...is the baby okay?''

You stroked his face and kissed his forehead. ''Yeah, they're fine.''

''They?'' Bradley wasn't sure he heard you correctly, and he must still be woozy.

''Yeah, they. There's sort of... two of them.''

Bradley chuckled in happy disbelief, and looked at you like he had never seen anything more beautiful, anything more amazing than you in that moment.

He cupped your face and his eyes locked on yours, ''I love you, Birdy...'' Bradley breathed. ''I've loved you since what feels like the beginning of time, and I'll love you until the end of it. I would have really liked to have done this somewhere less... sterile, and without a hole in my lung-'' he tried to chuckle but winced in pain, ''but I don't think any other moment would be better than this...''

He took a deep breath and grinned, ''Marry me?''

___________________________

The End.

Hope you enjoyed this series and this part wasn't too heavy!

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[vivwritesfics]

Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter One

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut

1.5K

In her defence, she didn't realise that The Hard Deck was a navy bar. She just wanted a drink, a moment of peace before she got back onto the road.

It was empty as she sipped her very first drink, savouring it. The longer she sat there, the longer she had to spend I'm San Diego, away from her family. But that was entirely intentional.

By the time she finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her brother). The bar began filling up. She stood up from her seat, fished her keys from her pocket, and moved to leave. But she found herself back in her seat, found herself intrigued.

These navy men weren't like the men she hung around with. They were bigger, much more muscular. She watched from the corner of her eye as a few of them played pool.

"Would you like another?" The bartender asked kindly.

She immediately went to stand. "I can come and get it," she said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring another gin and tonic to her. Another gin and tonic and she wouldn't be able to drive.

As she sipped her second gin and tonic, a man walked in. The only similarity he had to the navy men was that he had aviators low on his nose. It didn't matter that it was dark outside, he sill wore them. A hawaiian shirt was on his body, open to reveal the white beneath. She'd seen her share of moustaches on friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.

Colour her intruiged. She sat back as she watched him, sipping her drink as he wandered over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands he was walking over to the group playing pool behind her.

She lost sight of him then, but thought nothing of it as she drank. Two drinks and that would be her lot.

The man in the hawaiian shirt walked past her. He sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends surrounded him, singing along with joy as she played.

She couldn't look away from any of them. It was quite a sight. She had seen similar celebrations in her own line of work, like when her brother won his first championship.

He finished playing and everybody returned to what they were doing. His aviator friends walked past her in her both as they headed back to their drinks and to play pool. He went to do the same. She watched his watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his hawaiian shirt moved around him.

But, suddenly, he was sliding into the seat opposite her. She couldn't hide her surprise as he sipped his beer and said "Hi."

That was it. Just 'hi'. She'd been chatted up so often in her line of work, she thought she was immune to it. But one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to melt.

But she held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small smile played beneath his moustache, wasn't making it easy. "Hey," she responded almost nonchalantly as she picked up her drink. She'd been trained by her media team for stuff like this. But, one look at the man in front of her, and she wanted to forget it all.

"I haven't seen you around here," he continued.

She didn't think he knew who she was, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks through her. This was freedom.

"I'm just stopping by," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.

He held his large hand towards her. "I'm Rooster," he said.

She took his hand and shook it. "Well, Rooster. Do you always sit with random girls in bars?" She asked.

For a moment, a very brief moment, panic shot through him. But as soon as he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately relaxed. "Only the pretty ones," he replied.

She saw an opportunity. "Well, if I'm so pretty, then you wouldn't mind telling me your real name. Because I'm betting its not Rooster."

He shook his head. "You're right, it's not actually Rooster," he answered. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."

In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.

"Have you got a last name?" Bradley found himself asking.

The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn't said it outloud yet, but couldn't wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was for only one night.

She didn't tell him her last name, instead pulling out her I.D card to get him to read it. He took it, the I.D card looking tiny between his fingers. "Ver... Vershtap..." He tried to say it again, trailing off in a mumble.

"Close," she laughed. "Verstappen."

Bradley continued to blankly stare at her. So she decided to teach him. "Repeat after me. Ver."

"Ver," Bradley repeated. She couldn't help but laugh, it wasn't like it was difficult to pronounce.

"Stap."

"Stap. Verstap," he said nodding.

"Pen. Verstappen."

"Verstappen," he said slowly. But then he said it quicker, surprising himself with just how easy it was. "It's pretty, where is it from?" He asked and took a swig of his beer.

"It's Dutch," she answering, curling her fingers around her glass. "On my dad's side."

Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it forever.

He looked at her I.D again. His face dropped. "You're twenty five?" He asked in surprise.

She nodded her head and sipped her gin.

"I'm thirty six," he replied.

Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him, but she shook her head. "It's not a problem with me," she said and he stilled. "You're younger than my brothers girlfriend and that is my threshold."

So, Bradley sat back dow. As they drank, they spoke. Bradley got her another drink when hers ran dry.

"What are you doing here in San Diego?" He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.

She tapped her nose. "That's for me to know," she said and giggled. But she really wasn't going to tell him. She'd learnt by now that, once somebody knew who she was, they started treating her differently.

She didn't want that with Bradley.

She didn't know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair and she could feel his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. "You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?" He whispered against her lips.

She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna need your words, pretty girl," he said and she kissed him again.

"Yes, Bradley," she said, her forehead against his. "I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster."

Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of the hard deck. As he took her past the other daggers, Nat sent a wink his way.

"Which one if yours?" She asked. She wasn't going to point out her car to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had taken her job. But more on that later.

Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the Ford Bronco.

She let out a whistle. "This is sweet," she muttered as she looked around it.

Bradley beamed. His Bronco was his pride and joy. "You know about cars?" He asked and she nodded her head.

"You could say I'm a car mechanic," she said and giggled.

Bradley opened the car door for her and helped her into the Bronco.

She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. Normally Bradley was precious about his radio. He had it set to a station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn't mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled back in the passenger seat of his Bronco and hummed along.

Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his house, he opened the door for her and took her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips against her own, hands cradling her head as he gently pushed her against the Bronco. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "Fuck," she whispered against his soft lips. She'd never kissed someone with a moustache before, it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought for control.

She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared at him. "So, you gonna take me inside or what?"

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