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#top gun maverick fic
bradshawssugarbaby · 18 hours
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Got My Mind Set On You - Jake Seresin x Reader
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A/N: I know I said fluff, but somehow I got to spicy stuff instead. Oops.
pairing: Jake Seresin x reader
content/warnings: suggested smut.
word count: 1.7k
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Jake Seresin leaned casually against the rustic exposed wooden beam of the dimly lit bar, his gaze fixed on you as you shared a moment of laughter with your friends across the room. With the air of someone who knew they were being watched, he flicked another dart effortlessly towards the board, the satisfying thud of it hitting the bullseye punctuating the room. He took a slow sip of his beer, the corner of his lips curling into a self-assured smirk as his friends marveled at his accuracy.
Javy couldn't help but prod at Jake's seemingly supernatural dart-throwing abilities. "How do you do it, man? You never even look at the board."
Jake chuckled, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "Photographic memory, my friend. I've got every angle mapped out up here," he said with a grin, never once breaking his gaze from you.
Bradley, ever the skeptic, scoffed from the sidelines. "Oh, please. Anyone can get lucky tossing darts at a board."
A challenge hung heavy in the air as Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Care to put that theory to the test, Bradshaw?"
Bradley, never one to back down, accepted with a lazy smirk. "Fine. But don't blame me if your girl decides she wants a more skilled pilot."
"Bring it on," Jake replied, his confidence unwavering.
With practiced ease, Bradley sent his first dart flying, hitting the bullseye just as he predicted. Jake's expression remained cool, but there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes as Bradley repeated the feat with his second shot. Bullseye again.
Jake's smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, raising his pint glass towards the dartboard. "You can't do it a third time."
Bradley's competitive spirit flared as he confidently launched his final dart, only to miss the mark by a fraction of an inch. He turned to Jake, a hint of defiance in his eyes as he admitted defeat.
Jake couldn't resist a playful jab. "Not quite perfect, Bradley."
But any teasing was forgotten as you appeared beside him, your touch warm on his shoulder. "Hey there, sugar," Jake greeted you with a smile. "See me get a perfect streak?" Jake purposefully drawled out the word ‘perfect’, resulting in a dramatic eyeroll from Bradley. 
Jake's smile softened as he wrapped an arm around you, his gaze never straying far from yours. You grinned as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you spoke. “Sure did, honey. You did great!”, you gushed.
“I am great, darlin’, you know that.”
Bradley groaned and rolled his eyes before downing the rest of his beer. With an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head, holding his empty glass up to you and the others before speaking.
“Anyone down for another round? I’ll buy.”
You chuckled at Bradley's offer, exchanging knowing glances with Jake before nodding in agreement. "I could go for another," you said with a grin, feeling Jake's arm tighten slightly around your waist.
“Sure, thanks man,” Jake started, handing Bradley his empty glass, “After, why don’t we rematch? We can switch to the pool table, if you guys would rather, that way you might actually have a chance at beating me.”
Bradley scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, you’re on.”
Javy, always up for a good time, eagerly agreed. "I'm in. Let's see if lightning strikes twice for old Bradshaw here."
Bradley shot Javy a mock glare before laughing, his competitive streak undeterred. "We'll see about that," he retorted, already heading towards the bar to order everyone’s drinks.
As Bradley disappeared into the crowd, you leaned into Jake's side, relishing in the warmth of his presence. The soft buzz of conversation and clinking glasses enveloped you, creating a comforting backdrop to the evening.
"You know, I think Bradley's just jealous," you whispered teasingly, tilting your head up to meet Jake's gaze.
Jake chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. "Can you blame him?" he replied, his voice low and playful. "After all, he's got to compete with the best."
You rolled your eyes affectionately, swatting his chest playfully. "Smooth talker," you teased, but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips.
“Besides all that, I’ve got the best girl, so really, poor Bradley didn’t stand a chance, did he?” Jake whispered as he leaned into your ear, his green eyes fixed on yours as he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 
“The best girl, huh?” You mused, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a new one for me.”
“Mhmm,” Jake hummed as he gave you a playful tap on the nose with his index finger. “You better get used to it, honey.”
As you all rounded the pool table, gathering into your teams, Bradley furrowed his brow as he gestured to you and Jake as Jake kept you close to him for his team.
“Oh no you don’t loverboy.” Bradley chided, shaking his head, “She’s on my team. Together you two’ll just end up getting handsy on the pool table and make us all lose our lunch.”
“He’s got a point there, don’t he?” Jake shrugged as he conceded, letting go of his protective, loving grip on your waist.
You watched as Bradley lined up to take his shot. Observing his form carefully, you tried to make mental notes so you could match his game - you weren’t the greatest at pool, Jake usually used teaching you as an excuse to put his hands all over you, not that you complained. It just resulted in some incredibly short lessons in pool, and some playful sessions in the bed of his Ford F-150. 
Bradley leaned in close to your ear, whispering softly as he came up with a game strategy. “How well can you accidentally distract Jake?”
“Oh, easy,” you responded with confidence, nodding your head slightly as your gaze fixated on Jake, who was lining his pool cue up for his turn.
“Perfect, do your thing.”
You sipped your cocktail and fiddled with the straw, your lips encircling the tip in a way that you knew Jake would interpret as suggestive. Sure enough, as soon as Jake looked up at you, sea-green eyes locked in a gaze at your mouth as it played with the end of your straw, he missed his shot, causing the cue ball to bounce off the edge of the table, not striking anything in its path. Jake straightened his posture, raising an eyebrow at you as you set your glass down to take your own shot. Bradley smirked from behind his beer bottle, admiring your technique for riling Jake up better than any amount of trash talk ever could.
During Jake’s next turn, you shoved your glass into Bradley’s open hand, before fiddling and unbuttoning the top two buttons of your plaid shirt, exposing just enough cleavage to have Jake’s mind wandering. Once again, as soon as Jake caught a glimpse of you, he missed his shot, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as Javy joked about him being off his game.
“I’m not off my game. Everyone has one off game.”
“Just admit it, Jake, you’re not as good at pool as they are. Bradley’s got you beat.”
Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes again, before leaning over to take his next shot, trying to follow up after you sink one of the balls into the pocket, eliciting a high-five and a cheer from Bradley. As the game progressed, Jake caught on to your little game. His cheeks blushed when you whispered what you wanted him to do to you later that evening, he had to clear his throat to cover the involuntary moan that threatened to escape his mouth when your hand caressed his bicep, and he had to position himself carefully behind the pool table while he tried to focus his mind on anything other than the mental image you put in his head when you described what kind of underwear you were wearing under your skirt. 
After losing another round, Jake felt a simmering frustration bubbling beneath his skin, an insistent urge gnawing at him with every passing moment. He clenched his jaw, struggling to rein in the primal desires coursing through him. All he could think about was laying you down on the smooth surface of the pool table, indulging in the raw passion that pulsed between you. But he knew he couldn't act on those impulses, not here, not now.
Instead, he tossed the pool cue down with an uncharacteristic huff, the weight of his competitive nature hanging heavy in the air. His typically composed demeanor faltered, a rare glimpse of vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he turned away. You exchanged a knowing glance with Bradley, silently acknowledging the tension that hung between you all, before following Jake's retreating figure outside.
The night air enveloped you like a thick blanket as you stepped out of the dimly lit bar, the humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. Concern etched across your features, you approached Jake cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
"Jake?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as you closed the distance between you.
"Mhmm?" His response was gruff, his body tense as he leaned against the side of his truck, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt.
"Are you alright?" you asked softly, furrowing your brow with worry. "I wasn’t trying to be a dick—Bradley and I just thought it’d be funny if I, you know, distracted you a little."
Jake chuckled, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes as he turned to face you. "I'm not mad."
"You aren’t?" Relief flooded through you, easing the tension in your shoulders.
"Of course not," he reassured you, his gaze softening as he reached out to pull you into his embrace. "I mean, you got me good, I’ll give you that."
"I did?" A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for his understanding.
"Sure did, Sugar." Jake's smirk was equal parts wicked and enticing, sending a shiver down your spine.
"But now it’s my turn to get you back." His words hung in the air like a promise, igniting a fire in your veins as you met his gaze with a playful challenge of your own.
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simpforrooster · 7 months
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nothing but a gentleman.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.
t/w: soft!jake, some cursing
"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."
The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.
& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.
Believe me, they've been looking at him.
"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.
"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.
Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.
Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."
"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."
The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.
"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.
"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."
"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.
"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.
"Give what up?" he asks.
"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.
For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."
Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.
Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."
The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.
"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.
The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.
Naturally, he doesn't.
"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.
The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.
Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.
Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.
"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.
Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.
Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.
Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.
“My own volition, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”
You guide his lips back to yours.
“Kiss me, Hangman.”
master list.
a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!
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topherwrites · 7 months
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- start of a silver fox
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summary - back from deployment, you notice a change in your boyfriend's appearance. pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader word count - 1.4k rating - no smut, but 18+ anyways, mdni! content warnings & tags - age gap (reader is in her early twenties, jake is in his early thirties) / fwb to lovers / no use of (y/n) / vague allusions to sex / mentions of nudes / mentions of masturbation / no actual smut / mentions of death (sorta) / lmk if i missed anything! a/n: saw these recent photos of glen ➙ became possessed ➙ wrote this. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!
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Jake is back after three long months on deployment, a fourth of your relationship — not counting the first couple months when you were ‘just hooking up’. This is your first welcome back. Having texted extensively with Nat’s girlfriend, Sasha, you were given a pretty good lay of the land by her, informed of what to expect.
Homecoming day has arrived, and excitement has consumed your entire body, making your limbs buzz. 
Awaiting his arrival on the pier, your foot tapping out a nervous rhythm, you stand in the back, allowing spouses and children to be the first in line. You’re just the girlfriend, the one almost a decade younger than him, the one you know his friends assumed wouldn't be around long. You assumed you wouldn't be around long. Jake is a charmer, and when he set his sights on you, you assumed it would be a one-night stand, a fling at most. 
But one night turned into two and then three, which turned into nearly three months of falling asleep and waking up next to him. Most days you’d get a text the second he was done with training, the buzz of your phone always kicking up your heartbeat. 
At first, you’d just meet him at The Hard Deck for drinks, then dinner at sit-down restaurants — the preambles to him fucking the shit out of you growing longer and decidedly less casual. Post-coital, he’d sling an arm around your waist in an attempt to keep you from slipping out, waking up with that same soothing weight on you. Eventually, he casually mentioned that you could keep some of your stuff at his place — for convenience, he said. He tried slipping the suggestion under the radar, pre-coffee on a Saturday morning. Bleary-eyed and half-asleep, you barely processed his words, absent-mindedly humming in response. 
Then you saw the half-cleared-out drawer — which you later learned was a measure in order not to spook you. Like a full drawer would make you wise to his intentions, like he was trying to acclimate you to the idea of commitment, to a relationship with him.
You remember the feeling of placing spare clothes in that drawer; a spare bra and sweatshirt. Jake watching you from the doorway, trying to not act too pleased in response.
You liked him, his company and his laugh and his baffling love of Taylor Swift that he blamed on his nieces. The man under the bravado wormed his way into your brain. 
Though, you could appreciate how he looked puffed-chest and cocksure. Near equally competitive as you are. The first game night you spent with his friends meant you both were banned from ever being on the same team again. Pictionary, trivia, One-Night Ultimate Werewolf — you mopped the floor with them. The rule wasn't entirely the case of sore losers, you can acknowledge the fact that you two were immediately, freakishly in sync. Ultimate Werewolf may have ended in tears of betrayal being shed.
And that's how things progressed for a while, falling deeper while avoiding acknowledging the fact that you were in a relationship. Afraid to say the words and make things complicated. Near everyone in both your and his life were trying to push you both to just trust it. Have a little faith in one another.
One minute you were his girlfriend in all but name, and then you were just his girlfriend. A confession on his couch in the midst of rewatching Veep, ‘Relax, cow eyes’ the soundtrack to everything falling into place.
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Once officers start filtering off the ship, your mind blanks in anxiety. Around you, tears are shed, and poster board is ditched in favor of tight hugs. Laughter and children squealing background noise. You scan the crowd, the sun beating down on you, searching for the handsome shape of Jake Seresin. People come and go, giving you a better view of the naval officers, till you finally spot yours moving towards you. He weaves through the throng with ease, standing before you in a matter of seconds. 
A smile stretches your face, eyes squinting from both happiness and the sun. You scan him, categorizing any minute change. Gray. A small streak above his right ear. Your nerve endings light up like a Christmas tree, the sensation doubling at the slight hint of age. Reaching out, your fingers run across his scalp, nails tracing back, playing with the hair that has decided in his relatively brief absence to go gray. 
He doesn't shy from your touch, his lashes fluttering at the sensation, an intimate moment playing out in public. Though no one is probably taking notice, wrapped up in their own reunion. He does seem to be a hint abashed at your attention. 
He breaks the quiet, “Hey, sweetheart.”
The sound of his voice, clear and unobstructed by distance, rushes through you. Fuck. You're trying to suppress the blatant arousal coursing through your system, keep it out of your voice. Words startled, voice pitched, “You've gone gray.”
Despite your age gap, it’s never been your thing, your Tinder age range has only ever been set 3 years older — but seeing Jake in the flesh, and with a few more grays, is making you muster every ounce of self-control so you don't fuck him in the parking lot, ride him in the backseat of his truck. He probably wouldn't enjoy getting dishonorably discharged.
He hefts his duffle over his shoulder, free hand taking your own to lead you to the car — his truck that he handed the keys over to, something in his gaze when he told you to not let the battery die. Maybe a way for him to feel connected to you, maybe a reassurance that you'd be around when he got back. Your board is still in the bed, having taken up surfing in the mornings since your time was no longer being occupied by Jake slowly fucking you into the mattress.
“I already had grays, I'm just… grayer now.” His pace is quick. It's clear that he's itching to get home. Your boots stamp on the pavement as you practically skip behind him, content with his hand in yours. He looks at you out of the side of his eye, eyebrow raised, “And I wonder why that is.”
“That suspiciously sounds like an accusation.”
“Those photos…” He stops at the teal-striped Ford, throwing his duffle next to your surfboard. Crowding you against the side of it.​, his​​ voice dropping, “​I was opening my mail in the mess, ‘bout gave me a heart attack.”
You’d sent them on a whim — a well-researched whim, ​​you didn't need some random desk jockey finding out your taste in lingerie. But you had missed Jake and wanted him to miss you in return. And what better way to make the heart grow fonder than with scantily clad pictures of your body?
“Well? Did you like them?” You know he liked them, it was a whole production to take them, but even if it wasn't — he’s a man, and you were in lingerie. You looked hot, are hot, present tense. An indisputable fact. And he’s not reserved with telling you and showing you that, but you can't pass up a moment to hear it voiced to you, not after how long he’s been gone.
“I think I have carpal tunnel.” 
You snort out a laugh as he exaggeratedly shakes out his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist for your amusement. Eyes skating along your features, he huffs, “Add that to the long list of ailments you've inflicted.”
Letting your fingers lightly trace down his biceps, you press your body even closer to his, perhaps a touch too scandalous for a parking lot in broad daylight. A coy reply rolls off your tongue, “I keep you young.”
“You're going to send me to an early grave.”
Rising to your toes, you brush your lips against his, holding back from full contact. You feel his breath stall in his chest, desperate for it. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing, his face awash in anticipation. He’s beautiful.
Your palm stroking the side of his head, you brush the hair away from his face, pinky skimming the top of his ear. You single out the silver strands between your fingers, silky soft as ever. He’s real and yours — home. 
“Ditto. Might as well invest in matching plots, right?”
Broad shoulders shaking with laughter, he brushes his nose against yours. Palms cupping the side of your face, thumbs sweeping across your cheeks, he stops waiting. A long-awaited kiss pressed to your lips, neither one of you able to keep the smiles off your faces.
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e/n: thank you for reading!
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kyber-crystal · 3 months
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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leascorner · 2 months
Text
b.b. | Emergency contact
Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
Pairing:  Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food
Word Count: 4.7k
Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!
Masterlist
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Maverick saw her first.
Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…
Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.
Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.
“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”
Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”
He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.
She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.
“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.
Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.
“He can stay, he is family.”
The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.
“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.
“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”
After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.
“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.
This was just a tragic story.
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Bradley saw her first.
He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.
Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...
He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.
He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.
Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.
He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.
Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.
“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.
“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.
Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.
“How is your knee?”
“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”
“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.
“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
Some more silence.
Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.
“I very am sorry.”
Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.
Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.
“I know.”
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It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.
He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.
While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.
“Y/N?”
Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.
“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”
As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.
“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.
“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”
She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”
“It’s okay.”
Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.
“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…
If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.
“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”
Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.
“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.
And even after all those years, she still trusted him.
“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.
When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.
“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”
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“Bradley!”
Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.
Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.
And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.
“Hey buddy!”
Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.
On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”
Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.
After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.
Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.
Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.
“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”
Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.
Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.
Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.
“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.
“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”
For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.
“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”
“I am trying my best.”
“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”
Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.
“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.
“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:
“Thanks!”
While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.
And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.
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“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”
“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.
Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.
“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.
He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Bradley?”
Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.
His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.
“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.
He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.
Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.
“I’ve been cleared.”
Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”
Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.
“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”
If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.
If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.
All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.
“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.
He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.
Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”
Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.
She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.
Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.
They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.
Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.
“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”
665 notes · View notes
lieutenantfloyd · 2 months
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The Little things with Husband! Hangman ♡
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Husband! Hangman who tries (and fails) to impress you in increasingly comical ways—like trying to bring three weeks' worth of groceries inside in one trip
Husband! Hangman who is so in love with you that it's almost annoying
Husband! Hangman who rubs your relationship in the face of each and every single person he comes across
Husband! Hangman who cried through your entire wedding ceremony (and most of the reception)
Husband! Hangman who gets his wedding ring tattooed so there's never any doubt
Husband! Hangman who takes you home to Texas
Husband! Hangman who quite literally falls to his knees when you wear one of his UT shirts
Husband! Hangman who pulls you into his lap anytime you walk within arm's distance
Husband! Hangman who tries to convince you to let him buy a motorcycle just so you can be his backpack
Husband! Hangman who's determined to be the father he never had
Husband! Hangman who now sees that there more to life than just his career
Husband! Hangman who gets a small tattoo on his ring finger for when he can't wear his actual ring
Husband! Hangman who takes you—and eventually your children—out on weekly ice cream dates
Husband! Hangman who has a habit of pulling you down on the couch for a nap whenever he's feeling clingy
Husband! Hangman who heavily considered retiring when you were expecting your first child together, only for you to convince him that he can live out both his personal and professional dreams
Husband! Hangman who only ever told you one lie. that in a box of chocolate, his favorites are the ones you hate
Husband! Hangman who's determined to never let the sparks of your relationship fizzle out
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Taglist: @rosiahills22 @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @blue-aconite @katesmadness @oliviah-25 @another-tblr-fangirl @luckyladycreator2 @eliseline @xoxabs88xox @nyx2021 @fanboyluvr @lisedanie @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @teti-menchon0604 @sass-masterkittenmama @kmc1989
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blue-aconite · 2 months
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the offside rule || j.h.s
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Summary: Jake learns that his girl is crazy about football, but not the kind he expected.
Warnings: jake being a sweetheart, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader
Authors Note: This is inspired by @roosterforme's Sundays Are for the Boys and @teacupsandtopgun's Jake and Flick universe. This is also very self-indulgent and somewhat based on parts of my life.
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“What are you doing?” Jake emerged from the bathroom, only to find his girlfriend on the couch, watching what looked like soccer. 
“I’m watching football, what does it look like?” She didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she reached for the beer bottle on the coffee table. 
Jake didn’t know how to respond. He knew what soccer was, he wasn’t an idiot but he never knew that his girl enjoyed the sport. 
“Soccer, baby. It’s called soccer.” 
Jake knew it was the wrong thing to say as she turned around, an unimpressed look on her face. 
“I’m going to forgive you this time. But in the future, for your information, it’s called football. Not your ridiculous term soccer.” She was all business, a sharp edge to her tone that Jake hadn’t really experienced in their relationship so far. 
There was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as serious as her tone suggested though. Jake flopped down on the couch next to her, plucking the beer out of her hands. “Is this MLS?” 
She snorted, rolling her eyes as she looked him up and down. “MLS is a shit league. It only got interesting since Messi signed for Inter Miami and it’s still shit. You know, we call it the retirement league because it’s where all the greats come to wind down and just kick around.” 
“Hey!” Jake protested. “Doesn’t it have a somewhat good reputation?”
She shook her head. “Baby, I love you but you’ve been greatly deceived.” She patted his cheek, opening another beer, seeing as he had stolen hers. 
Jake grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. Granted, his soccer knowledge was limited but he thought that MLS at least was a popular league. 
“What’s this then?” He pointed to the screen where the game was playing. 
His girl clapped excitedly, tossing the cap onto the table. “This is the greatest league in the world. I give you the Premier League.” She dramatically spread her arms, as if showing him something of great importance. 
In a way, Jake guessed that she was. He had no idea she was this passionate about this but he found it endearing that she did. 
“I recognise that, it’s England, yeah?” Jake was 80% certain he was right but he could also be wrong. Like he said, his knowledge of soccer was limited. 
“Yes! PL is played in England and it’s hands down the most popular and watched league. But there’s obviously others as well.” 
He was a bit intrigued and Jake also wanted to know more about something that made his girl this excited. “Others?” 
“Oh, you’ve got La Liga for example, and Ligue 1. And then there’s Serie A and Bundesliga. My dad used to watch a lot of Eredivisie too. He was a lifelong fan of Ajax.” She quieted down a bit at the end, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her dad. 
Jake pressed a kiss to her shoulder, hand finding hers. He gave a supportive squeeze. He understood now why this was so important to her. 
“Did you guys watch a lot together?” He asked as the game seemingly was paused, the players leaving the field. 
“Yeah. He took me to my first game when I was 4. I barely remember it but I remember the feeling. And he coached my team for as long as I played.” 
That surprised Jake. “You used to play?” It wasn’t something that had come up but he guessed it was somewhat of a sore subject. 
“From the age of five til I was fifteen, maybe sixteen,” she paused. “Uh, I quit playing when he got sick. He wanted me to continue but it just wasn’t the same. It was our thing and then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and..” 
Jake pulled her into his arms, lips pressed to her forehead. “Baby, why haven’t you told me about this before? I would have loved to know more about football if I knew it meant this much to you.” 
She smiled when he called it football and Jake counted it as a small victory. “I honestly don’t know. You’re more of an American football fan and I just figured you didn’t care about this.” 
“I would have cared if you told me. Hell, I know you don’t really care about the Cowboys but you still hang out with me when they play. And wear the jersey.” 
She laughed then, leaning back from his embrace but kept their hands intertwined. “I wear the jersey because I know it gets you all hot and bothered.”
“Well, that’s definitely a perk. You do look very good in blue.” Jake kissed her then, hands sneaking under her shirt to trace her skin. 
She was blushing when they pulled apart and Jake grinned, proud to be the one to make her that way. 
“So is Ajax your team?” He asked, playing with the hem of her shirt. 
“No. As much as I respect and enjoy Dutch football, the Premier League always called to me more. And then I fell in love with Manchester United.” 
Jake’s eyebrows shot up, teasingly pinching her sides. “Fell in love, huh? That means I got competition?” 
She rolled her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for the Red Devils.” 
“Good. Is this them then?” He gestured towards the screen, where the game had resumed. 
“No, they play Aston Villa tomorrow. This is Newcastle vs Arsenal.” 
Jake watched as the team in black and white kicked the ball back and forth. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. I know nothing.” 
She launched into the game, explaining what was happening as well as informing him about the rules and terms. Jake tried his best to keep up but figured he was going to have to do some independent studying to catch up. 
If this was important to his girl, it was important to him. He watched as she kept on talking, gesturing back and forth with her hands, eyes alight with excitement. 
“But there must be leagues outside of Europe, yeah?” He asked after learning that the ones she had rambled off earlier were all based in European countries. 
“For sure, but those are the most popular ones. And considering how much of an impact the Champions League, Europa League and Conference League have, it’s difficult for leagues outside of Europe to compete.” 
Jake’s mind was reeling, trying to piece all the information together. “Wait, Europa League and Champions League? Conference? Where’s that?” 
“All of those are played by teams in Europe. You qualify for UCL when you win your league in your country, and the second tier goes on to play in the UEL and third tier in UECL.” At Jake’s confused expression, she smiled apologetically. 
“Sorry, this is way overboard. How about we keep that for another day and we just keep to the basics for now?” 
Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes please.”
She handed him another beer, smiling softly. 
“So, do I get a Manchester United jersey? It’s only fair, I got you a Cowboys one.” Jake asked. 
He was comfortably leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Initially he had tried to get her to snuggle with him but quickly found out that she wasn’t going to sit still while watching the game. 
“Babe, you’ll get a jersey when you deserve one. Maybe earlier if you can explain the offside rule to me.”  
He was screwed then. “Never mind. I’ll wait.” 
“It’s really not that difficult. A player would be seen as offside if their entire body is in front of the last defender of the opposing team, on the opposing team's half.” 
Jake tried to imagine what it would look like but his mind came up blank. “You’re just speaking gibberish, that doesn’t make sense.”
She smiled softly, a gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a football fan. Just you wait.”
“I can’t wait. I’m also very excited to see you watch your team play.” 
The game was now over and she climbed into his lap, hands finding the back of his head. “Oh, you’re in for a wild ride.” 
Making the most of their position, Jake grabbed a hold of her thighs as he stood up, ignoring her squeal as he headed towards the bedroom. “How about I give you a ride right now?” 
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Two months later, when Jake officially got the offside rule right, a package was waiting for him on the kitchen table when he got home. 
His heart swelled as he pulled out a bright red Manchester United jersey, embroidered with his callsign on the back. There was a note inside the box as well and Jake laughed as he read what his girlfriend had written. 
Now you’re a real football fan. Glory glory Man United! 
Ps. Come find me ;) 
“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” He called, jersey in hand as he stalked the house. 
Her laughter echoed through the house. “Come claim your prize, cowboy.”
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Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @honkytonk-hangman @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch​ @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming @hangmanssunnies
523 notes · View notes
justabigassnerd · 2 months
Text
Patience Worn Thin
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Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader
Word Count - 2,300
Warnings - harassment, violence, injuries, alcohol, drinking, angst, fluff
Summary - after seeing someone bother Bradley one too many times, you take matters into your own hands
A/N - hey y'all I'm back with another anon request and I hope I did it justice! I am the most unconfrontational person on the planet so this was a little out of my depth but it's always good to try new things. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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“Hey babe, me and the Daggers are heading to the Hard Deck for a couple of drinks. Want to come?” Bradley says in his usual soft tone as he sweeps you up into a hug, holding you close as if he hadn’t seen you in years when in reality he had simply gone upstairs for a few minutes and just returned downstairs.
“If they’re okay with me tagging along.” You say, curling your arms around Bradley and resting your head just above his heart and listening to the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.
“They’re always okay with you coming. If they weren’t, they’d have to deal with me and Mav.” Bradley says, his soft chuckle rumbling against your ear before you lift your head off his chest, laughing to yourself as you visualise your boyfriend and your dad teaming up against all the Daggers. While you were Maverick’s daughter, you weren’t an aviator, instead, you had opted to work in nursing and found yourself working in a hospital local to where your dad and boyfriend worked.
“Guess we’re going to the Hard Deck then.” You say with a soft smile as you look up at Bradley as he looks down at you, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. When you both pull away, Bradley’s phone buzzes and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling it from his pocket and inspecting the text displayed.
“We better get a move on. Apparently, I owe Jake a darts match and I fear that if I don’t show up soon my callsign might change from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Chicken’.” Bradley says with a laugh as you move out of his embrace, laughing as you imagine him being called ‘Chicken’ day in and day out at work.
“Let’s get you down to the Hard Deck then. Can’t have my boyfriend being seen as someone afraid of a darts match against Jake of all people.” You say, patting Bradley’s chest before moving past him to get yourself ready to head to the bar.
When you are ready, you head out of the house with Bradley and get into the passenger seat of his Bronco, smiling as Bradley instinctively rests his free hand on your thigh as he drives, singing along to the radio under his breath as he goes. Eventually, he parks outside the Hard Deck and the two of you get out and head into the bar together.
“Want me to grab you a drink? I’ll be designated driver if you want?” You say, turning to face Bradley almost the moment the two of you entered the bar.
“Are you sure?” Bradley asks, soft enough for the moment to be just between the two of you but loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar.
“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with me driving the Bronco of course.” You say with a small smile as Bradley rests a hand on your waist, the other digging in his pocket and holding the Bronco keys between the two of you.
“There’s no one else I’d trust to drive her.” He says, grinning as you take the keys before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.
“Bradshaw! Get your ass over here!” You pull away with a giggle at Jake’s voice ringing clearly over the noise of the busy bar and Bradley rolls his eyes.
“He really knows how to pick a time, huh?” Bradley mutters, winding an arm around your waist and guiding you over to the Dagger's usual spot near the pool tables and dart board.
“Hey, you brought y/n!” Jake greets you enthusiastically as the two of you approach, instantly approaching you, arms outstretched for a hug that you’re more than happy to give him, pulling away and greeting the other Daggers with hugs before returning to Bradley’s side.
“Okay, I’m going to grab you a drink now. Beer?” You say to Bradley as he nods.
“That would be great, thank you.” Bradley says gratefully, kissing the top of your head before letting you cross the bar to talk to Penny.
“y/n! How lovely to see you.” Penny greets you happily, smiling as she leans up against the bar to talk to you.
“It’s good to see you too, Penny.” You say, smiling at Penny.
“Beers for you and Bradley?” Penny asks, instinctively reaching down to the fridge that contains the beers you and Bradley like to drink.
“Just one for Bradley. I’ll take a soda.” You say, pulling out your card and handing it to Penny to start a tab just in case you and Bradley wanted more drinks throughout the evening. Penny soon hands you your two drinks and you thank her with a smile before turning and heading back over to Bradley who was standing with Jake near the dart board.
“Here you go.” You say, holding Bradley’s beer out towards him as he takes it gratefully, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips in thanks.
“Get a room you two.” Jake grumbles, plucking the darts from the board and handing some of them to Bradley.
“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend. Then me and Bradley will be saying it to you.” You say with a laugh as Jake rolls his eyes. You then make your way over to Natasha and Bob, sitting with them and making conversation with them as Bradley and Jake play their darts match.
An hour or so later, after Jake and Bradley are finally done with their final match, you get up, excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave the group to their own devices for a few minutes. However, when you return, you can’t say you were impressed with the scene before you.
When you leave the bathroom, shaking the remnants of water off your hands, you see a woman almost draping herself over Bradley who doesn’t look entirely comfortable with her proximity. You could tell he was saying something to her, but you didn’t know what it was. You soon crossed the bar and sidled up alongside Bradley, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Hey babe. Who’s your friend?” You ask innocently, turning to look at the woman who had at least had the decency to take a step back.
“I’m Mia.” She says, barely giving Bradley a chance to respond, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
“Well, nice to meet you, Mia. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my boyfriend. It's our first time seeing each other in months. You can understand that, right?” The lie comes quickly and easily to you. You weren’t the biggest fan of sounding possessive over Bradley but after seeing how uncomfortable he had looked you didn’t want this person ever coming near him again. With a huff, Mia rolled her eyes and stalked off. The moment she was out of sight you turned to Bradley.
“I didn’t mean to speak for you. I could tell you weren’t comfortable.” You apologise quickly, stopping only when Bradley kisses you, words catching in your throat.
“Don’t apologise.” Bradley whispers after pulling away enough to speak, lips brushing against yours with every word spoken. You nod your head slightly at his words before pulling away, determined to spend the rest of the evening with your friends and forget about the incident that had happened as you hoped it was a one-time event.
Oh how wrong you were.
Bradley had gone to the Hard Deck a couple of times while you stayed home or had work and each time had come back complaining that Mia had been there and had been completely disregarding his obvious boundaries and ignoring that he had a girlfriend, having been convinced it was a ploy to keep her away, he had told you. Bradley had told you that all of the Daggers had tried to help him keep her away, but she was a lot more persistent than they expected. All you did at the moment was hug Bradley tight, feeling awful that he was going through that without you to help him before you spoke up.
“Next time you go to the Hard Deck, I’m coming with you.”
True to your word, the next time Bradley and the Daggers organised a time to go to the Hard Deck, you made sure you were free to accompany Bradley. The two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, walking in hand in hand as your eyes immediately scoured the bar looking for Mia, letting out a small, satisfied sigh when you couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gotten the hint after all, so you allowed yourself to relax as you crossed to the Daggers, greeting them all with a smile.
The evening progressed pleasantly, everyone laughing, playing pool, or gossiping about the new Top Gun recruits. Then the all-familiar bell rang signalling that someone would be paying for a round for everyone in the bar.
“I’m going to grab us all a drink.” You say, instantly excusing yourself to grab a drink for yourself and all your friends.
When you returned to the group, Mia was there. She had apparently escaped your skimmed searches of the bar and snuck in the moment you moved away from Bradley. You approached the table Mickey and Javy were sitting at and placed the tray down, immediately turning around and approaching her.
“Excuse me, I was very polite the first time that we met but I don’t appreciate that you keep trying to force yourself on my boyfriend and make him uncomfortable. Please leave him alone.” You say, firmness sneaking into your voice as you position yourself next to Bradley, noticing how all the Daggers immediately have their attention on you, ready to step in if needed.
“You’re clearly lying to yourself if you think that he could ever be your boyfriend. He’s way out of your league and much better suited to be dating someone like me. Besides it’s not like he was saying no.” Mia says with a snarky tone as she folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she looks you up and down.
“He wasn’t saying anything! Isn’t that enough of a hint for you?!” You cry out, growing more enraged when Mia just shrugs.
“I can tell when men like what I’m doing. Besides, men never say no. I know it can be hard to accept but sometimes men prefer people like me over people like you.” Mia’s chosen words enraged you so much that you did something you never thought you’d be capable of doing.
You punched her.
You would’ve regretted it had Mia not attacked you back. She practically pushed you to the floor and you were quick to drag her down with you, pinning her to the floor and just giving her hell. You couldn’t even recall what you were doing, you were just so blinded by your rage and this woman’s audacity. You kept throwing punches and slaps, as did Mia, a fair few coming into contact with you until you felt two muscular arms wrap around your middle and drag you off Mia and the moment you were clear, you were vaguely aware of Jake and Reuben stepping in between you and Mia as a barrier.
“y/n, honey, you need to calm down.” Bradley’s soothing, gentle voice whispers in your ear as he hauls you away from the chaos and holds you carefully in place, his eyes shining with worry as Natasha appears alongside him while Bob rushes to fill Penny in on what happened. Bradley guides you to the bar, sitting you on one of the stools while Natasha follows Penny to get you an ice pack. The second Natasha returns, Bradley takes the ice pack and holds it near your eye where he could tell a bruise was already beginning to form. You could hear Penny calling for Mia to be escorted out and given a ban from the Hard Deck and all you could think about was how grateful you were that she wouldn’t be around to bother Bradley anymore.
“I appreciate you defending me, y/n but you didn’t need to do this. You’re hurt.” Bradley mutters, eyes scanning you for any more injuries while he holds the ice pack in place.
“I couldn’t let her treat you like that. I just snapped.” You admit, looking up and making eye contact with the man you love.
“It happens to the best of us. I bet Mav’s done something like that before, it’ll be where you got that from.” Bradley says, smiling lightly as he changes the subject to bring a smile to your face which he was successful in doing.
“There’s no way dad hasn’t punched someone in the defence of someone he loves.” You giggle, wincing lightly when Bradley applies a little bit more pressure accidentally to the tender area, which of course makes him apologise instantly.
“I have to admit. It was really attractive seeing you defend me like that.” Bradley muses, moving the ice pack away from your eye and setting it on the countertop.
“Really?” You ask, feeling your face heat up at his words.
“Really. No one’s ever defended me like that before. It just means a lot more because it’s you.” Bradley says softly, cupping your face softly and leaning in until his lips meet yours, the kiss alone conveying everything Bradley needed to say. You both pull away when you hear the Daggers calling for both you and Bradley and you laugh as you glance from them to Bradley who lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.
“I think we should head over so you can talk to your fans, huh?”
575 notes · View notes
Text
"Whiskey sour? Classy." - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
[TW: insults, harassment, explicit language]
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🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || TOPGUN-inspired playlist
SUMMARY: When new aviators arrive at the base, Rooster invites you to hang out with the Dagger Crew and the freshmen. One of the newcomers gets in over his head and Rooster gladly accepts the honour of bringing him down a peg: no one gets to talk trash to the eventual Mrs. Bradshaw.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k
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"Hey, Bradshaw, where'd you leave wifey?" Hangman asked.
Although the group was disillusioned about the seriousness of your relationship, the nickname came into existence only after they witnessed you nagging at Bradley for being irresponsible after he came back with Maverick. Truthfully, he liked how it sounded - for you to be called his wife.
The Hard Deck was booming with life, filled with twice as many people as it usually was. It was supposed to be a sort of welcoming party for the newcomers but mixed with the locals - it was simply Miramar showing off its essence, the brash young blood pumping the town's atmosphere with new, exciting energy.
"Should be here any moment. Maybe I'll tell her you missed her."
"Careful, she might just run to me."
Bradley was about to continue the friendly scuffle with Jake but Pete tapped him on his shoulder and pointed you out in the crowd by the bar:
"Found your missus, kid."
For a moment, the whole world stopped just so Rooster could admire the woman he had the highest honour of calling his. You were wearing a thin bodycon dress - the very same one he associated with long, sleepless nights and the plethora of beautiful sounds you could make. The light, sunny yellow colour looked lovely on you, bringing summer heat into the onlookers' hearts. You wore the same makeup you always did, your hairdo wasn't different either but for some reason, spotting you in the faraway crowd, Bradley felt the same way he did the first time he saw you. He remembered how embarrassingly nervous he was and how his mouth dried out when you stared at him with a smile. From that day on, his condition was only getting worse.
"Just don't drool," Phoenix warned him. The group laughed and Rooster was momentarily brought back to the present day. The sound of cue balls hitting one other resounded in his ears together with the very bar-like sounds of laughter, the click of glass and 80s hits playing on the jukebox.
The game of pool resumed but not for long:
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, there's an enemy on the front line," Maverick announced while vaguely pointing towards your direction. With furrowed eyebrows, Bradley turned around to see what Pete was talking about. There you were: standing awkwardly next to one of the newcomers who was leaning against the bar. In a way, he understood the interest in your beauty. To him, you always looked like a star but Bradley was far from objective - he did, after all, give you those dreamy, puppy eyes of a fool in love while you were wearing a stained hoodie with your university's logo, sleeping and drooling on the pillow. "He's going for the kill, the very classy chest check."
Clenching his jaw, Bradley passed his cue to Bob, who gladly accepted it. The game of pool was temporarily withheld as the Dagger Crew watched the ordeal unfold with great interest. Rooster stormed through the crowd towards you and Maverick set his beer down, getting ready for the approaching 'overboard' or a fistfight.
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You've never seen the Hard Deck packed the way it was that night. All the khaki uniforms were blending into one, beige mob, giving a quite humorous impression that it was you who was dressed inappropriately for a night out at a bar. Somehow, it made you happy to see Hard Deck bursting with life - for once, Miramar wasn't just a military town at the end of the world. Squeezing through the beige crowd, you finally reached the counter, only to be greeted by Penny's wide smile.
"Good to see you, (Y/N). Prince Charming's been waiting for you." She vaguely pointed towards the laughing group of aviators playing pool with too many people. Among the sea of military uniforms, Bradley's Hawaiian shirt looked adorably out of place. Although he looked better in blue, that grey shirt he was wearing had to be your favourite - the very same he wore when you met him for the first time.
"Oh, come off it," you laughed. A flustered blush warmed up your face. The rouge on your cheeks slightly camouflaged the flush.
"Hey, I'm not the one calling you wifey."
For a moment, your eyes were glued to Rooster, watching him just having fun with his friends. There wasn't a day where you didn't praise the whim of the cosmos for making Bradley love you. Penny laughed seeing the buttery look on your face. Honestly, she found it quite adorable that years had gone by, the two of you had grown older and matured but the hopeless love of your younger days still stayed around and threatened to never abandon its post. Despite that, she was grateful she didn't have to witness you at the start of your relationship when lovers tend to be more embarrassing than should be humanly possible.
"He could make a ring out of spit and cheese puffs and I'd say yes in a heartbeat," you confessed. Truthfully, the idea of actually marrying him had been haunting you for a few weeks. Those wandering thoughts were always cut short when your imagination began painting you and Bradley as parents, suddenly flustered with the seriousness of the daydreams.
"Now, don't go around giving him stupid ideas." Although it was meant as a scolding, Penny's amused tone made her words sound not serious. "Just tell him. Anyway, what will you have? The usual?"
"You're a woman after my own heart, Penny."
"That I am, sweetheart. One whiskey sour coming right up."
"Thank you!" you called after her.
Penny barely turned around to prepare your drink and serve another round of beers, when someone approached you:
"Whiskey sour, huh? Classy." The man was, too, wearing the khaki uniform. He was leaning against the bar, trying to appear all suave and nonchalant; the position made the muscles in his toned arms even more accentuated and you just knew he did it on purpose.
"I guess you could say that," you answered with a disinterested shrug. It was, after all, only a drink: nothing to gatekeep or make a competition out of. Whatever one drinks, the hangover always tastes the same. "The first drink I ever had."
"Then it must've been quite recently, no?" he asked with a grin. "You sure you're old enough to be here, little lady?"
"That's a strange way to say I look young." An awkward chuckle left your lips. You just wanted to deviate the conversation from further going down the uneasy lane. "Zeus?" you read from the patch on his uniform. "Where'd that come from?"
"The real answer is that I got electrocuted in the academy." After his explanation, the man's gaze audaciously dropped to the deep cleavage of your dress. A cold shiver of discomfort run down your spine. "The cool answer is that I'm just great with the ladies."
To your own, deepening horror, his eyes remained below your chin as he spoke. Did he really think it would work on someone?, you asked yourself. Some more naive part of you believed he was oblivious to his inappropriate behaviour or maybe he was being creepy just for the shock factor.
"Can you... stop staring at my breasts?" you asked awkwardly after a longer while. Uneasiness was dripping from your words and, judging by the livid expression on Rooster's face, not only from them.
Zeus scoffed and his self-assured grin momentarily turned into a strange mixture of lewdness and mischievousness, making your skin crawl.
"Come on, you want me to stare, doll," he said in a low voice. Zeus licked his lips and you felt your whole body tense up. Although he hadn't touched you, his awful way of being made you feel dirty - and not the kind one can scrub off in a hot shower. "If you didn't, you would've covered up."
"What the hell, man," you heard yourself saying. The situation was so odd and awkward, that you had no idea how to act. Flustered at the unwanted attention, words were stuck in your throat. You were telling yourself to go, just leave the man as fast as you could but for some strange reason, you found yourself unable to move like a deer caught in the headlights; only at that moment, the figure of speech could be taken quite literally.
"I know you're just teasing me, sweetheart," Zeus confessed as if he was letting you in on a big secret. "But I prefer a straight game."
Zeus reached for your bare shoulder but someone stopped him. Rooster's fingers were wrapped so tightly around the man's wrist, that their skin turned white. The sight of the familiar Hawaiian shirt allowed you to take a deeper, only slightly calmer, breath. Maybe Penny was partially right: he was Prince Charming, except for the off days when he part-timed as Knight In Shining Armor.
"How about you fuck off from my wife," Bradley gritted through his teeth. His face was red and you were left doubtless that it was the only colour he was currently seeing. There was no doubt that if nature gifted him with just a little less self-control, Zeus would be getting his own jaw dislocated.
"Chill, man," Zeus chuckled awkwardly and tried to force his hand out of Rooster's iron grip. His effort was in vain, a wince of pain slowly making its way unto his face. However, even bad circulation to his hand couldn't keep his audacity out. "Not my fault you let your wife leave the house dressed like that, amigo. And not my fault the girl doesn't wear a ring."
"Well, it's your fault you're a dickhead."
Still clutching Zeus' wrist, Rooster forcefully pulled him away from you. Penny began ringing the bell behind the counter, visibly pleasant at the turn of events. The other clients cleared the way from the bar to the door, already starting to chant 'overboard'.
"Welcome to TOP GUN, pal," Maverick said while he and Rooster grabbed the man under his arms. Together, they began dragging him out of the bar as the regulars cheered them on. "Rule number one: Mrs. Bradshaw is to be respected at all times."
Soon after that life lesson, Zeus was literally thrown out of the Hard Deck and the front door closed in his face. Some of the guests laughed at the interesting turn of events but the general majority went back to their drinks, used to the particular culture of the beach bar.
All gloating and pleased with himself, Bradley made his way back to you, his hands sneaking around your waist without much thought.
"My wife?" you repeated with amusement. A bright smile quickly appeared on his face - he was growing more fond of that thought with each passing second, each mention of the, hopefully inevitable, possibility. "Don't remember marrying you just yet."
The anger he had been drowning in moments ago, was now nowhere to be seen and Bradley's face returned to its soft expression - a default for whenever you were around.
"Really?" he asked with theatrical confusion. His eyebrows even furrowed for a moment. "Must've been my dream then."
"You dream about me often?" you asked as a soft grin crept unto your face. Bradley was the type of man who would flirt with his girl even after having spent his entire life with her - always showing appreciation of the beyond favourable turn of events. Your fingers were mindlessly trailing the hem of his shirt.
"Anytime I can." Considering the gentle look in his eyes, it might just be true.
The laughter his words elicited from you was cut short as Bradley cradled your face and kissed you slowly. Some of the nearby guests started yelling 'bitter!', clearly believing Rooster and Maverick's slight embellishment of your relationship status.
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honeyhenry · 11 months
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Apple Pie and You and I
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A little story of the Seresins aka Hangman being a softie for his girl. Fluff, no warnings, please enjoy!
Jake Seresin, a lone star state boy through and though, always found himself feeling closer to home with a warm apple pie and a country song playing with a gentle thrum on his Pop’s old record player in the room next door.
The only time he felt closer to a sense of home was with you - his lovely lady who had managed to lure and capture the Hangman hook line and sinker by batting her pretty lashes and making him work hard for her attention. It had taken him 3 weeks of smirks that turned to smiles, and insistence that turned into nothing shy of begging, for you to agree to a date. The only holding back he’d done was in omitting to state the thought that had urged him to act in the first place; “Oh, she's gonna be my wife someday.”
The typically cocksure brazen pilot hadn’t the need to utter those words for another 14 months, past the utterly exclusive dating period, nor in between months of loved up sweetness and the pained inevitability of month-long deployments. He’d told you the very moment after his 1 month deployment - which had extended into 7 and a half weeks - of a monogamous routine, where a few pictures and fond memories were just not cutting it any more.
The tarmac had scratched the khaki material of his bags as he'd dropped them with a heavy thud to the ground, only eager to reach your arms sooner. Your little sundress catching in the soft wind, the warmth of the sun heating your cheeks and nose as he engulfs you in his arms, holding tight before he'd pulled his head away to take a proper long look at your pretty face - and then brought your lips to his. He'd kissed you over and over and over, the smile on his face growing every time, your eyes clear and watering, having waited for this moment.
And quietly, once the decision was made to catch your breaths, he'd whispered, lips ghosting over yours, that you were it for him. That he was going to marry you.
According to the Navy, Hangman had no one at home, no next of kin unless you provided the contacts of his parents down in their ranch a few states away should there ever be the need for the passing over of belongings and dog tags to fatefully occur. But Jake Seresin? He had a whole life to get back to; one he needed to kick start with a ring and a question.
The ring itself would be an heirloom, no doubt about it, and had required a trip back to Texas to see his family and share with them his upcoming plans. Having met you a handful of times over Christmas and on big family birthdays, the Seresins were entirely on board. Jake's Momma had given him a close hug with tears in her eyes while his Dad and siblings cheered and grinned the classic Seresin smile. Their family often grew each year, but his Momma and Grammie had worried that their headstrong, flirtatious boy would get too caught up in the ways of the world to settle down. He was a softie at heart, and you had been the best thing to ever happen to him.
They adored you. Enough for Grammie to take her grandson into her study, and open the jewellery box safely nestled inside a locked cupboard door. "This one is a diamond", she'd said as she'd taken out a piece." It's been in the family since before I was born. It's even got the family name engraved inside." Jake had taken it, listening respectfully to his Grammie but still lost in the thought of how the ring would look so beautiful on your finger. Thinking of you being his, forever.
That had been 18 months ago now, and the glinting stone on your ring finger, alongside a shiny golden wedding band, showing that all had gone to plan. Hangman proudly wears his ring too, occasionally looping it around his dog tags if need be. However currently, in the Lone Star state, the dog tags are off and his ring fits snugly on his fourth finger as he holds you close.
It's campfire night at the ranch, and you sit on his lap, curled in and admiring the way his face has caught the sun, inspecting every detail of him in the glow of the fire he had helped to start. He looks between his family; uncles, cousins, grandparents, now and then but his main focus is always you. Your hands clasp his left one as he uses the other to nurse a beer after working up a sweat teaching his youngest nephews to play football earlier that day. It had been so endearing to watch as you'd prepared the barbecue and baked fresh cookies using the special Seresin recipe, with his Momma and sisters.
"I got the recipe from your Mom, for the cookies, so we can have them at home." You'd whispered sweetly as the chatter around the fire continued. "Do you know", Jake murmured, looking deep into your eyes as his green ones pierced into your soul. "Do you know how much I love you?"
Your giggle had been soft and the eye roll that followed made Jake smirk lovingly. Still in awe of how he got the girl that barely spoke to him but was still batting her lashes and playing hard to get. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the point just above where your rings lay on your finger.
"The kids'll love 'em. You're gonna be a great Mom." He stops smirking and now looks at you, fully focused with a soft, genuine smile. Placing the beer down, he rests his hand on your stomach, underneath the sweatshirt of his you've borrowed that splashes the words University of Texas, Austin on the front. It's old and thinning out but it smells of Jake, so it's something you will happily bask in and nap in and snuggle in until you have to leave his family home once more.
"Shhhh. I already think Grammie knows", you scold him. And she does. Grammie knows and as his Momma watches the two of you interact now, she's certain that she knows too. Call it a Mother's instinct. Jake's little check-ins throughout the day had not gone unnoticed, nor had your daily naps that you blamed on the heat, despite it only being the middle of May.
"But Grammie knows everything, a few more days and I can finally tell 'em all. Been dyin' to sweetheart." His hand rubs your stomach gently, not to raise suspicion but also to comfort you. Sure, as the cookies and apple pie were brought out, he had felt a little nostalgia, but with you in his lap wearing his ring, and his baby in your belly, Jake Seresin had never felt more at home than in that moment.
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ervotica · 5 months
Text
treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen
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warnings: SMUT (18+ only), p in v, overstim, cunnilingus, aftercare ofc, bradley is the hottest man ever xx
kinktober masterlist
You love it when it storms; the distant crackle of thunder on the horizon, the way the wind sweeps everything sideways until all you can hear is the pounding of droplets against the window panes.
You especially love that, oftentimes, it means Bradley gets to come home early.
He’s slipped straight into the bathroom on his journey into the house, past the living room and the kitchen and you. You hear the shower turn on and the whine of the old pipes that most definitely need replacing. You hear exactly when his bare skin hits the hot spray of water, almost picturing the steam rising and clouding up and around him.
You tiptoe to the en-suite as quietly as you can, each item of clothing slowly discarded the closer you get to what you want.
The bedroom comes into view and you see steam curling around the base of the bathroom door; it's ajar.
You can feel his eyes on you as it creaks open, his smirk as he takes in every inch of your naked skin - the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, the pudge of your tummy.
“Hi, baby,” he murmurs; his thick fingers grasp and squeeze at the fat of your hips before you've even fully stepped into the shower, and he tugs you close, pressing your chest to his.
“I missed you,” you purr, forehead nestled into the juncture of his neck “Glad you’re back early.”
He palms the globes of your ass, rocking the semi he’s already sporting against your naked pussy.
“I missed you more.”
You relax forwards into him and you can feel his smile imprinted into your shoulder, the thick mustache on his top lip scraping against your soft complexion.
You tuck your arms underneath his and hum, the rake of his fingernails up and down on your back enough to have your eyes fluttering closed.
His hands are slow on their descent, pausing and halting to toy with every part of your body he loves; his thumbs slide across the tiger-like stretch marks on your thighs before moving inwards. You shudder, brows knitting and tight where you still lazily rest on his shoulder.
Two fingers slip between your folds, the broadness paired with the rough callouses enough to have you leaning forward into his hold more than you already are. He’s happy enough to take your weight, hooking a forearm beneath your knee and caging you in against the glass wall of the shower.
“There she is,” he coos, teases really, a thick thumb coming up to draw tight circles on your little nub. He delights in the way a soft moan pushes past your lips despite your efforts to keep them concealed – you don’t want to inflate his ego too much, let him know this is all it takes to have you keen beneath him. It’s no use really; his confidence is enough to carry him without any sort of technique, it’s just luck that he has that too.
You tremble as his movements get hard and fast against your poor little cunt and he sinks to his knees. The tip of his nose nudges at your clit, and god, you swear nothing ever prepares you for how good he makes you feel every single time.
“You just relax, angel. Gonna take care of this pretty little pussy for you, okay?” His voice is husky and deep but smooth and sticky like honey. You could listen to him forever.
His tongue is on you before you even have time to breathe; first fast, flicking against your bud like slaps, quick in succession, and then slower as he flattens his tongue out and slurps, makes the most obscene noises as his mustache tickles against your clit. Your thighs shake against the sides of his head, your fingers raked through the wet hair stuck flat to his head, all the while he’s focused, soaking himself with the juices from your drooling hole.
You’re close by this point, chest ragging breaths, feet sliding against the wet shower floor as Bradley pins you up by your hips and doubles down.
That’s all it takes, really, though you’d never admit it. You gasp and that coil that’s been building snaps with such a force you see white.
You let out this long, keening whine, trembling in his forceful grip as your cunt tenses and spasms under his mouth.
“Baby, I’m done,” you gasp, “Please, fuck, that’s enough.”
He only grins from his place between your legs and slips two fingers into your still quivering hole.
“You’re gonna give me another one, sweet girl.”
You can feel yourself sweating despite the onslaught of water pounding on top of the pair of you.
You’re already drawing to your peak again, a heat growing in your cunt where Bradley is skilfully crooking his fingers against that spot that makes you see stars.
“Attagirl, give it to me,” he coos, before going back to slurping at your cunt like a man deranged.
You have no choice but to oblige him, and with a shriek, you cum on his tongue and fingers once more.
He releases you slowly, straightening and wrapping your thighs tight around him as the head of his cock nudges at your entrance. He pulls you down and around him with a groan, his head going straight to the juncture of your neck as he punches his cock up into you.
A scream falls from your kiss bitten lips and your nails tighten and dig into his shoulders; you’re so sensitive, you can feel every brush of his cock on your insides, every vein and ridge, every little movement.
“Two more,” he grunts, teeth scraping at your jaw. “Two more and you’re done, baby.”
He’s relentless in his pursuit of your next orgasm, pace fast as he thrusts up into you time and time again.
It’s not long before you’re on the precipice again, and Bradley feels the telltale sign of your pussy strangling him, pulling him further in, just as you squeak and cum around him. You soak him with it, your legs squeezing his torso tight as you burrow into his skin to try and escape this intense pleasure he’s pushing down onto you. You’re alight with it, every nerve ending on fire as you shake and moan.
He doesn’t stop; you’re far past your threshold and still he continues on, the squelching of your pussy enough to have him hardening even more, more than he ever thought possible.
He knows he’s not going to last much longer so he’s quick to press a thumb to your trembling clit, pushing in tight, fast circles as he pushes you from one orgasm and almost instantly into the next.
“Last one, baby. Give it t’me, okay? You can do it.”
Your clit kisses his pubic bone as he pushes all the way in and grinds against you, fervour lacing his every movement as he desperately forces you towards the edge again.
You’re dead weight at this point, head rolling against his shoulder as he hikes you up and around his waist and sets a furious pace.
“Jesus, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” He grits out, biting at the slope of your shoulder until you can’t hold on any longer and cum with a cry; your whole body tenses and snaps like a bowstring, and you’re clinging to Bradley to hold you up, sagging as he finally chokes out a gasp and fills you. You flood with warmth and he lowers the pair of you to the floor under the hot spray of water. You’re in his lap, eyes closed as you already begin to doze off with the skin on skin contact.
“C’mon, honey. Gotta get out before the water gets cold.”
He towel dries you and carries you, limp, to the bedroom; finds the baggiest t-shirt for you to snuggle up in and a pair of panties for your sore pussy. His sharp grin tells you everything you need to know before the words leave his mouth.
“I’ll come home early every day if I get to fuck you like that.”
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bradshawssugarbaby · 13 days
Text
Urban Cowboy - Jake Seresin x Reader
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pairing: Jake Seresin x f! reader
warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v, mildly mean!dom Jake, teasing, jealous Jake
word count: 3.2k
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The sounds of some 80s pop song echoed throughout the Hard Deck, a cheap colourful strobe light flashed around the room, its rainbow coloured beams striking random bargoers as they began to dance along to whatever was playing. It was new idea your aunt had come up with - doing theme nights at the bar once a month as a way to freshen things up and breathe new life into the military bar scene. 
Since you moved here four months ago, you’d gotten familiar with the regulars - there was Bradley Bradshaw, a man far older than he looked, with a penchant for comandeering the piano if the bar needed livening up, Natasha Trace, who had a fiery personality and often kept the other guys in their place, especially when the beers were flowing and they started flirting with unsuspecting patrons, Robert Floyd, the shy backseater who was always polite, tipped well and seemed to be the permanent designated driver on nights out, Reuben Fitch, who stood about a foot taller than you, and always had a witty comeback on hand, just in case, Mickey Garcia, who was sweet, but could talk anyone’s ear off about Star Trek, and Javy Machado, resident score keeper and pool table champion. 
Leading the group, was your Aunt Penny’s boyfriend, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He often would come in, finding a table at the back of the room for his squad before abandoning them to spend the evening at the bar, chatting your aunt up and offering up any excuse to come behind the bar and sneak a hand to her hip or steal a squeeze of her rear. It was sweet the way your aunt and Pete were loved up, like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 
This afternoon, Pete came in at four o’clock sharp, just as he promised to help set up. As he hung a couple of decorations you and your aunt had managed to find online, he turned to you and smiled, watching as you prepped the theme night’s cocktail menu.
“I forgot to tell you, another one of my guys is going to be here tonight. He’s been off training at a different base for the last few months, just landed in this morning. You’ll like him. He’s a firecracker.”
“Isn’t that your way of saying he’s a cocky asshole?”
“I wouldn’t say asshole. He’s just very…confident. I think you’ll like him though.”
“Are you talking about Jake?” Penny piped up as she looked at Pete, watching as he climbed up the step ladder to hang another decoration from the ceiling.
“Yeah, don’t you think they’d hit it off?”
“I think she might hit him.”
“What? No way. Jake’s not that bad.”
Penny scoffed and shook her head, laughing. Holding her hands up in surrender, she walked away, retreating back to the bar to begin making sure all the key ingredients to your drink menu were where they needed to be. You continued to stuff the evening’s special menus into their plastic protective sleeves, shaking your head at Pete’s attempts to try and set you up with someone from his squad. It wasn’t the first time, you’d been on a date with Bradley once before, but found the age gap was too great between the two of you, with Bradley in complete agreement that you were much better suited as friends than lovers, and on a date with Reuben, who, despite efforts between the two of you, there was no chemistry shared there. 
As five o’clock approached, you hurried into the back stockroom to change into your themed outfit for the night, pulling your hair out of the velcro rollers that Penny had helped you wrap your hair up into, creating the perfect 80s voluminous curl that would make even Christie Brinkley jealous. Your tight fitting Daisy Duke style shorts accentuated your curves, hugging your thighs and hips in all the right places, your crisp white button down shirt tied just under your bra, showing off your tanned, soft midsection. A pair of mid-sized silver hoop earrings hung from your earlobes to complete the look. Your aunt’s stash of Aqua-Net hairspray was all you needed to finish it off, stepping out the back door to shake your curls out and spray them with enough hairspray to ensure they wouldn’t budge for the night. 
You reentered the bar to find Pete’s friends piling in, the other regular patrons all trickling in and getting comfortable as they came through, turning the bar into a sea of cheesy fake mustaches and 80s style Hawaiian shirts, brightly coloured polos and coordinating Bermuda shorts, wigs and legwarmers. The evening was quickly livening up, and you got to work behind the bar with your aunt, pulling pints and mixing drinks, firing off orders left right and center as the bar filled with partygoers. 
An hour into the night, Bradley approached the bar, his aviator sunglasses perched atop his chocolate coloured curls, his loud, brightly coloured Hawaiian print shirt buttoned just enough to allow a few sparing curls of chest hair to peek out from the top. He leaned against the bar, smiling at you, his mustache neatly combed to closer resemble a style from the 80s. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was trying to emulate Tom Selleck. You’d seen pictures of Bradley’s dad and Pete from back in the 80s, and recognized the shirt anywhere. It was clear Bradley was dressed identically to his father, and you had to admire the dedication he had to the theme. 
“What can I get you, Bradshaw?”
“Hi dollface, I’ll take a Budweiser. And a chance to take you for a spin later?”
“We’ve done this before, Bradley,” you laughed as you cracked the top off the beer bottle and slid it across the counter to him. Bradley shook his head as he sipped the frothy liquid, grinning as he set the bottle down on the counter.
“I didn’t mean you. I’m practicing. I can’t be dressed like this and not use some kind of weird 80s shit to impress a girl, right? I’m just…using you for practice. Did it work?”
“Bradley, why don’t you, I don’t know, just, be yourself?” 
“Because tonight I’m not myself. I’m some single 39 year old in the 80s trying to get a date, apparently.”
“Well then, gag me with a spoon, that was gnarly. Try a different line. One that doesn’t begin with “dollface”?”
“Got it, thanks!”
You watched as Bradley sauntered away to go try his luck with a pretty blonde over by the jukebox. You smirked to yourself as you heard Bradley start singing along to Madonna, carrying the tune with an impressive baritone that you weren’t expecting. You knew he could sing, but singing Madonna was a whole new side to him. Turning your back for a moment, you began fixing a drink for yourself, mixing together the ingredients for a Shirley Temple. You looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man approach the bar counter, his hair slicked back, and a blonde mustache that made poor Bradley’s look unimpressive rested on his upper lip. The most stunning pair of bright green eyes looked at you, and a set of perfectly straight, whitened teeth fresh out of a Colgate commercial flashed a smile at you.
“Hi Darlin’, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”
“Sure thing,” You nodded, trying hard not to audibly gulp at the adonis of a man standing in front of you. 
“Are you new ‘round here?” he drawled, “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”
“Uh, within the last four months, yeah.” you nodded as you finished pulling a pint of draught for him, the frothy head of the beer perfectly resting in the glass. 
“Oh! That’ll explain it. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service, m’am.” He winked, and you felt yourself melt a little at the sight of this human embodiment of a Ken doll flirting with you. 
“You’re Jake?”
“Depends who’s askin’, Honey.” His accent was thick and heavy, something straight out of those reruns of The Andy Griffiths Show that your mom made you watch when you were a child.
“I’m Penny’s niece,” you nodded, giving him your name and laughing softly as your cheeks blushed, “I moved down here to help her out with things around here while I try to figure some life things out.”
“I see,” he smirked, sipping his beer, the foam brushing against his mustache as he set the glass down. “And does that list of things you’re figuring out include finding a strong, charming, handsome Southern boy?”
“It might, do you know any?” You quipped, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your own drink, pretending to feign disinterest in the handsome stranger before you.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“That so, hun? Who? Do I know him?”
“Not yet, but I think he sure would like to know you, Darlin’.”
You shook your head, your curls bouncing as you started to laugh, unable to control yourself. Jake was as bold as he was handsome, and you were suddenly realizing what Pete was referring to when he said that Jake was confident. He practically exuded a cocksure confidence from every pore in his body. And while that would normally repulse you and send you heading for the hills, with Jake, it felt different. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his magnetic charms and graces pulling you in, and your inhibitions wearing down. However, you also knew how to deal with men like this - he was in need of an ego check, and you were just the person for the job. 
“Is that right? Well, you tell your little Southern-fried wannabe cowboy of a friend that if he’s interested, he’s going to have to stick around the bar all night. I promised Aunt Penny I’d help her make sure this night went smoothly, and I don’t need a knockoff Dukes of Hazzard cast member distracting me.” 
“Wannabe cowboy?” Jake gasped in feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically as he slipped into an even thicker accent than earlier, “Now Darlin’, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re breakin’ my heart over here. One thing I ain’t is a wannabe cowboy. You know, I used to ride in rodeos as a kid? Was one of the best there was for under 15 year olds, ‘til I decided to join the Navy instead.”
“Oh, so you’re like, a real cowboy then,” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 
“S’pose you could say that. Only one real way to find out, ain’t there?”
“Take you to a farm and watch you wrangle cattle on horseback?” you retorted sarcastically.
“You’re funny, I like that.”
“I bet you do.” 
Jake leaned in across the bar, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, his bright green eyes fixated on your lips as you spoke. His long eyelashes fluttered at you as he eyed you up, practically undressing you with his imagination. You grinned as you gestured to the sign behind you, reading that if you disrespect a lady, you owe everyone a round. 
“Watch it, Lieutenant. If you’re not careful, I’ll go ring that bell and you’ll learn a very expensive lesson.”
“Oh, Darlin’, I can guarantee, I ain’t gonna learn anything from it. I’m just dumb enough to do it again. Can’t help myself around a pretty girl like yourself.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed at his relentless attempt. You knew the only reason he persisted was because you were teasing him, but at the same time, you didn’t mind the attention he was giving you. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as broad shouldered, but he was built like a linebacker, with a solid frame and the accent alone was enough to drive you crazy.
It was almost 11 when Jake stopped you again, this time, outside of the stockroom when you’d disappeared back there for more maraschino cherries and pineapple juice. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, causing his pastel-coloured polo shirt to bulge around his biceps. His lips curled up in that annoyingly perfect smile once again as he stood in your path.
“Hey, Honey, need a hand with that?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” you shrugged it off, shaking your head as you smirked at him, “You often follow girls into storage rooms?”
“Only the ones worth following.”
“Wow, Lieutenant, with a response like that, it’s a wonder you don’t have a trail of broken hearts following you around.”
“What is your issue, anyway? You got a thing against blondes? Pilots?”
“Please,” you smirked, shaking your head, “I went on a date with Rooster. He’s a pilot.”
“Is it ‘cause I’m from Texas?”
“No, it’s because you’re probably the most arrogant prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of coming across, actually. God, it’s like you think all you have to do is flash that stupid handsome smile and I’ll throw myself at you.”
Jake’s face fell slightly as he raised an eyebrow at you. You could tell he wasn’t used to having a girl put him in his place like this, but his crestfallen gaze was quickly replaced by that shit-eating grin he seemed to never go without sporting. 
“Honey, you’re real pretty when you get mean like that.”
“You’re impossible,” you sighed in exasperation.
“But you love it, don’t you?” 
Jake closed the gap between the two of you as he spoke, taking a couple steps closer to you. You bit your lip as you hesitated, thinking about the consequences that might follow if you acted on your desires. 
Fuck it. 
Your hands gripped the fabric of his polo shirt, pulling him down to your height as you crashed your lips into his passionately. You kissed a slow, hot trail up to his ear, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he put his hands on your hips to bring you in as close as possible, his body heat radiating on to you. 
“You gonna show me just how good you are, Cowboy?”
“Yes, m’am. I reckon I could show you a better time than any other man in here.”
Jake’s hand slipped down your curves, reaching around to cup your ass cheeks as he hoisted you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around your waist. You quickly discarded the cherries and juice that were in your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Jake’s lips worked their way along your neck, wet, fervent kisses that made your body squirm with pleasure, your arousal growing and burning in your stomach with each second. 
“Back door?” He murmured against your neck, his hands keeping a firm hold of your ass.
“Two steps behind me, to the left,” you panted, nodding your head as he sucked on your skin. 
It was unseasonably warm for May, the humidity hanging in the air as you left the air conditioned building. Jake pushed you up against the wall, using it as leverage as he quickly reached down to undo your shorts and wiggled them out of the way. He ran two of his thick fingers along the outside of your lace underwear, stroking the dampened fabric as he smirked to himself.
“Someone’s eager, aren’t ya, Darlin’?”
“Just shut up and fuck me, ok?”
“Now, that any way to ask for it?”
A wicked grin appeared on his face as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, stroking at your clit with a feather light touch, just enough to make you whine for more. 
“Jake, I swear to fuck, if you don’t take me right now.”
“Shhh, Sugar, don’t want anyone to hear, do ya? Unless you get off on getting caught,” He purred as he coaxed his fingertips inside of your dripping entrance, pumping them into you with precision.
You tossed your head backwards as Jake thrusted his fingers further into you, each movement harder and faster than before. The determined look in his eye alone was almost enough to send you over the edge. This man was hell-bent on making you orgasm, and he was on the right track to get you there within a matter of seconds.
“Fuck, s-so close, Jake,” you keened, your fingers gripping his thick blonde hair as he brought you to your climax.
“That’s it, Sugar. Look at you, you’re a mess and I ain’t even started on you yet.”
“J-Jake, please,” you whimpered, coming undone as he fucked his fingers into you at a breakneck pace.
“Speak up, sweetheart, can’t hear ya.”
Your head started to spin as he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he slammed his hips forwards, shoving his thick cock inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy at the sudden fullness. Trying to be quiet, you secretly thanked your lucky stars that the sounds of Your Love by The Outfield blared throughout the club. Just as the chorus picked up, Jake rocked his hips forwards again, fucking himself into you with enough force to make you feel as though he might blow your back out right then and there.
“That’s it, Sugar, takin’ me so well,” Jake smirked, “What was that you said about bein’ a wannabe cowboy? Bet those other boys can’t fuck you like this, now can they?”
You were practically rendered speechless by Jake’s precise, rhythmic thrusts into your cunt, his masculine grunting and teasing proving enough to throw you back over the edge once again. Your legs began to shake and shudder while he bucked his hips up into you, his eyes full of lust and hunger as he brought you to your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a low, pornographic moan out of Jake. 
Raking your fingers through his hair, tugging on it as you threw your head back, you screamed out his name, louder than you intended. You lost your ability to hold yourself together as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm following close behind yours. 
“Fuck, am I good?” He groaned, his eyes pleading for permission.
“On the pill, you’re good,” you panted, nodding quickly as Jake let himself go inside of you, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he repeated it over and over, praising you.
“Now, how ‘bout letting a strong, handsome Southern boy take you out on a date so he don’t feel so bad about fucking you until you can’t walk a couple hours after meetin’ ya?” He grinned as he readjusted himself and pulled his clothes back up. 
“I think I can fit you into my schedule, on one condition.”
“Mhmm? What’s that?”
“Next time, you come wearing a cowboy hat.”
“Deal, Sugar, I’ll even let you wear it.” 
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simpforrooster · 4 months
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actually, it’s captain.
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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.
t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.
Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.
Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”
You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.
“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.
“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.
And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.
“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.
Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.
But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.
You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.
Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”
Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.
“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.
“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.
“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”
At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.
“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.
Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.
Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.
Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”
“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.
You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.
“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.
“Yeah?” he murmurs back.
Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.
“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.
Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.
Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.
“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.
“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.
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bradshawsweetheart · 5 months
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Good Vibrations | Jake Seresin x Reader |
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SUMMARY: Making a bet with Jake Seresin never involved low stakes. This time, after losing to your boyfriend, his "winnings" included you testing out a new sex toy he picked up — not only in public, but in a last minute decision of in the presence of both strangers and your friends. Surely you could be discreet. This would be a cakewalk... Right? WORD COUNT: ~3.08K WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. Swearing, alcohol mention (no one is drunk but worth mentioning), smut, softdom Jake, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dumbification (affectionate), Jake being a smug bastard. A/N: I wrote this for this request I received a while back! I hope you enjoy!
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“A bet is a bet, darlin’. I don’t make the rules.” Jake smirked. You tried your best to convince him to save his little game for another time, but he wasn’t budging. At all.
“Yeah, a bet we made before agreeing to go to the bowling alley with Bob and Phoenix. And actually, yes, you did make the rules.” You whined as you gripped his hand tighter, forcing a smile on your face as the two of you approached the small table that the pilot and WSO were waiting at.
After a few rounds passed, Bob and Natasha were absolutely destroying you in duos. 
“I thought you were good at this game, Bagman?” Natasha quipped tauntingly after Bob rolled yet another perfect strike. He now had a turkey when neither of you had gotten anything better than a spare during the entire game. You were getting absolutely creamed; it was embarrassing. Yet somehow, contrary to any kind of normalcy, neither of you seemed to care. “You talk a lot of game for someone who’s losing by an embarrassing amount already.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky my mind is elsewhere tonight or else you’d both be going home cryin’ to mama.” Jake chuckled before he dug a couple of shiny quarters from his pocket and bounced over to the jukebox. How he managed to be so cocky while actively losing was beyond you – any other time, he would be sore about it for two weeks minimum. Natasha raised a brow at you, amused, and you returned a playful eyeroll.
“I’ve never known you to focus on anything other than winning, so I’m calling bullshit.” Bob scoffed before offering a lopsided smile to meet your sheepish gaze. 
You watched Jake curiously as he seemed to be intently searching for a specific song, and not long after, The Beach Boys’s Good Vibrations started to bump throughout the half-empty, neon-lit bowling alley. Your face fell when he swaggered back to the table with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You thought that maybe he had forgotten about your arrangement until you felt the cool metal of the tiny remote being lightly dragged up your bare thigh under the table when he sat back down. You shuddered before sending him a warning glare. Natasha expertly sent her ball down the lane, and as soon as it collided with the pins, a powerful vibration from inside your underwear sent electricity through your core. You lurched forward and a guttural groan flew from your mouth before you could stop it. Bob whipped his head around to face you, concern evident on his face.
I’m pickin’ up good vibrations
She’s giving me excitations
“Are you alright?” Bob asked, reaching a comforting hand toward you. 
Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you, along with your stool, closer to his side. His touch was the only one you would know when you were turned on, and he was not about to let another man put his hands on you while you were already teetering on the edge of euphoria. You began to scramble for a response as Jake upped the strength of the vibrations by one level.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Just – just bummed for you that it wasn’t a strike. Phoenix, your form was per… perfect.” You stammered; your knuckles turned white as you tightened your grip on the edge of your chair. Jake shoved a fistful of nachos in his mouth to hide his smirk, which earned a suspicious look from Bob.
“Ugh, I know. I got the next one, though.” Natasha chirped at your compliment with a confident wink before turning on her heel to retrieve the ball to roll for a spare. 
Jake brought his hand to rest on your bare thigh and began rubbing circles on your skin with his calloused thumb. The combination of the vibrations and just this simple contact from his hand was giving you goosebumps. You adjusted your position on the uncomfortably hard plastic of your chair.
“You okay, sugar?” Jake asked innocently. You shot daggers at him. The corner of his lips quirked upward.
When I look in her eyes
She goes with me to a blossom world
“Just peachy.” You replied curtly, exhaling slowly through your nose. 
His pinky slowly trailed further up your thigh until it was brushing along the edge of your skirt, his middle and ring fingers teasingly pushing up and down between the plush of your thighs. You pressed your legs tighter together to halt his cruel teasing as he smugly watched your eyebrows furrow. You tried to keep your breathing even as you watched Bob and Natasha, who were thankfully too lost in their climb to victory to notice what a menace Jake was being.
I don’t know where but she sends me there
(Oh, my-my, what a sensation)
“You’re up,” Bob nodded to Jake. Jake was quick to pull away from you as he popped up and strode over to take position. He kept one hand in his pocket as he eyed the lane and readjusted his aim a couple of times. “One-handed in a way that you couldn’t care less. What, d’you give up already?” Bob teased. Despite him being on the opposite team, you loved when Bob would start to smack-talk after a few beers. He really came out of his shell whenever it was time for a little friendly competition.
“This is how a real pro operates, kiddo. Take notes.” Jake responded without breaking his focused gaze on the pins.
“Yeah, let’s see how far that gets you.” 
And with that, Jake took his shot and rolled a perfect strike; and in doing so, he upped the vibration strength in his pocket the moment the ball collided with the pins yet again. A higher pitched moan left you and you did your absolute best to disguise it as a celebratory cheer. You were relieved when it seemed to pay off. Bob’s jaw was slack as he marveled at Jake’s shot.
“That’s how the adults play, Baby On Board,” Jake chided as he made his way back to his seat next to you. Bob rolled his shoulders back with a grimace as he muttered to himself. 
Gotta keep those lovin' good vibrations a-happenin' with her
“You’re up, chickadee.” He grinned at you, subtly adjusting his jeans to conceal his growing erection as he watched your face. Your eyelids were struggling to remain open as the sensations took hold over you. The mischievous glint in his eye was as prominent as it ever could be. You narrowed your eyes at him as you stood, a little unsteady on your feet as the vibrations against your increasingly dripping core remained constant. You pick up your ball from the rack and move to take position. Your senses were overwhelmed as the consequence of Jake’s winnings kept at your clit; everything was suddenly too loud, the entire joint smelled overwhelmingly like beer and fried food, and now you were squinting against the pink and blue of the neon that was reflecting off the recently waxed wood. You took a deep breath and aimed your ball before sending it flying down the lane. You thought that now that you were front and center, with everyone’s eyes on you, you would be safe from Jake’s antics. You thought wrong.
(Ahhhhh!)
Your ball sped toward the pins and collided, successfully knocking them all down and earning yourself a perfect strike – your first of the night. 
Good, good, good, good vibrations
The biggest grin found its place on your face and just as you jumped up to celebrate, you fell to your knees with a high pitched whine as Jake upped the intensity by several levels. Bob flew out of his chair to kneel beside you, placing his hand on your arm as you trembled, your head bowed to the floor. Jake’s skin burned as he watched Bob’s hand on your skin, but he let it slide. This was his doing, after all. Jake stood from his chair and was behind you immediately as he turned the toy off with the remote in his pocket. You bit your lip to conceal your pathetic whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Natasha questioned in a rush as she dropped her knees to the floor beside you.
Good, good, good, good vibrations
“I’m okay,” you reassured them, exhaling slowly and keeping your voice steady. You couldn’t do this much longer. The desperation for relief was overwhelming you. “It’s just really hot in here. I think I just need to splash some water on my face.” Natasha glanced down at her jacket – she was freezing, even with the alcohol in her system – but she nodded nonetheless.
“Do you want me to go with you?” She offered, standing slowly and steadying you against her elbow as she pulled you up with her. She searched your face with genuine concern. It kind of made you want to elbow Jake in the ribs for making your friends think there was something seriously wrong with your health at the moment. You flicked your eyes back over your shoulder to meet Jake’s — you could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face at this point. His lips quirked as he watched you, bringing a firm hand to rest at the small of your back and teasingly rubbing underneath your shirt with his thumb. Your breath hitched. You shook your head rapidly at Natasha’s offer and waved her off, offering an appreciative smile. Jake’s features were only half-apologetic as he pulled you against him and leaned down to give a chaste kiss to your forehead. You playfully sighed in annoyance at him. You agreed to his terms when you made the bet. You just didn’t think he would be so remorseless in his use of the new toy in public. 
Bob shifted anxiously on his feet as he observed you, subtly bopping his head to You Dropped A Bomb On Me by The Gap Band that was now playing on the jukebox. You bopped your head in time with him with a small smile and watched him visibly relax.
“It’s just hot in here. I’ll be much better when I come back.” You reassured them again as the trio watched cautiously. Jake’s eyebrow quirked as you passed him. He knew what your plan entailed and he wasn’t too thrilled about it.
You hurried to the bathroom, quickly locking yourself into one of the stalls and leaned back against the cool metal of the door. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet as you dipped your hand into your underwear, desperate for relief and suppressing a moan when your fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit. You didn’t even bother to check if the bathroom was empty – frankly, you were too on edge to care. After a few minutes, Jake excused himself to go check on you. He looked both ways before practically flinging himself into the women’s restroom and closing the door behind him hastily.
“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Jake drawled after making sure it was just the two of you in the room. You whimpered at him quietly. He took a moment — finally alone — to adjust his pants more openly and palm over his hardening cock. He took notice of your feet under the stall door and imagined the way you were positioned. He pictured your brows knit, bottom lip between your teeth as you ran your fingers through your folds and desperately grinding down onto your hand for relief. He was painfully hard just at the thought of it. Jake locked the bathroom door behind him — whoever might have needed to come in here could wait. 
At the click of the lock, you were out of the stall and on him in a flash, desperately pulling him against you and attaching your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss as your lips moved feverishly together. He secured one hand against the back of your neck and his other on your hip as he walked you backward until your ass was hitting the counter. You sighed into his mouth, running your hands down the front of his torso and pushing your hands under his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch and you wanted nothing more than for it to be against yours. You gently raked your nails down his abdomen and pulled his hips closer to yours by his belt loops. He hummed. “You’re breaking the rules.”
“Don’t care,” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, whimpering when he lifted you enough to position you on the very edge of the sink. “Need you.”
“Need me, huh?” Jake teased, leaving your swollen, kiss-bitten lips and attaching his own to that sweet spot under your ear. He pushed your legs further apart with his knee before slotting his thigh between yours. “You wanna be a good girl and hike up your skirt for me?”
You whined pathetically at his words as you pulled at your skirt and ground your heat onto his thick, denim-clad thigh. He continued to leave a trail of hot, opened-mouth kisses down your neck and chest before yanking your top down to attach his lips to your already-peaked nipple. He took his hand from the back of your neck to knead at your other breast, pinching your nipple between his index and middle fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath and threw your head back with a moan, grinding down onto him a bit harder. He grinned against your skin as he quickly flicked over your nipple with his tongue before switching to the other.
“I got you, pretty girl,” Jake cooed, snaking the hand that was firmly secured against your hip to the apex of your thighs. He moaned lowly at the feeling of your wetness-soaked underwear, slowly rubbing small circles over the fabric. It wasn’t enough. You whimpered, grinding into his hand and digging your nails into his biceps. “So wet for me. You been thinking about me touching you all night with that vibrator against your cunt?” You could do nothing but nod weakly, your head resting back against the bathroom mirror. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Yes sir,” You mewled. 
“Good girl,” Jake grunted, flicking your nipple with his tongue once more before releasing it with a pop! He dropped to his knees and pulled your panties to the side, wasting no time in spreading you with his fingers and licking a thick stripe upward before plunging his tongue into your weeping hole. “Weren’t exactly trying to hide how good I was making you feel, were you, baby?”
“Oh, my fucking –” You jolted. Jake attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking as he brought his middle finger to push into you slowly, gliding in and out of you with ease. Your fingers wound into his blond tresses and you eagerly tugged at his scalp, earning a pleased, guttural groan from somewhere deep in Jake’s sternum. You were already so close after being practically edged all night long.
He pulled your thighs over his shoulders before pushing his ring finger into you now, curling his digits upward against that spongy spot in your walls and pumping them into you at a steady pace. You let out a long, high pitched whine as he hit the perfect spot over and over and over and over. He moaned and relished in the feeling of your heat clenching snugly around his digits. Your brain turned into mush – you heard his voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I – I’m – Jake, I can’t –”
“You sound so pretty when you moan for me, baby,” He smirked against your skin as he watched your fucked-out expression. Your eyes screwed shut with your eyebrows sloped and your mouth agape – it always drove him crazy. “What, can’t take any more? Forgot how to use your words now?” You could do nothing but cry out and nod rapidly against the mirror. “My poor baby. Taking my mouth and fingers like such a good girl.” He hummed against your clit and you choked out a sob, tears streaking your cheeks now and desperately grasping his hair. You were so, so close, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to push you over like he always does… Then, suddenly, he withdrew from you completely. Your eyes flew open, wild, and searched his smug face while he lazily kissed your inner thighs.
“What are you –”
“You broke the rules.” He stated simply, pulling your skirt back down over your thighs and smoothing it over with his calloused fingertips.
“What?” You exhaled incredulously, blinking at him, chest heaving. He rose to his feet and kissed your collarbones as he readjusted your shirt over your breasts before wiping his chin.
“You broke the rules,” Jake repeated. His eyes were dark with want yet held an incredibly amused glint. “No touching yourself.” Your jaw fell slack as you searched his features for the hint of a joke – there was none.
“Jake –” You began to protest – to plead.
“Come on, baby,” He grinned, pulling you down from the counter and spinning your hips to stand in front of him to face the mirror. You could still do nothing but blink dumbly at his reflection. He brought his hot lips down to where neck meets shoulder as he ground his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, reaching for him behind you. He stepped out of reach and grabbed your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. He adjusted himself by tucking his solid length into the waistband of his jeans. “We have a game to get back to.”
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“You’re finished when we get back to your place.” You hissed at Jake lowly through gritted teeth as he unlocked the door and pulled you back into the bowling alley with him. He ignored the glances you two were getting from a few lingering patrons as he strode back toward Bob and Natasha. The music was loud, but maybe not loud enough to conceal what was happening behind the locked door from anyone within ten feet of it.
“Not if I finish you first,” He challenged with a grin. He fished the remote from his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “If you can even make it that long.”
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seresinhangmanjake · 7 months
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Can't Let You Go
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader
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Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.
Notes/Warnings: it's a fluffy ending (despite how the summary makes it sound). maybe a bit angsty . There might be cursing. Jake smokes a cigarette. Bradley and Nat are together for this, but there's not much focus on it (sorry to those who find that unappealing).
Words: 1800
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What’s the worst that could happen?
That one question was how your bride-to-be best friend got you to squeeze yourself into a wedding dress. You’d protested, heavily, but the last thing you wanted was to snuff out her excitement. So you appeased her with a nod and a false smile and shuffled into a dressing room to do as she'd begged.
What compelled you to select a gown you actually liked was beyond you. You hadn’t wanted to try one on, too afraid of the emotional toll that had the possibility of rearing its ugly head, and yet you didn’t just grab the closest dress off of the nearest rack. You roamed the store until you discovered the one that made your heart skip a beat. A dress that caused your breath to catch as you imagined yourself walking down an aisle, to him. 
As you looked yourself up and down, you felt the tears sprouting for the dream that never came to fruition. You couldn’t tear your eyes away until Nat shouted, “You have to come out. That's kind of the whole point, Hon.” So you did, stepping up onto the low pedestal. 
Her eyes widened, her fingers moving to cover her lips. She stared for a long moment. “Oh my God,” she said with a sweet smile, “You look perfect.”
“Nat,” you sighed, “come on.”
“You do!”
“Thank you, but this is—” Silly, you were going to say. But the jingle of the boutique door's bell interrupted you. 
From her seat on the suede couch, Nat’s eyes shot over your shoulder. Her face paled. A muttered ‘Fuck’ met your ears in the voice of her fiance. 
With your brow pinched in confusion, you turned, the dress swishing at your feet with your sharp twist. 
Two pairs of eyes were glued to you. One set—a rich, dark brown—was alight with shock; the other—mossy green and all too familiar—was filled to the brink with pain. 
“Jake…” you tried, but he was out the door. 
You found your hand reaching out the slightest in the direction he'd gone. As if you could graze your fingers over the fabric of his shirt and tighten it within your palm to pull him back to you.
After absorbing the moment, you hurriedly stepped off the pedestal and rushed into the changing room to strip yourself of the dress.
“You didn’t tell me she was coming to your fitting,” you heard Bradley attempt to whisper. 
“Well, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Jake along to pick me up,” Nat countered. You could practically see the irritation on her face, her arms crossed in defense and foot tapping loudly against the tile. 
“He didn’t want to be alone. Today marks three months since they—”
Nat shushed him as you pulled back the curtain, reclothed in your jeans and t-shirt. “Hon,” she started, taking a step toward you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”
“I know. It’s ok,” you assured her before flicking your eyes to Bradley. “Which way did he go?”
“Right,” he didn’t hesitate to say, and you nodded. 
“Thank you.”
—--
The boutique stood alone on the street, nothing flanking it and thankfully making it evident with one quick glance that Jake, had he attempted to make a run for it, wouldn’t be able to get far. You didn’t see him, so there was only one other option. 
When you rounded the building, you found him leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted slightly upward, his eyes closed, as he blew out a breath of smoke. The cigarette trapped between his fingers wiggled from his shaking hand. 
Sensing your presence, like he’d always managed to do, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t get engaged three months after we broke up.”
You walked up to his side and copied his stance. “Of course not.” When he didn’t follow up with more, you continued. “I thought you quit.”
Jake finally opened his eyes to glance down at the cigarette. “I quit for you,” he said before taking another drag. 
You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. 
You’d always worried about him, long before you even got together. His job, his emotions, his habits. His job you couldn’t change, but his emotions and the habits that came with them, you could help. You’d been there for him, and he for you. Yet, it didn't occur to you that he would find himself revisiting past obstacles without you by his side. It should’ve. You should’ve pushed through any discomfort or awkwardness between you to be there for him. You should have been better.
“Jake…”
He released another stream of smoke, the quiet act somehow effectively cutting you off. “I’m not back on ‘em. Just one here or there…” he flicked his index finger to knock off the ashes, “to calm me down.”
Beats passed. How many, you couldn’t say. All you knew was that not so much silence had filled the bubble around the two of you since you were left spent and hurt after the blow up of ending your relationship. Though, in truth, you hadn’t been near each other enough in the past few months for the possibility of that situation to present itself. 
“I didn’t expect to see you,” he suddenly said, “and the dress kind of…threw me.”
“Nat made me.”
With a snort, he said, “Figures.”
More agonizing silence dragged painful memories to the surface. The tears, the shouts, the pleading and apologies from the day that continued to haunt you. 
“Jake.”
He hummed.
“I think we need to find a way to exist in the same space. It’s too difficult to try to work around one another when it comes to our friends and the places we frequent in town. I understand that you don’t want to be with me, but—”
“Me?” he snapped, head whipping in your direction. The blaze in his eyes seared the shock in yours, yet his tone maintained a calmness that, when accompanying his words, felt more eerie than anything. “I don’t want to be with you? You’re the one who ended us. You told me you were leaving, and then you didn’t even go.”
Your head fell and you began to pick at your fingernail. “Would you have preferred I left?”
“I would’ve preferred if you stayed my girlfriend.”
Looking up, you asked, “What changed your mind?”
A flash zipped across the green of his irises. “What are you talking about?”
“A week after we broke up, I chose not to go,” you said. “I wanted to be with you more than I wanted that job. I went to your house to tell you, but you weren’t there, so I went to the bar.” A hard swallow at another memory failed to relieve the aching lump in your throat. “I found you kissing some woman and I realized you’d already moved on.”
Jake took careful breaths—one too many for your liking—before letting out a soft chuckle. It held no humor. He shook his head. 
"I didn't move on."
"Jake, I saw you."
"She kissed me," he said. "I told her it wasn't going to happen, then went home and drank myself stupid trying not to think of you." His eyes tore away from yours to stare ahead. And with a pinched brow, he shook his head once again as he tossed the remaining nub of the cigarette into a nearby trash can. "I did not succeed, I should add. So, no, I didn't move on. I can't even imagine trying." 
You were overwhelmed with an array of emotions, each of them warring, mixing chaotically. Waves of relief crashed into the shame lingering from the day you fought. They churned with the pain you'd yet to let go of after seeing someone else kissing the man you love. There was a tick of embarrassment from the, now very clear, misunderstanding between you. But it was the cautious joy that overpowered it all. 
"You still love me?" You said softly. 
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. 
"That's funny?"
"No, baby, I just—" he paused then brushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I never thought I'd have to answer a question like that."
Your lips parted, ready to ask why such a simple question from you was practically stumping him, but he was one step ahead.
"I was always trying to prove how much I love you. Every single day I made sure of it. And I'd hoped I showed it well enough that you'd never need to ask," he said. A light shrug of his shoulders—barely noticeable, yet far from nonchalant—followed. "But here we are."
Without a thought to stop yourself, you reached up to cup his cheek, drawing his eyes back to yours. 
"Jake, I didn't question it. I knew you loved me," you swore. "But I ruined things, and feelings can change."
As if understanding your immediate uncertainty that bloomed from your sudden touch, Jake wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could dare to withdraw it back to your side. 
"Not mine," he said. Then quieter: "Never mine."
The fresh rawness of his stare, of his tense brow, and softly parted lips, broke your heart. He looked ready to fall to his knees and weep at your feet. He looked how you had felt for months. Like standing, breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, was not easily done. Since you’d left him, nothing had been natural. Nothing came easy. Living life was a chore. And seeing Jake release it all in front of you with his desperation and devastation clear as day, allowed you to do the same. 
Your palm fell to his chest. Jake brushed an escaped tear from the corner of your mouth, then rested his forehead against yours. 
"It's ok," he whispered. "It's gonna be ok."
"I still love you," you said between sniffles.
With a heavy exhale, his whole body eased out of its rigidity. "I love you, too."
"Would…” you started but paused, unsure if your question would be your final strike. But you couldn’t stop the pounding in your heart, nor deny the need you had for Jake. So, despite the shake in your voice, you pressed on. “Would you take me back?"
Your eyes were closed, but you could sense his smile. Then he said: 
"Baby, I never let you go."
---
A/N: it's been a minute since I posted any writing here. Sorry about that. But I'm working my way along my list and hopefully, you guys liked this :)
Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi
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ficsilike-reblogged · 6 months
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Invisible Smoke - Five
Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And everything comes to an end. Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 26.5k (from the bottom of my heart…my bad) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is the final chapter! Thank you for all the love on this little story of mine, I truly appreciate it. Warnings: Naval and medical inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, hospitals, blood, unprotected sex, female-receiving oral, my love of happy endings, pregnancy and children, and overuse of italics.
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Jake hated hospitals.
He hated the scent of bleach and the crinkle of the overwashed sheets on the tiny beds. He hated how everything was said in gentle murmurs while machines beeped and hummed in every nook and corner. But he would sit in this stupid, uncomfortable plastic chair for a week straight if it meant that he would be told how you were doing.
Everything since your house had been a blur of blood and flashing lights. He nearly fought the paramedic that shoved him out of the way to get to you, adrenaline keeping him focused on you. There had been blood everywhere. He still had some dried beneath his fingernails. The cops that had shown up had, for a moment, believed Jake had been the one to hurt you until your neighbor had yelled about a man running through his yard, covered in blood.
But they lost him.
The cops lost Luke somewhere in the next neighborhood over and you were taken away in the back of an ambulance before Jake could even get the chance to climb in beside you. They then spent another hour and a half getting Jake’s statement and taking pictures of his bloody clothes before telling him not to leave town. It was a fucking mess. Three more cops, who looked like they were more interested in getting a blonde nurse’s number than protecting you, were stationed around the hallway of the emergency room waiting area.
It had been hours since they had rushed you into surgery. No one would tell him anything about you because he wasn’t listed as your emergency contact. The nurse behind the desk did seem to take a modicum of pity on Jake–with a grim look on her face that had Jake’s stomach sinking–and told him to be patient and that the emergency contact had been left a voicemail and she hoped that they would be arriving soon.
What kind of emergency contact doesn’t pick up the phone?
Jake scrubbed a hand over his eyes, stinging and tired. But he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave. Not until he knew you were okay. The one thing he did to help pass the time was telling the group chat which hospital you’d been taken to—but he kept his phone on silent when almost everyone asked what had happened. They’d probably be able to connect the dots if they were on the way to your house. There was blood smeared out onto the front stoop and into the driveway. It would paint quite a picture. The only person he actually replied to was Rooster, who had texted him outside the group.
It was him, wasn’t it?
All Jake could think to type in return was, Of course it fucking was.
He jumped when someone fell into the seat beside him and it took a stretched moment for Jake to realize that it was Maverick. He hadn’t even seen the other man walk in.
“How’re you holding up?” He asked.
“I, uh, I guess I’m fine.” That was a blatant lie but neither man commented on it. “Why are you here?”
“Rooster is calling her brother and sister, and the Kazanskys, keeping them updated. He’ll be here soon but he wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Cotton was stuffed between Jake’s ears as he stared at the older pilot, mind buzzing. “Rooster is her emergency contact, isn’t he?”
Mav nodded but had his eyes trained on the cop currently flirting with the nurse at the desk.
“What does he know? Does he-”
“He was only told that she was in surgery. As soon as he’s done with her family, he’s coming here, too.” Maverick’s voice was calm and even, the tone Jake knew he used when talking to his students.
Jake wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or comforted. So he settled on neither. “He doesn’t know anything? Seriously?”
“They couldn’t give him an update every minute. They’re concentrating on keeping her alive.”
Jake smashed his tongue between his teeth so he didn’t say something that would get him brought up in front of Cyclone or Warlock. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.
The doors to the waiting room opened again and Rooster jogged in, eyes wide as they swept the lobby before they landed on the two pilots. He was then yanking Jake up and out of his seat and wrapped him in a tight hug that smelt of more bleach and sweat. And Jake froze for a moment and his arms hung limply at his sides before returning the embrace. “She’s gotta be okay, right?” His voice was strained like he was trying to speak while pulling Gs.
Jake only nodded. You had to be okay. Selfishly, he didn’t want to just have a taste of what it was like to have you only for you to be ripped away from him, bleeding out under his hands. He had felt your heartbeat slow and your body go slack. He had seen your eyes roll back, unseeing. The last thing he’d heard from the paramedics when they were shoving you into the back of the ambulance was, “she’s crashing! She’s crashing!”
But Jake still had to hope. He didn’t know what else he could do.
Rooster stepped back after a moment before Maverick suggested checking in at the nurse station to see if he could get an update. He was quick to do so and Jake watched the nurse turn to her computer, heart in his throat. Her eyes darted to Jake for a moment before she whispered something to Rooster. The other man’s hand clenched into a fist on top of the desk before relaxing again as he nodded and turned away.
Before Jake could even open his mouth, Rooster said, “they don’t know how long she’s going to be in surgery. But they’ll tell us as soon as she’s out.”
“That’s it?” Jake bit out. “That’s all they could tell you?”
“Seresin-”
Jake stepped away for a moment, shoving a hand through his hair. Screaming in the middle of the waiting room wouldn’t help. You would still be on a table in a room he couldn’t get in and he’d probably get thrown out of the hospital. That wouldn’t help you.
He just wanted to see you again. Wanted to know you were going to be okay.
“Listen,” Rooster started, “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to call Georgie and Danny and Georgie was afraid she’d gone into early labor as I was telling her. Then I had to call Sarah just as Bob and Phoenix showed up to clean up Punch’s house. We didn’t want her to come back to a mess after all this is settled.”
If she gets out was left unsaid. Truthfully, Jake wasn’t even sure you would want to go back to your house after all of that. Hedidn’t want you to go back, but that was a different argument.
Maverick stood, slapping his hands on his thighs as he did. “I’m grabbing coffee. I’ll bring you back a cup.” He didn’t let either of the other men argue before he was setting off down the hall where he’d surely come back with three cups of brown sludge.
Rooster sank back into a plastic chair and Jake slowly followed his lead.
The cops hadn’t even turned their heads when Jake had yelled. There was no way he was leaving until he knew you were safe. “Is Georgie okay?” Jake finally asked after a stretched silence.
The barest hint of a smile pushed at Bradshaw’s mouth before quickly fading. “Yeah. She’s okay. Baby is, too, and has a few more weeks before her due date. I had to convince her not to get on a plane and come down here.” He sighed. “Danny said he’d come down only if Punch asked him herself. He knows how she gets about people wanting to take care of her.”
Jake almost laughed. Yeah, he knew that, too.
“But I think he called the chief of police here and is threatening legal action for their shoddy work already.”
“Her entire family operates on a different frequency, huh?”
Bradshaw’s eyes cut to him for a moment. “I think they’re gonna like you.”
That made Jake smile. Just for a split second. Just until he remembered that you still had to pull through in order for him to meet them. He didn’t want to meet them at your funeral. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” It was soft. Softer than anything he’d ever heard come from Rooster’s mouth. It twisted behind Jake’s ribs. “You just gotta, you know, actually get your head out of your ass and ask her to dinner or something.”
Jake huffed, another trace of a smile on his face. He could refute that claim, tell him that you had promised to go get steak and that Jake saw a future with you that he would tear the world apart to see. But he didn’t. That was your secret for now. “What did you tell everyone?”
The man sighed. “The truth: Punch was nearly killed by a crazy ex-boyfriend with a vendetta.”
It was an oversimplified version of the truth, but it was a kindness, Jake supposed, to keep the gory details unspoken. You would tell the Daggers if you wanted. A small bit of shame bit at the back of his mind when he realized how intent he had been about learning your secrets. Did you resent him for it? He hoped not, but he would closely guard your secrets anyway. If he was given the chance, he’d keep all your secrets.
Rooster shook his head, letting his head fall against the wall with a dull thunk. “Georgie knows most of what happened with Luke but apparently Punch made her promise not to tell Danny that the money she gave their parents to pay off his medical bills came from Luke’s father paying her to keep her mouth shut.”
Jake screwed his eyes shut with that revelation. You were always taking care of someone else.
Maverick came back with three cups of coffee that did actually taste like tar but Jake choked it down anyway. Just as he threw his cup into the trash can, a door down the hallway opened. A woman in dark scrubs stepped out. Jake watched her step to the nurse’s station and say something before the nurse pointed at their small group.
All of them stood as she approached and Jake’s blood roared in his ears as she asked which one of them was Bradshaw. He stepped forward and Jake felt a small glimmer of hope start to spark in his chest when she smiled. “She’s a fighter. She coded twice but she came right back each time. Her lung did collapse but the second stab wound missed anything vital. If she makes it through the night, I would consider it an ‘all clear.’ She’s going to need to take it easy for a few weeks after she gets discharged here, but I am almost certain that she’ll make a full recovery.”
The rock that had settled over Jake’s heart disappeared.
You were going to be okay.
You were going to be okay.
He was going to take you to get steak. He was going to take you on that promised date. He was going to make you smile again, make you laugh. You were going to be okay.
“Can we go see her?” Maverick asked.
The doctor nodded. “She’s sedated and we’ve moved her to a private room, but I’m a firm believer in surrounding yourself with people who love you helps with the healing process. Visiting hours are over, so you’ll need to keep it down but I’ll bring you to her.”
The square hospital hallways seemed to stretch on forever and the elevator actually did stall between floors but soon Jake was pushing into your room, ignoring the pair of uniformed cops on either side of your door. There were machines everywhere and an IV drip, too.
He must have paused in the doorway because Rooster clapped him on the shoulder before scooting by him to stand at your side.
“She’d want you to be here.”
Jake looked to see Maverick standing at his side, more than a little uneasy with the glint in the older man’s eye.
“I’m not blind, Seresin. If I hadn’t known before, the way you acted tonight made it glaringly obvious.”
Shit. This could be bad. Maverick could report the ‘relationship’ to the brass and you both could be reprimanded if not worse. “Mav-”
“But I can turn a blind eye when necessary. She means a lot to you, to Rooster. The entire squadron is either cleaning up her house or waiting for word on how she’s doing. This thing, whatever it is, makes you both happy. I’m not going to stand in the way of it.”
The smallest bit of tension slid off Jake’s shoulders with that. Maverick was known for breaking the rules when he thought he was doing the right thing. If he was grouping Jake and Punch into that, he wouldn’t fight him on it. So, he offered the other man a nod, thinking it was better to keep his mouth shut anyway.
“I’ve been told she’ll have a guard at her door for the entirety of her stay here. I’ll have an orderly take down the names of anyone you’re allowing to visit.”
Rooster nodded and Jake imagined he was probably making a list of all the Daggers’ names, the Kazanskys, and a few of the other ADs to have written down.
You looked so fragile. So breakable. Of course, Jake was well aware how finite life could be. He was a fighter pilot–he knew the chances of dying could always be slim to none when it came to real dogfights or combat. But there was something different about you. You weren’t supposed to be in this hospital bed and he wasn’t supposed to be waiting for you to wake up. Not like this, anyway. He had once thought about how it would be to wake up beside you in his bed, with blankets and sheets that smelled like you and your perfume. Not of bleach and metal. You were supposed to be full of life and giving him shit, all with a smile. Not this. Not confined to a hospital bed and unconscious.
Slowly, he followed Maverick into the too-small room and took the chair on your bed’s left side while Rooster and Mav were on your right. The chair at least had a bit of padding and his spine didn’t feel like it was trying to rip itself out of alignment. But he saw how still you were. Your chest was barely rising and falling with each breath. He couldn’t hear your breaths over the beeping machines. There were thick bandages covering both of your palms, held together with sticky medical tape. A fresh wave of anger stormed at the back of Jake’s mind for a moment. He hadn’t even realized your hands had been hurt when he had rushed into your home. There had been too much blood all over you; he had only seen the two stab wounds, pumping blood out of holes in your ruined shirt. What else had Luke done to you? It was a small solace to see that most of the blood had been washed away. There were still splotches of dried blood around your fingers and beneath your chin, staining around the crux of your elbow in a ring, just clean enough for all the machines to patch in, and even more beneath your nails. Just like Jake. You had fought so hard.
“I wanted to get steak with you.”
The simple sentence you had labored to say had echoed in the back of Jake’s mind since the paramedics had ripped you away from him. Had you been scared? Were you trying to say goodbye with those words but wanting to soften the blow?
He wanted to reach out and just feel the warmth of your hand in his again, just to give himself some peace that you really were alive. That you made it out. But the furthest he reached was right beside your unmoving hand. Just out of reach. What if he hurt you? What if he was the reason everything went wrong now? He couldn’t do that to you.
“I’ve called Cyclone,” Maverick said, breaking the tense unquiet. “He has notified the MPs and said we could formally request Naval security and he would personally make sure it gets approved.”
Jake looked to Rooster to see him already looking at him. “I’d prefer that.” The cops haven’t exactly proven themselves to be reliable; the fact that Luke had managed to evade the cops while covered in your blood didn’t exactly give them any credibility in their ability to keep you safe. Jake needed you safe. Knowing someone like Cyclone was willing to throw his weight around to make sure you were as safe as possible was a calming thought, as calm as anything could be in this situation.
“Me too,” Rooster agreed.
The three men were quiet as another doctor came in a few minutes later to look you over and read your chart. His eyes did seem to flit from Bradshaw and Mav to Jake and he wasn’t subtle when he checked the time on his watch. But there was no way they were leaving. He did seem to get the hint–or the cops outside may have helped–because he didn’t say anything about them being in there well past visiting hours and said that you may wake up in a few hours. He then left the room without a look back. It wasn’t a great deal of information, but maybe they’d get more out of the day shift.
After Rooster yawned for the third time, Maverick suggested they all go home for the last few hours before dawn. “I don’t think we’ll be much help here anyway.”
“I’m gonna stay with her,” Jake said immediately. He wasn’t going to leave you now. What if you woke up and you were all alone? Someone needed to be with you until you woke up. And Jake wanted it to be him. It needed to be him.
Rooster nodded, as if expecting that, as he stood and wiped at his tired eyes. “I’ll bring you food when I swing by tomorrow.”
It was a simple enough sentence. But Jake knew what it was. Approval. They trusted him to take care of you. Sure, they trusted him in the skies and enough to help in the infrequent bar fight at the Hard Deck. But this was different. This was you.
Rooster squeezed his shoulder on the way out the door and Maverick nodded at him in goodbye before saying, “you have my number if you need anything. You call, I’ll answer.”
Jake wordlessly nodded and told them to get home safe before turning back to you. You hadn’t moved. God, he wished you would have, selfishly. He just needed to know you were going to be okay. Again, he wanted to reach out and just touch you. His hand inched across the bed and fell short again. His one comfort was feeling the warmth of you start to soak through the bedding and into the starchy sheet beneath Jake’s palm.
But he still couldn’t touch you. Not yet.
Hours ticked by and Jake tried to not yell when he heard the repeated squawks from the cops’ radios outside your door, continuously saying that they hadn’t found Luke. It was like he had vanished. Then, when he tried to watch the tiny television screwed into the wall on the other side of the room, it was tuned into a local news station that was, of course, broadcasting their story about a “violent domestic disturbance” with your house in the background lit up in blue and red lights. “Police say that the suspect is still at large.” He quickly turned the television back off with a grimace and a matching curse. There was no way to make the chair more comfortable and Jake settled for leaning forward to settle his arms across the bed near your legs and drop his head onto his hands. This could work, right? And he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but a few minutes later, he was snoring.
Jake woke to the sound of poorly hidden whispers scratching at his ears and a crick in his neck. His eyes slowly opened, squinting against the brightness of the room to see Bob and Phoenix bickering not-so-quietly near the door. Both had large bouquets of flowers in their arms, along with a small bag from a diner down the street, and were dressed in their khaki uniforms; they must have stopped by before heading to base. A quick glance at his watch let Jake know that it was still fairly early, probably not even close to proper visiting hours.
“You owe me ten bucks,” Phoenix said. “I knew he wouldn’t leave her.”
“I refuse to acknowledge a bet right now.” But Bob still pulled out his wallet and handed over a crisp bill to his pilot. “Ridiculous.”
“I am clinging to the fact that she’s alive enough for him to fall asleep at her bedside, all right? I need a little joy.”
“And ten dollars, apparently.”
“I’m awake, you know,” Jake groused as he sat straight. Both his neck and back popped noisily and Bob grimaced at the noise but Jake hardly cared as he turned to look at you, hoping that your beautiful eyes would be open and you could smile at him again.
But you were still unmoved on the flat pillow. Nothing had changed.
As if on autopilot, Jake reached out to grab your hand but stopped short, curling his fingers into his palm before his hand fell back into his lap.
“I’m surprised you slept at all,” Bob said as he took the flowers from Phoenix and filled a vase–that he apparently brought with him–with water and dropped both bouquets into it before setting it near the window.
“It was an accident,” Jake said, turning his head left, then right, eliciting another pair of pops. He probably should get up and splash some water on his face at least. Maybe he could ask Rooster or Javy to swing by his house and grab him a change of clothes. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw a text from Maverick telling him that he had been cleared to take the day off. He hadn’t even thought about that. All of his thoughts had been consumed by you. Phoenix handed him the diner bag and said it was from Rooster but he caught the knowing look in her eye. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered right now. He didn’t care about hiding how he felt about you now. To be fair, she had probably suspected something at brunch.
Bob hummed and took the chair Rooster had used last night before scooting closer to the side of the bed. He carefully took one of your hands in his, mindful of your bandaging and the wires and tubes connecting you to the machines, and kissed your fingers. “Hi, Punch,” he whispered.
Jake looked away, feeling a bit like he was intruding. He knew how much this must be hurting Bob, too. To know that the man that he had saved you from once, had tried to kill you again.
Bob had no problem touching you. So, why couldn’t Jake? He just needed to reach out and touch you. Just slip his fingers beneath yours and give himself that small bit of peace. He continued to war with himself when Phoenix leaned over just enough to kiss your forehead. “I have so much to tell you and I have so many questions, but you have to get better first, all right?” She whispered. “First you need to get better.”
Jake stood and gave them a moment, moving into the small ensuite to freshen up as much as he could and scrubbed a bit more blood from under his nails. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he nearly grimaced. His hair was a mess. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his shirt–not the one that was covered in your blood, that one had been handed over to the cops–grabbed from his gym bag in the backseat of his truck, was rumpled and smelt of hospital. He texted Javy and asked for him to bring a change of clothes and his toiletries go-bag if he had the chance after work. It felt like his entire universe had shifted on its axis ever since Phoenix’s text had come through. How many different ways could he tell himself that he nearly lost you? Still, he pushed out of the bathroom to see Phoenix flipping through the charts usually clipped to the end of your bed, and Bob slowly pulling away from you as he stood.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be going through those, Phoenix.”
But she waved him off, eyes flicking over the papers. “My sister is a neurosurgeon, you know. I helped her study all the time. I can read a chart just fine.” The other pilot looked over your charts in silence before dragging her gaze to him. “Rooster said you were the one who found her before the paramedics arrived.”
It wasn’t a question but Jake still nodded with his stomach curling into knots.
She snapped the chart shut and clipped back onto the edge of your bed. “You helped save her life. Keeping pressure on her wounds likely kept her from bleeding out before they could sew her back up. Your hands helped her then, they won’t hurt her now.”
Bob stepped to his pilot’s side with a sigh, halting anything Jake could have said. “We should probably get back to base.” He then clapped Jake on the shoulder with a small smile. “Let us know if you need anything. Either of you.”
Phoenix essentially did the same and turned toward the door. Just before she disappeared into the hall, she turned back to Jake and set her mouth in a firm line. “You are two of the most stubborn people I’ve met. But don’t be stubborn with this. Okay?” And then she turned and left, leaving Jake alone with you again.
Damn.
They won’t hurt her now.
He had to believe her. He had to. Slowly, Jake sat back down and reached out. His hand hovered over yours for a moment before gently falling over yours, mindful of your bandages. You were warm, so warm. Alive. Tears stung at Jake’s eyes as he curled his fingers around yours. He had nearly lost you. He could still see your scared eyes looking up at him. He could still see the blood on your teeth. He could still see it all. Jake raised your joined hands to his mouth and he brushed a kiss to your fingers. “I’m right here, Punch. All right? I just need you to wake up for me. Show me those beautiful eyes, darlin’.”
But you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t move. And Jake had to continue to hope that you would soon.
A nurse came in a few moments later and looked you over, carefully poking and prodding before injecting something into one of your IVs. The twitching of your fingers grew slower and slower until it stopped.
“What did you give her?” Jake asked.
The nurse threw him a look over her shoulder before scribbling something in the chart. “Just something for the pain. She’s going to be uncomfortable when she wakes up. That should just take the edge off for now, until we can figure out how she’ll respond to other pain medication.”
Before Jake could even think to ask if they knew when you could wake up, a familiar face was bursting through the doorway and nearly leveling the nurse who was trying to leave. Sarah Kazansky was a flurry of movement as she came in, looking like she’d sprinted out of her house at first light to arrive at the hospital.
“Oh, my sweet girl.” Sarah’s voice shook as she took the chair at your side and set both her hands over yours. “What has he done to you?” The woman sniffled and moved to press the back of her hand to your forehead, the standard mom move to check a kid’s temperature, before setting her hand on your cheek. Sarah was quiet for a moment before she slowly turned to look at Jake with tears in her eyes. “Bradley said you found her.”
Apparently Bradley had told everyone more information than he had let on. “Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded. “I’m glad it was you.” It was a strange thing to say, but Jake didn’t voice that opinion. Sarah knuckled at the corners of her watery eyes. “You know, I always wanted another child—it wouldn’t happen, but then she came barreling into our lives and she just fit, like she’d always meant to be mine. Always meant to be the third kid for me and Tom. She knew exactly how to help me when I needed it, knew what Tom needed without him needing to ask for it. Lord knows he’d never ask for anything.” She huffed, a wet laugh. “She might not have come out of me, but she is mine. She’s my girl. And she looked at you like you hung the moon, you know.” She smiled at him then. “I’ve never seen her look at anyone like that. And then you looked at her like she had done the same.”
Jake didn’t particularly know what he was supposed to do with that observation, but he found himself smiling. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at hiding it as he had once hoped. And you had let your guard down enough in the home of the family you loved to be open enough to show how you felt. “Sometimes, I think she did.”
Sarah’s smile widened a fraction but still didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She deserves that. She’ll make you work for it though.”
“She’s already put me through my paces, I promise,” Jake said with a small smile of his own. “But she’s worth it.”
The older woman looked at him then, quiet and calculating, and Jake once again found himself fighting the urge to stand a little straighter in the presence of a Kazansky woman. She must have found something in his face because she gave a shallow nod before turning back to you. Her thumb swept over your knuckles. “Thank you for saving my girl.”
Both of them were quiet for a stretched moment, not needing to say anything else to each other. Sarah did stand when yet another doctor walked in and grabbed at your chart. “What can you tell me about her prognosis?”
The doctor, a man who looked like he’d been waiting for this exact question, nodded with a small smile as he folded his hands over the chart. “The fact that she needed little more than observation overnight is only good news. From what I understand from the surgeon, she is resilient. Once she wakes up, which should be shortly, she may be in a great deal of pain. It will only be temporary and I can assume that she will make a full recovery if she has the support she will need.”
“She’ll have it,” Jake said. You would have him no matter what you needed.
**
Coming back to yourself felt like swimming through tar, slow and strenuous. Even opening your eyes was a herculean effort and you immediately hated how bright the room was. It felt as if you’d tried to inhale an over-bleached towel and you tried to swallow any spit to help with the dryness but only ended up coughing. That was when your body decided to remind you that you had been stabbed twice. The pain stretched across your body like a whip of heat lashed out from your stomach. You bit back another cough and grimaced as it only made your throat ache. You looked to the side to see if there was a glass of water or something you could sip on and the room tilted for a moment.
“Fuck.” You hurriedly shut your eyes to keep your stomach from lurching. A section of the bed falling near your knees had you slowly opening one eye.
It was Jake.
Your Ken.
And he was sticking a bendy straw into a small cup of water before holding it near your mouth after pushing the button on the side of the bed to get you into a slightly elevated position, sitting instead of fully on your back. “Small sips, okay, Punch? Don’t overdo it.”
The water almost had you wincing as it filled your overly dry mouth but you still took a few more sips, breathing easier when your throat didn’t feel like sandpaper anymore. As you took a final sip, straw falling from your lips, you were still looking at Jake, feeling a little less like a human bobble head, but still a little strange.
He only stepped away from you for a moment to call for a nurse before returning to your side again. He didn’t say much, but his eyes were roving all over you, making you think he was trying to find something you were hiding. In your hazed mind, you wondered what you could possibly be hiding. Did you take his car keys?
The small bit of confusion continued as a nurse swept into the room and started to ask you a few questions you blearily answered and then had to sit still while a doctor looked you over, too, pressing lightly at your side and checking the weird tube and patch jutting out under your arm. By the time they finished and you were nodding along when they said they would be back to check on you again later in the day, you felt a little more settled in your skin.
Jake, who had stood near the window the entire time and hadn’t moved aside from nodding when the doctor or nurse told or asked him something, moved to stand at your side again. “How’re you feeling? What do you need?”
“Are you okay?” you asked in return.
Jake’s smile was shaky and you could tell he was tired–you couldn’t miss the rumpled shirt and matching hair, nor the dark circles beneath his eyes. But he was still beautiful. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that, Punch.”
“I feel like I’ve been stabbed twice and then put in one of those spinners at the state fair.”
“Well, you look great, all things considered.” His fingers brushed your cheek and you leaned into it as best you could.
“You’re such a liar. I know I look like shit.”
“You’re beautiful, same as always. Just a little banged up.” And he said it so sincerely that you almost had tears in your eyes.
You hated that it took being stabbed twice for you to give yourself permission to really try to be happy again. Jake could make you happy, wanted to make you happy, would make you happy. You knew that even with the residual effects of the anesthesia and everything else falling on your shoulders.
You just had to let him.
“Do you still want to get that steak dinner with me?” You asked, hating how small your voice sounded.
Jake smiled—fucking smiled—and moved to smooth a hand over your forehead before brushing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you cleared for solid foods first, okay?”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a hell yes. But let’s make sure you can move without tearing a stitch.”
You smiled, ignoring how you felt one of your lips start to crack. “I’ll even let you pick me up.”
Jake’s sea glass eyes sparkled in the shitty fluorescent lights. He’d always been so pretty. “And you’ll let me pay? What about bringing you flowers, can that be negotiated?”
Just for a moment, you paused as thoughts raced through your mind. This was different. He wasn’t Luke and you weren’t scared of him. “Only if I get to take you out to ice cream afterward.”
“Oh, you’re already thinking you’ll make it to dessert?” He teased with a smirk you could feel pressing into your skin as he brushed another kiss against your forehead. “Presumptuous.”
“I have it on good authority that you may like me, even when I look like death.” You hoped your smile was convincing as he stepped back, warm hand still holding the side of your throat.
His thumb smoothed a gentle path across your pulse as his green eyes locked with yours. “You look like you beat death back with a stick.” He paused and you knew he was trying to choose his words carefully. “It’s a good look, you know. But I’d appreciate it if I never have to see you like this again.” His words held none of his usual bravado or confidence and your heart dropped when you noticed just how sad he looked. And not just sad. Scared.
You blindly reached up to grasp at his hand, curling your fingers over his thumb in an attempt to prove to him that you were okay–you could deal with the slight ache in your hands later. You just needed him to be okay, too. “It was a baseball bat, but I can promise you I have zero intention of trying to do it again.”
“Good.” He pulled in a slow breath and you felt him twist his hand in our grip so he could pull your joined hands up and he pressed a kiss to your fingers before holding your hand gently between both of his on the edge of your bed. It was like he couldn’t stop touching you and you reveled in it. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
The simple sentence had your entire chest flooding with warmth. Feelings you had tried to ignore were pushing at the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t form the words. Not yet. Not even with Bradley’s words ringing like a bell at the back of your mind. “I’ll try to make sure you never have to find out.”
The look in Jake’s eyes had the warmth in your chest growing hotter. It was too knowing, too wanting, too…
His mouth opened and then shut again and Jake shook his head. He hooked a foot around the leg of the chair behind him and lowered himself into it as he kept a hold of your hand. “I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?” You asked, feeling your face scrunch in confusion.
Jake licked at his lips and took a deep breath in. “They still haven’t found him.”
“What?” The single word cracked on your tongue as familiar claws of dread started to close around your heart. “What do you mean?”
“The cops lost him somewhere behind your neighbor’s house but-”
“No, no, no, no. Don’t tell me that.” One of the machines at your side started to beep and flash. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “Jake. Don’t tell me that. They-they have to ca-catch him! How-”
Jake moved to smooth his hands up your arms until he was gently grasping the back of your neck and he pushed his forehead against yours. “They’re out there, right now, looking for him. They’re not going to stop until they catch him. And he is not evergoing to touch you again. I won’t let that happen.”
“J-Jake.” His name broke in your throat and you hated that the tears you knew were forming in your eyes only brought you more pain and embarrassment. This had to be a nightmare. Had to be. There was no way you nearly died and Luke was still out there. “He…he…”
“Luke is not going to touch you ever again. I swear it.”
Tears blurred your vision despite the strength shading Jake’s words. “You don’t know that.”
“I do because I’m going to make sure he never touches you again. I don’t care if I have to put him in the ground, he’s not putting his hands on you again.”
The machines were still whirring, sounding your distress out into the room and letting it echo like a wraith in the sterile air. But Jake did not pull away, did not tell you that you needed to calm down or negate anything that you were feeling, but he held you through it until your breathing evened out again and you slumped further into your flat pillow but did not pull away from Jake. “I can’t do it again,” you whispered.
“You won’t have to.”
You blinked away the tears in your eyes and pushed Jake back just enough to look at him. The fear you saw in his face was gone now, replaced by a steely determination you only usually saw before climbing up into the cockpit of his jet. He was going to do anything for you–the thought was equal parts horrifying and comforting. “I don’t want you to get hurt for me either.”
“We are going to be fine. Both of us. And we’re going to go get that steak.” He reached up with his other hand to carefully cup your cheek and you remembered that he held you like this when he’d kissed you in your living room. It all seemed like ages ago now. And you wanted his words to be true, to know that you'd both be okay when this was finally finished. But something whispered at the back of your mind that you and Jake weren’t safe. Not yet. Not when Luke was still out there.
A knock at the door had you separating and looking to see a grim looking MP walking into the room. “There’s a detective here to speak with you,” he said, looking at you. “I can send him away if you’re not available.”
Jake looked at you, waiting for your answer. “Let him in. I should probably get this over with.”
The MP nodded and stepped out again before escorting a man in an ill-fitting suit into your room. “I’m Detective White, I just need to ask you a few questions.” He held out his hand but quickly retracted it when you reached out with your own bandaged one and then hurried to grab a small pad of paper from inside his jacket and tapped a pen on the top of it with a terse smile. “It won’t take long.”
Instead, Jake squeezed your hand with a small smile. “I’ll just be right outside.”
Would it be ridiculous for you to want him to stay? To say that you felt safer with him in the room? You could feel the detective’s eyes on you and you hated it. You hated how stupid you felt in that moment and how insecure and ridiculous. “Can he stay?”
“Miss-”
Jake immediately said your rank and last name, making sure to put enough emphasis on it that he knew that was the correct way to address you. It made you smile for a moment, knowing he meant it as a way to protect you. “I’d like him to stay.”
The detective’s eyes darted to Jake for a moment before he squeakily cleared his throat. Your name and rank soon followed and he tapped his pen on his pad of paper again. “That isn't standard procedure.”
“Look, I have two holes in me that shouldn’t be there. Jake held me together and kept me alive until I could get to the professionals. And I’d still like him to stay.”
Jake hid a smirk behind his hand before he sank into the chair by your bed.
“Okay, well,” the detective started as a ruddy blush blotched across his cheeks, “we can work with that.”
The interview took hours. You only stopped once to sip on some water and poke at the bland hospital food that was delivered and that was mostly at the behest of the bedraggled nurse who came in to check on you. And Jake did not move from his post at your side. When you had paused to catch your breath, embarrassed, angry tears biting at the back of your eyes, Jake always managed to keep you steady without even needing to say more than, “it’s okay, Punch, you got this.”
Detective White did actually shake your hand on his way out and you tried to ignore how his grip made you innately aware of the stitches in your palm. “We’ll get him, I swear it.”
You hoped he had more confidence in his police work than what you heard in his voice. He sounded unsure. When the detective left, you turned to Jake to see him frowning, yet again. “You feel as good as I do about that, huh?”
He sighed and shook his head. “They haven’t exactly proved to be reliable. Or competent.”
You laughed—it was worth the sharp ache in your stomach. You had to laugh otherwise you may cry again. “Well, I guess we will just have to wait and see.” What else could you do?
Another knock at the door pulled your attention and you were thankful for the distraction, even more so when you realized it was Rueben and Mickey now sticking their heads into the room. You quickly waved them in and let them shower you with movies and books they had brought to help you pass the time and you laughed when Mickey said you now had no excuse to not start watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The pilot and WSO were always kind and funny, but you could tell they had questions and you set the Blu-ray set aside before taking a deep breath. “You can ask. ‘s all right.”
You had always thought the bond between pilot and WSO was intrinsic and nearly magical, and you got to watch it in action when Reuben looked to Mickey and they were quiet for a moment before turning back to you. “Are you okay?” Reuben asked gently.
Your shoulders slumped. They were always so nice to you. “I’ve been told that I’ll be okay eventually. I just need to take it easy for a while.”
They asked if you needed anything in particular and didn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer and promised to bring you every unhealthy food they could think of once you were cleared for “real people food,” as they called it. Mickey’s watch beeped a few minutes later and he sighed. “Time’s up for us, Mav’s only given us an hour each.”
“Apparently he thinks that Cyclone would notice if we all just didn’t show up today.”
You had to smile at that. Captain Mitchell creating a timetable so all the Daggers could come visit without higher brass permission to skirt duty was probably the most on-brand thing you could think of him doing. It was a kindness, truly. Perhaps you should have confided in him—Tom had trusted him, Bradley, too. But maybe trusting people implicitly would take more time.
You said your goodbyes to Mickey and Rueben and Jake somehow got a blu-ray player delivered to your room and set it up quickly after belatedly pointing out the flowers Bob and Natasha had brought you—they were your favorites. You’d have to text them a thank you later.
“Look at you go, Ken. So handy. Next I’ll have you painting walls and tightening leaky faucets.”
A lazy wink was thrown over his shoulder in your direction. “Whatever you need, Punch. I’m pretty handy.”
You laughed and tried to ignore the stinging bite that came with it but you still set your hand over your stomach as if that would help disguise what you were feeling from his gaze. It didn’t work at all and Jake abandoned his task to hurry to your side. “I’m fine,” you said, pushing a smile to your face and hoped that would be enough for him to ignore how the heart rate monitor beeped erratically for a moment as you tried to breathe through the new wave of pain.
Jake shook his head. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m here to help you.”
You sighed. That would be another thing you would have to work through. “Sorry. I just…” Your words trailed off as Jake once again took your hand in his. He might be fond of touching you, but you knew you were fond of him touching you. He was always so gentle with you. “I just don’t want to cause a fuss.” Which you knew was stupid because you were in the hospital after being nearly murdered.
“You are worth the fuss.”
Was it pathetic to think of that as romantic? Maybe. But your heart still leapt as he looked at you but a familiar, self-satisfied smirk started to push at his mouth when your heart rate monitor betrayed you and let out a happy little beep-be-beep and there was no way you could talk your way out of it.
His smirk faded the slightest bit before he said, “I mean it. You’re worth the fuss. You’re worth a lot more than what you’ve been given.”
The fact that Jake wanted to be the one to prove it to you was even better. You just had to let him, you reminded yourself.
“Am I interrupting something?”
You and Jake retreated from each other (you mostly just pushed further into the pillow at your back) as Callie and Neil came in with balloons and another bouquet of flowers. They told you how the Daggers and other ADs were keeping it quiet about why you were currently in the hospital, but the Top Gun hopefuls did send along their well wishes that you supposed they mostly meant (except Royal, who you knew didn’t have a sincere bone in his body).
When they left, you got exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds into the first episode of Deep Space Nine before Billy, Logan, and Brigham came in with a teddy bear wearing a miniature version of their flight suits and your last name stitched over the heart. They also told you that there has been increased security stationed at every entrance to the base with extra protocols in place for entry.
Good. Luke probably wasn’t quite dumb enough to try anything on base, but knowing your friends would be safe on base was a comfort.
Javy was the next to visit, a small duffle bag in hand for Jake and wearing a suspiciously wiggly coat. He unzipped it with a wink and a familiar dog was carefully placed on your bed. “Sweet Pea!” You happily squealed at the sight of the tenacious Pekingese. She was quick to clamor up your legs to offer you a lick at your chin in greeting before immediately making herself comfortable in your lap. “You’re breaking so many rules right now,” you said, more traitorous tears stinging your eyes as you sank your fingers into Sweet Pea’s soft fur. You had watched Sweet Pea for Javy during his deployment a few months ago and had fallen head over heels for the dog immediately, even going so far to ask Javy for weekly updates, which he readily gave.
Javy waved it away and gave you a quick kiss on the temple. “You’re worth it, Punch. And she was missing you anyway.”
Jake nudged him with a halfhearted scowl but you hardly cared when your fingers sank into the dog’s fur again. You didn’t even mind when Sweat Pea started to gnaw on the teddy bear, she was your favorite and the bear was probably machine washable anyway.
Javy eventually left after a close call with a doctor who came in to administer another dose of pain medication and to check on your stitches. You and Jake eventually settled in enough to watch a few episodes after he changed into the fresh clothes Javy had brought him.
(“What is this show even about?”
“I have no idea.”)
After another gelatinous meal was presented to you and Jake only half heartedly tried to get you to eat it, you were handed a new set of pills by your doctor who told you that they would help stave off infection and probably make you a little sleepy, too.
“I do recommend you take them with food,” the doctor said after spying your uneaten lunch pushed off to the side.
Well, that certainly wasn’t going to happen but you said you would eat it before taking the pills just so he would leave the room.
“You’re not actually going to eat that, right?” Jake said in a low and disgusted voice as soon as he was sure the doctor was out of earshot.
“Absolutely not.”
“Good. I’ll grab you a smoothie or something from the cafeteria downstairs. Do not take that without eating.” And then he was dashing away, startling one of the MPs at your door by the sound of it, too. When he returned, your favorite smoothie in hand, you had a hard time keeping the smile off your face even as the large pills stuck briefly in your throat. No one had really taken care of you like this. Not since you were a child, anyway. Red tape had kept you alone after Luke’s first two attempts on your life and you had to heal alone and in silence. This was new. Different. And for the umpteenth time, you realized that Jake wanted to do this for you. All of it.
You really needed to have a talk with him. A real talk. Unfortunately, it seemed the doctor’s warning that the medication would make you sleepy was an understatement. As soon as you finished your smoothie, you were already fighting to keep your eyes open. Jake took your empty cup from you and threw it away and you saw him starting to settle into his chair again, a wince already scrunching his features.
“You need to go home and get some sleep.”
Jake’s eyes cut to you with a frown. “I slept just fine here last night. And it is barely past lunch anyway.”
You sighed but the fondness clouding your lungs had it sounding a little forced and your limbs were sagging with the need for sleep. “Stubborn man. You have work tomorrow. I won’t have you falling asleep at the controls because of me.”
“I could just not go in,” he muttered like a child.
“Ken!” You chided, fighting a smile, lips twitching at the corners. “I’m not worth going AWOL.”
His face scrunched, as if he was insulted. “I already told you this: you’re worth a lot.”
God. He was infuriating and adorable. And usually only used one of those words when describing him. “I need you to go to work, all right? After getting a goodnight’s rest in a bed.” You watched him open his mouth and quickly added, “and no, I can’t just scoot over to make room for you in this one.”
Jake was quiet again, mulling over his options, before standing. “I can be back in time for dinner, or whatever slop they give you in a few hours, and-”
You raised a lethargic hand toward him and sighed when he laced your fingers together, letting his sentence go unfinished. “I need you rested, all right? I need you flying; that’s where I know you’re safe. Happy.” You yawned, the ache you’d been fighting settled into your bones, low but manageable. Damn, those pills were something else. And so were Jake’s eyes.
“I can be happy here, too.”
“Go home, sweet man. Visit tomorrow. Take a shower. Sleep.” You definitely were about to fall asleep. Everything felt so warm and loose, almost like you had one too many drinks to be tipsy.
“You saying I smell?” He asked with a laugh, but he still leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead.
“Yes—like blood and hospital. But you’re still so pretty. Pretty Ken.”
He chuckled and you felt him stand rather than saw him as your eyes finally closed. “Yeah, my pretty darlin’. You win this round.” With another careful kiss to your temple and his thumb pressing at the edge of your chin, he was gone and you were out like a light.
The next afternoon, you woke up to the sun shining in through the window and Bradley setting a bag onto the chair beside your bed. When he noticed you were awake, a slow smile started to push across his mouth. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”
“Hey,” you replied, the single syllable slow and syrupy with sleep.
He moved a little closer and you could see the circles beneath his eyes and his caramel waves were in a bit of a mess. But his service khakis were still neatly pressed—that was good. “You were asleep when I came in yesterday. Seresin said they gave you some pretty heavy duty stuff. How’re you feeling?”
That pain medication must’ve truly been something else because you mostly just felt uncomfortable rather than anything else. “I’m okay. Might be hungry though.”
Bradley’s smile widened a fraction and he opened the bag and pulled out a sandwich from the deli just off base that you frequented, usually with Bradley, and your cellphone which had almost 200 notifications. “I asked, like, four nurses if you were cleared for real people food and they said as long as you don’t overdo it, you should be fine.”
You weren’t entirely sure how you could overdo eating a sandwich, but you weren’t about to ask in fear of them taking the sandwich away and replacing it with the slop you managed to evade yesterday. It felt like heaven in your hands when Bradley (carefully) set it in your grasp. “Yeah sure,” you said, suddenly much more awake than you had been moments before.
But he also held out a bottle of water and shook it. “Water first. Sandwich later.”
“Then you should have led with the water,” you grumbled but you still drank it with careful sips after he glared at you after you sputtered over your first overzealous mouthful. He let out an exaggerated sigh when you pouted as he put your medication on the little table beside your bed and said you needed to take those, too. He really did bait and switch with the sandwich. A true big brother move that you begrudgingly accepted with a smile you tried to hide behind your water bottle.
(The sandwich in question was delicious and you didn’t even care that Bradley told you to slow down twice—you should have listened because you felt nauseous for a solid hour after polishing it off. Worth it.)
Bradley sat and watched an episode of Deep Space Nine with you before he told you that Sarah was planning on stopping by again today and that Bob and Natasha would probably try to swing by after being dismissed for the day, too. “Your sister is a very avid texter, by the way.” He pulled out his phone and showed you the fifteen texts he’d received from Georgie in the last two hours. They were all about you, obviously, and your stay in the hospital. Toward the end of her barrage of texts was a quick, also, Danny is wondering who this ‘hangman’ is. Might want to give both of them a heads up.
You almost laughed at that. After noticing your parents’ complete detachment from you, Danny had taken up the self-imposed role of ‘protective brother’ and had tried his best (either from a hospital bed or across state lines or both). It had always made you smile because he was more likely to throw a textbook at someone and then run away than to actually throw a punch. He was a good man. Gentle. A good brother to you. You knew he and Georgie would like Jake, even if they pretended not to for a solid five minutes.
“I’ll handle her. Promise. How was everyone yesterday and this morning?”
“Hangman was a little distracted.”
“Was he okay? Did he-”
“He’s fine,” Bradley said, fighting a smile. “But he did pull some stupid stunt when Royal was about to get tone on him.”
“Oh? It must have been something else if you’re calling it stupid,” you teased, earning a halfhearted glare in return. But this was good. Almost normal. Like you weren’t in a hospital and Bradley wasn’t taking a day of leave to stay at your side. Then you remembered… “Oh, Bradley, your date with Natasha! I ruined it! You were supposed to go to dinner, weren’t you? Natasha had a plan-”
Bradley’s hand settling over your arm quickly halted the rest of your rambling. “Please chill out.”
“Okay, but, what if I don’t?”
“They’ll probably have to sedate you,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “It is fine. Really. We rescheduled.”
“Easy as that?” You asked. Guilt still twisted your stomach. They had been in love with each other for years and had one date and then you had to get stabbed and ruin their second.
But Bradley nodded. “Easy as that. I took my time to get off my perch, I don’t mind waiting a little longer for a second date. We both would have just been worried about you anyway.”
You grimaced, guilt still gnawing at your bones. “I’m sorry anyway.”
“You did not purposely get stabbed so we couldn’t get a second date,” Bradley said, voice more serious than it had been just a moment ago. “Please don’t beat yourself up about it. We have time. We made time.”
You moved to set your other hand over his with a sigh. “If you say so.” God, you hoped it was true.
It would be a long recovery, you knew that. But it seemed a little easier this time, even with the extra damage, because you had people that cared about you. You weren’t lonely and twiddling your thumbs alone in the hospital room, waiting to be released and being told to keep your mouth shut or to report to the brass as soon as you were discharged. This was different.
It was different when the Daggers still took turns visiting you and your fellow ADs did, too. Sarah stopped by as well, and made you video chat with Junior and Lily who both worried over you until you promised that you would be fine. They both offered to visit, or in Lily’s case she offered to smuggle you out of the hospital, but you declined and told them to both just focus on wedding planning or classes. “I’ll be fine!” You even winked for good measure.
Yeah. This time was different. Recovery wasn’t exactly a walk in the park and the tube coming out of your side was always annoying and bordering on itchy, but you got through it because you had people who cared about you. To your delight and dismay, Jake was the most frequent visitor to your stuffy hospital room. He brought food and books and seemed to be watching Deep Space Nine on his own because he was never lost when he sat down to watch an episode or two with you.
It was good and gentle and god you wished you could kiss him again. But it seemed he was trying to give your poor heart a break and rile you up at the same time. You had never been treated so…delicately before. Like you were something, someone precious. But god you wanted to kiss him. Even more so when he was the one to wheel you out of the hospital, complete with boyish car noises when he would speed around a corner. You weren’t even a little surprised when he drove you to the temporary housing on base instead of your house, only relieved. Bob and Natasha had been the one to tell you it was probably a good idea for you to not stay at your house for the time being and had set up your stay on base. You didn’t need a ton of convincing; you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to step foot into your little bungalow again without seeing Luke hiding in the shadows or your blood staining the floors.
The temporary housing was little more than a hotel room with a kitchenette, but you weren’t about to complain. Not when all of the Daggers and your fellow ADs were waiting inside with balloons and your favorite junk food to welcome you ‘home.’ Natasha and Bradley had brought all of your clothes and a few of your pictures, too, to help make it seem a little more like home. Over a glass of a virgin Bee’s Knees, whipped up by Penny who asked you if you were taking your medicine with a motherly look, you caught Jake’s eye across the small living room as he spoke with Callie. He smiled and raised his beer in your direction with a wink.
Oh, what an asshole. It should not be allowed for him to look like that and not want to kiss him senseless. Or have him kiss you senseless. Either way, someone should be getting kissed senseless. But he had been almost resolute in not kissing you. A small voice at the back of your mind whispered that maybe all of this, the stalking, the blood, the stress, the hospital stay, had all been too much for him. That you had been too much for him.
But he had been sweet. He kissed your cheeks, your temples, the tip of your nose. He held your hand and made you smile and laugh when you needed it most. He wanted to be near you. Didn’t he? You hoped so. He never seemed to care when you called in the middle of the night with another nightmare filled with Luke and hidden knives, making the drive across base to sit with you in the low light of your temporary living room, sipping on hot chocolate and watching Golden Girls reruns in silence until you fell asleep again. “If you call, I’ll come,” he had said. And he did. Every time. Didn’t make it any less confusing though.
It was entirely unsurprising to be put onto desk duty when you were finally able to report back to base two days later. Admiral Bates was kind and popped his head into your office every other hour to make sure you were comfortable. “You can leave at any time, if needed. Please take it easy.” Admiral Simpson also seemed to be doing the most to not even give you paperwork to do. They were being kind but you were so bored. It didn’t feel like you worked if you didn’t have oil soaked into your skin by lunch. The other ADs kept you up to date on what each of the jets needed every day so you could jump right back in when you were cleared for it.
You actually volunteered to take on the extra paperwork from the other ADs so you could still feel like you were contributing a few days into your new duties. It sometimes had you staying later than everyone else but you slowly started to enjoy the quiet of your office when almost everyone had gone home, especially on Fridays before the start of the weekend.
Almost everyone.
A knock at your door had you looking up to see Jake leaning against the frame and you hated how your heart leapt at the sight of him…and how the sleeve of his service khakis strained against the bulk of his arm. “Hey, darlin’.”
“Hey stranger,” you replied, setting your pen down. With the outgoing of the Top Gun graduates and the incoming of a new class, Jake had been busy alongside most of the Daggers. There were rumblings of a deployment, too, so you tried not to take his absence personally. If you had been out in the hangar or on the flight line, you would have seen more of him. Also, a lot of your free time was filled with check ups with your doctor and your new therapist. Both seemed to be hopeful for you. Your writing was going well, too, if you did say so yourself. Both Natasha and Bradley were still buzzing in that new relationship glow and you were so happy for them to finally be together—you even made sure to have them do the necessary paperwork as soon as possible so nothing would take them off guard. Detective White and the rest of the cops on your case were apparently following leads about Luke’s whereabouts but didn’t have much more to say other than, “when we know something, we will let you know.” You tried not to dwell on it, focusing on what made you happy. And you hardly left base anyway.
“I’ve got a question for you.” He walked into your office with a smirk playing on his mouth and an arm tucked behind his back.
“I’ve got an answer.”
When he reached the edge of your desk, he pulled an almost comically large bouquet of flowers out from behind his back. It was a beautiful mix of sunflowers, peonies, and tulips and you took them carefully as you stood, your heart in your throat. “These are for you.”
“They’re gorgeous, but that is not a question, you know. Questions are meant to gain an answer, or elicit information from another party-”
Jake groaned, rolling his eyes. “Busting my balls after I give you flowers? I should have expected that.”
You laughed and brushed your fingers against the buttery petals, delighting in the soft aroma of the bouquet. “Probably.”
“But my question was,” he started, pausing either for dramatic effect or just to rile you up. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”
The smile that split your face almost hurt and you attempted to hide it behind the flowers for a moment before Jake hooked a finger in the wrapping and slowly pulled it down with a smile of his own. “You sure did take your time asking.”
Jake’s smile grew. “Technically, you asked back at the hospital, but since you never followed up on it, I figured I could be the bigger person and ask you.”
Your mouth opened then closed again as an embarrassed heat started to inch its way up your throat. “That…is not fair. You technically asked back at my house.”
“And I’m asking again.”
God, he was something else and you couldn’t help but let the growing smile split your face as you nodded. “Then yes, I am saying yes again.” What else could you possibly say?
“Perfect. Phoenix has a dress and shoes waiting for you in our locker room and I will meet you back out here in thirty minutes, okay?”
“Oh, you thought of everything, huh?” You asked with a shake of your head.
“I had some time. But you don’t—our reservation only has a five minute window.”
You grumbled good-naturedly to try to keep the butterflies you felt rioting in your stomach at bay. “Fine. I’ll be back.” And if your steps to the locker room were a little hurried, he thankfully didn’t mention it. The dress Natasha picked out for you was perfect, midi length with a slit up the thigh with a floral print—she must have found it at the back of your closet. The shoes were sensible but cute, found in a box you had kept at the back of your closet, too. Damn, she knew you so well. There was a sticky note on the dress’ hanger: Have fun! But not too much! Your makeup bag was on the shelf above and you hurriedly touched everything up before meeting Jake out in the hallway with your heart thrumming a happy beat behind your ribs. He had changed, too, into a smartly tailored pair of black trousers and a button up shirt of the same shade tucked in. It was almost unfair how beautiful he was.
Another smile broke across his face as he looked you over and you felt like one of your heroines when he reached out for you. “You look beautiful.”
As promised, he drove you to the ritzy restaurant and you delighted in the weight of his hand on your thigh the entire time as your flowers were safely kept in a vase in the backseat. It wasn’t until you pulled into the filled parking lot that you realized that you hadn’t looked out the window once in search of a black charger.
You felt safe.
He held the door open for you and tucked your chair into the table. It really was like a dream, even when the waitress flirted with Jake. Why? Because he simply reached across the table to curl his hand over yours as you fiddled with your silverware roll.
Gentle. He was being gentle and choosing you.
The conversation was quiet and easy as you ordered and you tried not to laugh when your original waitress was nowhere to be found.
“There’s this Italian place a little up the coast. We should try that next.”
While you enjoyed this peaceful bubble, you couldn’t resist poking at him like you always did. You cocked an eyebrow as you cut into your perfectly done steak. It almost melted in your mouth as you saw Jake glance at you as he cut into his own. “Oh, I was presumptuous by thinking we should get ice cream after this but you’re already planning the next date?”
His fork froze just in front of his mouth and you watched his eyes go wide for a moment. “I…”
“Relax. I’m always game for pasta.”
Jake’s answering smile split his face and couldn’t hide the tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Good. That’s good.”
As promised (after bickering over who got to pay for dinner), you had Jake pull over into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop on the way back to base and you each ordered their version of snickers ice cream. You both happily ate it as it tried to melt down to your fingers when you watched the moon’s reflection over the ocean after Jake found an overlook a few minutes down the road. As you licked the remnants of the treat from your lips, Jake hopped out of the truck and you watched him jog over to your side and pull open the door. He reached over you for a moment, letting his expensive cologne flood your senses again, and turned up the radio. Some old country song—yes, you would make fun of him for this later—filled the truck but you still put your hand in Jake’s when he held out a hand for you to take.
“Dance with me?”
The singer crooned about love and the moon and you laughed as Jake spun you under his arm. This could have been a scene from one of your books, you could scurry home after this, write it all down, and sell a million copies of your next book just because of this scene. But you knew you wanted to keep this just for yourself. This was just for you and Jake. You’d never feel like this before; happy, desired, fulfilled but hopeful for more. Hopeful for more with Jake.
Just for a few beats of the song, you wished you hadn’t waited so long. Hadn’t tried so hard to keep him at arm’s length. Hadn’t let Luke win for so long.
One song turned into two, turned into three and you only separated because a car drove by and honked obnoxiously. You laughed and pushed your face into Jake’s chest for a moment, listening to the rumble of his own chuckle. When your giggles subsided, you tilted your head to smile at him, probably looking like a loon but you hardly cared when he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.
He leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t move. His lips pressed against yours gently before you surged forward, making it abundantly clear that you were not going anywhere. His warm hands held you firm as they slid up your arms to frame your face. There was no resistance when he licked at the seam of your lips, and you didn’t even care about the happy sigh you let out, hands scrunching into his soft shirt. He tasted like ice cream and that damned minted toothpick and you couldn’t get enough, pressing closer closer closer to let him keep kissing you in any way he wanted.
It wasn’t until your lungs protested that you broke away, chest heaving with the need for air. Jake stole another quick kiss anyway, letting you feel his smile against your mouth. “Let me get you home, darlin’.”
You nodded with a smile you hoped wasn’t too wide and let him buckle you in after he opened the truck door for you again. The smile, however, couldn’t be contained when his hand once again found a home on your thigh. When he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the stretch of temporary housing buildings, you let out a laugh when Jake all but bolted out of his seat to run around to your side of the truck and open your door, your flowers in hand. You slipped your hand into the crook of his offered arm and let him walk you toward your door.
“I had a great time tonight,” you murmured as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The dim light from the nearest streetlight cast him in a buttery light and almost made him look like some sort of old Hollywood leading man—you’d never tell him that. His ego was big enough.
“I did, too.” The warmth in his tone matched the soft look he sent you as you stepped up to your door.
You could have asked about the Italian restaurant he had mentioned earlier or bargained with him that you get to pay for dinner next time and he could pay for dessert as a reversal of what happened tonight, but instead, you listened to the butterflies in your stomach and asked, “would you like to come inside?”
Jake paused for a moment before nodding, almost hesitant.
You unlocked the door and waved him in, watching as he set your flowers on the small table beside the door. After setting your purse on the couch, you turned to face Jake and tried to resist the urge to wipe your slightly sweaty palms on your dress as you kicked off your shoes. Maybe you had misread everything. Or maybe he was still trying to “treat you right,” by his standards and take things slow. You wanted to respect what he wanted. “You don’t have to stay, Ken.” But god, you wanted him to.
Jake huffed before shaking his head. “You gotta know that I don’t want to leave, Punch. But I don’t want to hurt you. I would never-”
“I’m okay,” you let out in a rush. “I promise.” The smile you tried to keep from your face pushed its way free anyway as you shuffled a little closer to him.
“And I want to keep you that way.” Jake shook his head and you almost shivered when he let his fingers trail down your arms before dropping back to his sides, like he just needed to touch you. “Trust me, there’s nothing more I’d like than to keep this date going, but I would not be able to live with myself if I set you back in your recovery because I did something.” The slightest bit of pink dusted his cheeks as he said that, too.
It was so sweet. So adorably kind that all you could do was smile. “I’m not in danger of dying right now, Ken.”
“That’s not funny.”
You sighed and reached out to grasp his hands, pulling at them until they were pressing at your hips. “I’m here. Upright and mobile. I’m okay.”
“Your doctor said-”
“That I was cleared yesterday,” you said with a growing smile. That appointment had been a bright spot of your week for several reasons.
There was a slight pause before his hands tightened on your hips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, Ken.”
You felt his fingers drum against the low of your back before he leaned closer. “So, for twenty four hours, this entire date, I’ve been trying to be a gentleman and you-”
“Oh, just kiss me.”
And he did. His kiss immediately dominated all of your senses, hot, heavy, and hard. Your back hit the wall beside the door and you could feel Jake’s smile again as you giggled against his mouth. This was perfect.
The smile faded as Jake’s mouth slid down the side of your neck, no doubt feeling your thrumming pulse, and a breathy moan slipped from between your lips.
“I’ve hardly touched you,” Jake said, words vibrating against your heated skin as you let your hands grasp at his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself to something. “You already singin’ for me?”
Your laugh was just as embarrassingly breathy, too. “Can’t help it.” You really couldn’t. Every nerve ending was starting to spark and burn delightfully, your mind already hazing. He kissed you again and his grip tightened on your waist before trailing up your sides.
He pulled back just enough to breathe against your lips. “You want this?”
The question cleared your mind for a moment but only served to send a bolt of soft warmth straight through you. “I do. I want you, I want this,” you whispered in return.
You could feel his answering smile before he kissed you again, harder and bordering on desperate.
You wanted him.
He wanted you.
Jake pawed at the top of your dress until your breasts were spilling out, nipples instantly hardening against the air conditioned chill of your room. “Fucking beautiful,” Jake muttered before diving down to press a searing kiss right over the swell of your heart. His large hands yanked the rest of your dress down just enough for him to grab at your chest, squeezing your breasts together as he lathed attention on one and then the other and then back again. Kisses turned into licks, turned into the lightest scrapes of his teeth that had your breath stuttering and knees shaking.
“Jake…” Your voice was little more than a moan, torn from your throat.
Big sea glass green eyes peered up at you, nearing sparkling in the low light of the room, as he continued to bite and suck and kiss at the exposed skin. But then, as if knowing you were already too far gone for words, his lips closed around a nipple and tugged, pulling a keening whimper from you as your hands wove through his short blond hair, drawing him closer. The heat of him, of his talented mouth, was all consuming. You couldn’t control the tightening in your lower stomach, nor the whimpers that left your kiss-bitten lips as he switched to the other side.
“So perfect,” he said, words muffled as he burrowed his nose into your sternum. “Perfect for me.” He glanced up and your heart stuttered at the heat in his gaze. The green of his eyes was nearly entirely gone, eaten by the black of his pupil.
Your grip on his hair tightened the slightest bit, dragging him up again to press an open mouthed kiss against his wanting lips. “Take me to bed,” you panted.
It was a blessedly short trip to the bed on the other side of the room and as soon the backs of your knees hit the soft bedding his hands skimmed up your sides, dragging your dress with it. His lips followed, lathing heat against your skin and up your sternum. Then he slowly, carefully pulled the offending fabric off, taking care to not jerk your arms up too high or too quickly. But his attention was soon back on your skin, pressing his mouth against the swell of your breasts.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said, words muffled against your heated skin. He could probably feel your heart beating a mile a minute beneath your ribs. But you knew he did when he took a moment to press kisses to the raised scars that now littered your torso.
It was almost too much for you and you pulled him up and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before shoving it off his shoulders and then did the same to the button on his trousers and shoved them down before grabbing handfuls of his unfairly toned thighs and squeezing. You didn’t let go when he had to step out of his shoes and shoved his trousers off the rest of the way. God, he was warm everywhere. “You’re pretty,” you murmured against his neck, letting his expensive cologne and heat keep your mind buzzing.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You had to laugh but it quickly faded when Jake’s roughened hands slid down the expanse of your thighs, and his mouth followed, sliding along the soft skin on your right leg and then the left, making sure to press a hard kiss to the scars there, too. The simple touch had you quaking beneath his grasp. “It’s only fair, darlin’. You know how much I love these legs of yours.”
“Y-you’re ridiculous!”
“Maybe, but you’re still beautiful.” His thick fingers slipped under the lace edges of your underwear and quickly pulled them down and you just as readily kicked them away. A hot kiss was pressed to your right hip and then your left before he gently shoved you back onto the bed, your legs falling open. Wider shoulders had your legs spreading further as he shoved his way between them and he licked a bold strip through your folds and nearly had you wailing. “And you taste so good, too.” Again and again Jake licked and sucked and nibbled until the heat that had started burning with the first brush of his lips overwhelmed you and stars burst behind your eyes.
When you came down, your thighs were wrapped around Jake’s head and shaking but he didn’t seem to care as he pressed a slick kiss to each of your thighs before carefully helping you set your legs back down before helping you lay further back across the bed. “Yeah, still beautiful.”
With aftershocks still shaking your fingers, you pulled him up again, tasting yourself on his tongue when it slipped between your lips. “Still want you,” you murmured, unabashed.
“You’ll get me. You’ve got me.” Jake curled his body over yours as he took your mouth again. You greedily shoved at his boxer briefs and let out a sigh when you felt the length of him press against the meat of your inner thigh. “Condom?” He asked.
“Got a clear bill of health and just renewed my birth control prescr-” The rest of your explanation was cut short when he kissed you again and you felt him press at your entrance. The first push knocked the wind right out of your lungs. “O-oh!”
“God, you’re so warm.” His words were pulled taut and his knuckles were nearly white as they pressed into the blanket beneath you.
You pawed at his shoulders as he sunk further, further, further. God, he was so deep. “J-Jake!”
“Almost there, darlin’, you’re taking me so well.”
When his hips finally touched yours, each breath was ragged and short as you tried to breathe through the burn that came with his size. He was so deep. Jake pressed gentle kisses across your jaw, murmuring to take all the time you needed but you saw his arms shaking on either side of your head.
“Move,” you said.
“You sur-”
“Move!” You laughed, but it was quickly taken over by a broken moan with Jake’s first thrust. Every drag and pull of him had new sparks sizzling up your spine until you were nothing more than a heap of shaking limbs and heated skin. “Jake, please!” It was all you could say. What you were pleading for, you wouldn’t be able to articulate, but it didn’t matter because Jake seemed to know as his thrusts grew more forceful, pushing you further up the bed and dragging a hand down your leg to squeeze at the dough of your thigh and having it tighten around his hip so he could reach further into you. “Jake!”
“Give it to me, darlin’. C’mon. I know you can.” His whispered words were scalding against your ear and you let out a wail as he hit something deep inside you again again again again. The feeling only grew when his hands swept beneath you on the bed and hauled your hips higher as he drove into you. “Is that it? That where you need me?”
All you could do was moan and hang on as he continued to hit that spot you had never known existed. Your legs lifted, too, wrapping around his waist and that seemed to be the right thing to do as Jake slid one hand down to grab at one, widening you up to his thrusts—and with just a handful more snaps of his hips, you broke into a million little pieces of stardust.
**
With just a few more thrusts, Jake met his own end, shuddering above you. And you were glorious, beautiful, sated. He had never seen anyone look so wonderfully undone as you. Jake pushed up onto his knees and could only smile down at you before stealing a kiss against your mouth and then another and another until he got what he wanted: a soft laugh, breathy and satisfied, if he did say so himself. The simple sound had his already thundering heart leaping. Then you reached up and pushed a few errant strands of hair away from his forehead. The words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back—he wanted to tell you with flowers and something sweet, not when you could think he was just caught up in the endorphin rush.
“You’re impossible, you know,” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought.
“What?”
“You’re still so pretty after all that? Impossible.” You punctuated it with a soft tug at his hair before your hand swept to his cheek and your thumb smoothed an easy path on the half moon beneath his eye.
God. He could look at you forever. “If I’m pretty, then you’re-”
Your fingers pressed over his lips as you halfheartedly rolled your eyes. “You already got me in bed, Ken. Don’t need to butter me up.”
Jake kissed your fingers before pulling your hand away from his mouth and leaning down to steal another kiss. “I think you should be told how beautiful you are every day.”
Jake felt you freeze for a moment, rigid under his grip. “Sounds exhausting.”
“I’m up for the challenge.” He could have said it then, too. Almost did. Instead, he carefully pulled out and smirked at your moan with the movement. Jake swept a hand down your sternum to your belly before rolling off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He quickly found a washcloth and ran it under some hot water and wrung it out before walking back out.
God, you were beautiful. Still trying to catch your breath on the rumpled blankets (and if Jake felt a little zing of pride and seeing you so debauched, so be it), Jake slid next to you and carefully cleaned up the mess he’d made of you. He couldn’t stop touching you. Didn’t ever want to stop, but he did eventually pull away to drag his underwear back on and brushed his lips against your palm as you reached for him, curling your fingers around his cheek. But even with you still on his tongue and your body heart bleeding over him, he felt the first tendrils of doubt start to creep up the back of his mind.
Did you want him to stay? Did you regret it? Did-
“Will you stay?” You asked, voice much quieter than you had been all night. It reminded him of when you were surprised he had wanted to go to Junior’s engagement party. Maybe you were nervous, too.
“Of course I’ll stay, Punch.”
Your answering smile was near blinding and you wiggled around on the bed just enough to pull the blankets down to invite him under the sheets beside you—wow, you both really just fell onto the bed, absolutely no patience. After you washed up in the bathroom and turned off the rest of the lights, you slipped beneath the sheets too, eyes bright in the moonlight streaming from the small window.
He could look at you forever. He just had to tell you that. Some day.
**
Things were good and fun and wonderful. Jake took you to that Italian restaurant and then you danced in your little living room. You went out to the movies and laughed behind your bucket of popcorn when the horror movie victims lived up to their cliches. Jake would press smiling kisses to your mouth in good morning in the shadows of the hangar. But he was also fond of swallowing every sound you made while driving deep and holding you close and you got to find out what it felt like to have the weight of him on your tongue.
Yeah, things were good.
Things were good even when Detective White called to tell you that Luke might have been spotted back on the East Coast—at least he wasn’t still lurking somewhere in the shadows of San Diego, waiting for you. It was good because you only had about a week left on desk duty and Bradley and Natasha were still annoyingly in love and Bob had agreed to (eventually) meet the woman Jake said was “perfect” for him. Georgie had given birth to a healthy, happy baby boy and you had plans to visit in a few weeks’ time with Danny.
You may have still had those words waiting on your tongue, unspoken and waiting, but you knew they were going to spill out sooner or later, especially when Jake kissed you so sweetly. Everything was strangely easy with him and you knew it was a little too early to think of the future when it was so soon into whatever this was with Jake, but maybe it really could be this easy. There were short tiffs, of course, but it was good.
Things were good.
“Hey, darlin’. Can I talk to you for a moment?”
You looked up from the paperwork on your desk to see Jake standing in the door of your office. A joke was on the tip of your tongue when you spied the envelope in his hands. You knew what that envelope meant. You knew that look in his eyes. “How long?”
“Eight weeks.”
“Oh.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and set down your pen with unsteady fingers. “You leave next week, don’t you?” You already knew the answer—Admiral Simpson had been heard talking about it yesterday.
Jake set the envelope down as he rounded your desk and pulled you up and close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a slow kiss to your lips before standing straight again as his hands settled on your hips. “I don’t want-”
“You and I both know that the Navy doesn’t care what we want, Ken. You have to go. And I’m going to be waiting for you when you come back.” You tried to smile but you knew it looked more like a grimace. So, you tried a different tactic. “It’ll fly by.”
Jake pulled his lips into his mouth for a moment before sighing but you could tell he wanted to laugh. “That was a terrible pun.”
“I think you like me anyway.”
Jake smiled then, all softness and sweet. “Yeah, I think I’ll keep you around.” He pulled you close again and had you giggling the moment his lips touched your neck.
“You went on plenty of deployments before me and there will be deployments after-”
“Don’t say ‘after you,” Jake grumbled. “I don’t want there to be an after you.”
The words had your heart leaping. “I wasn’t going to say ‘after me,’ Ken. I was saying that after I’m cleared, you’ll have a few more with me. Okay? It is just this one.”
A small bright spot was knowing Javy, Callie, and Neil were also going with him. You and Jake tried to make the most of the week you had left before his deployment. There were quiet dinners in your small room and falling asleep in your bed as reruns of old sitcoms played on the television. There were quickies, too, of course, that always left your legs shaking and his come running down your thighs. But you still weren’t entirely sure what you were with Jake. He obviously wasn’t picking up women at the Hard Deck and spent most of his nights with you, slotting into place like he’d always meant to be there. But neither one of you had put a label on it. But you remembered Bradley’s scolding. You remembered that Jake himself had said that he knew you felt the way about him the same way he felt about you.
You tried and failed not to think about it too much as you walked with Jake through the muted crowds on the dock near the carrier. Dawn had just started to break on the horizon and your fingers brushed against Jake’s for the fifth time as you neared the ramp onto the hulking mass of steel. You only broke away to hug the others and wish them luck and safety before coming back to Jake’s side. There were too many eyes out here. Your relationship—no matter how undefined it was—was still unapproved and discouraged by Naval Regulation. There could be consequences if you kissed him goodbye now.
But you wanted to.
“You stay safe, okay?” You murmured as you turned to him.
“I’ll try my best, darlin’,” he said in return, grip tightening on his bag for a moment before letting loose again. Like he was fighting the urge to touch you, too.
The most you allowed yourself to do was hug him like you did the others while you blinked back the tears stinging your eyes. You should say it now. Say it. Say it. Say it. But wouldn’t that be cruel, to say it now when you couldn’t do more?
As you pulled back, it looked like Jake wanted to say something—his mouth opened and—
The carrier’s horn blasted and halted anything he might have said. You watched him shake his head before his hand fell to your shoulder. Only the careful swipe of his thumb against your pulse separated the touch from anything platonic. “I’ll be seeing you, Punch.” And then he was turning and walking away, a tightness in his shoulders you hadn’t seen since the hospital.
Something inside you cracked at the sight of it, growing larger with each step he took away from you. Every deployment could be dangerous. Hell, every time he got into the cockpit was dangerous. You could lose him.
And he wouldn’t…
“Jake!” You called out, his name bursting out from between your lips.
He turned back to you, brows pinching.
This was it. You didn’t want to hide. You would handle the consequences, no matter what they were. You needed to tell him. You pushed through the crowd and Jake dropped his bag at his feet and he reached for you just as you reached for him.
Your hands slid over his broad shoulders and up to cradle the back of his head as he curled his arms around your waist and hauled you close. You kissed him. You kissed him and didn’t care who saw as you felt him press at the seam of your lips and happily let him lead you through the unhurried but all consuming embrace; he had wanted this, too.
“Come back to me, okay?” You whispered against his mouth as you broke away, chest heaving. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” he said, voice strong despite the desperate look in his eyes. “I’m coming back to you. No matter what.”
“I love you, you know that?” There, you’d said it. For better or worse.
Jake’s smile started slow but soon lit up his entire face and he kissed you, pressing his lips to yours so intensely that you thought he might be trying to sear the touch into your marrow. “I love you, too. I have for a long time, I think.” And then he kissed you again and didn’t step back until the carrier let out another horn blast. “I’ve got to go but I will be back. I’ve gotta come back to my girl.”
You could only nod as he slowly walked backward toward the carrier, trying to keep you in his sight for as long as possible and taking your heart with him.
**
Jake hadn’t been expecting to be called into the Admiral’s temporary office before he had even put his duffel on his tiny bedroll, but here he was, standing in front of Admiral Simpson, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t what he was thinking it was.
You loved him. You loved him and he didn’t want to have it ruined by something as stupid as regulation.
Cyclone crossed his arms over his chest before sighing. “I should have you formally reprimanded and have her moved to a different squadron, if not an entirely different shore station. You and I both know that, Lieutenant Commander.” He was quiet and Jake felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He couldn’t lose you. Not now. “But I made Kazansky a promise. I promised to keep that young woman safe whenever she stepped foot on base. She is a remarkable AD and has proven herself to be an irreplaceable part of this team. The Daggers are better with her, and she is better with the Squadron.” He was quiet again and Jake tried not to feel too hopeful as the man continued. “I will require the necessary paperwork on my desk by 0700 the day after we are back stateside so I can pretend that you two went about this correctly and I won’t have someone with more stars on their collar trying to rip this squadron apart. Am I understood?”
“Understood, sir.” Jake didn’t even care that he was supposed to be on shore leave for two weeks after every deployment. He would get that paperwork to Cyclone an hour after docking if he had said so. Jake would happily do a thousand pushups before dinner and be grounded for a month if it meant that you didn’t have to hide, that you wouldn’t be separated because of protocol or paperwork.
Cyclone nodded. Just once. “Good. Dismissed.” If Jake sprinted out of Cyclone’s office, neither of them mentioned it. But the Lieutenant whom Jake would be sharing a bunk with definitely asked why he was smiling like a mad man when they finally crossed paths.
Jake didn’t care.
Come hell or high water, he was going back to you.
**
If Bradley asked if you were okay one more time, you were going to steal his lunch.
“I just worry about you!”
“Get away from me, Bradshaw. I swear to god-!” The rest of your rant was cut off by sweet Bob pulling you into a different classroom and handing you a water bottle.
“Drink this.”
You did as you were told and by the time the bottle was empty, you felt marginally less prone to lunch thievery. When you handed the bottle back to him, Bob sighed. He seemed to do that a lot lately and it had only been a week since Jake and the others had gone. “I’m bad at this, aren’t I?”
(The rest of the Daggers had been given a hard launch of you and Jake being together after Callie posted a photo to the group chat—it was supposed to be of her and Neil before they got on the carrier but you and Jake were clearly seen in the background kissing.
Not your finest moment but everyone seemed to be happy for you both and Admiral Bates chuckled after calling you into his office to tell you to fill out the required paperwork—how he found out was anyone’s guess but you were thankful that he was fine with it all. While the stack of red tape was a bit of a slog to get through, you finished it as quickly as you could despite being told that you’d have to wait to formally file it until Jake completed his, too. The stack of paper was kept safely in the bottom locked drawer of your desk, just waiting for Jake.)
“I’ve been told it gets easier,” Bob said with a small smile. “It’s only been a week, Punch. Give yourself time.”
You sighed and leaned just enough to press your forehead against his shoulder. Maybe tensions were high (with you in particular) because today was supposed to be your first day back in the hangar and…it rained so everyone was grounded until the weather cleared. “I mean, whenever you guys would get sent out I would worry, but this feels different. Is that stupid? Or am I just losing it?”
Bob sighed and you felt his hands start to press careful, patient lines up and down your back. “Not stupid and not losing it. But I think ‘s different when you care about the person leaving.”
“I care about you,” you muttered into his shirt.
“Not the same way and you know it.” His hands continued their careful touches and you relaxed a little more. God, whoever earned Bob’s love was going to be so lucky. “If I was a betting man, I would say Seresin is probably feeling the same way except he’s stuck in a tiny metal room.”
You laughed and a tiny bit of tension slipped from your shoulders. “Thank you, Robby. I promise to not throttle Bradley or steal his lunch.”
And now it was Bob’s turn to laugh. “Reasonable.”
The rest of the day didn’t exactly crawl by but you were still thankful to walk out to the parking lot by the end of the day, even if you knew you were still only going across base to watch more Golden Girls with a frozen meal. You’d get through this.
You knew it.
Just as you pulled into your usual spot outside your temporary home, your phone rang. Detective White’s name flashed across the screen and you sighed, bracing for no new news, before answering.
“Have you been to your house today?” He asked instead of a greeting.
“What?”
“We need you to come here, take a look at things.”
You were struck silent, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. “I…” What were you even supposed to say to that? “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The drive to your little bungalow was done in a haze, you didn’t even remember turning down your street or pulling into the driveway. Three patrol cars and a beat up Cadillac were parked along the curb, too. Two uniformed cops were waiting by your front door and checked your ID when you asked for Detective White before waving you inside.
Just for a moment, it did actually feel like coming home. This had been your home for almost two years and…
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”
The cruel echo of Luke’s voice had you flinching before the faded scent of bleach did. Your next breath stuttered in your throat as you glanced toward the bookcases and the floor beneath them. You had nearly died here. Nearly bled out in your home. It looked like all of your books had been placed in boxes, stacked at the mouth of the hallway.
You hardly saw any of it as your eyes were drawn to the broken glass that littered your kitchen floor and then the terrible deep, dark red paint splattered on the wall above your television.
COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE
“Good, you’re here.”
You jumped at the sound of Detective White’s voice and turned to face him with an unsteady smile. “I’m assuming you called to tell me about this?” You asked, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the crude paint job.
Detective White nodded. “Yeah.”
“I thought you said Luke was on the East Coast?” Keeping the angry disbelief out of your voice was a Herculean task—one that you failed, spectacularly, if the detective’s flinch was any indication.
He tapped his pen against his stupid pad of paper. “We had a tip that he was.”
“But nothing concrete? Have you stopped the search for him around here?”
“No, we still have the tip line open here, too.”
“Tip line,” you bit out. “But no one is looking? You’re just hoping that someone will spot him and you’ll be able to catch him this time?” Dragging a hand over your mouth, you tried to suck in a steadying breath that only marginally worked.
“We follow up on each one,” he said as if that would help.
“Sure. Of course you do. Is there a reason you needed me to come here?”
He then went on a spiel about you needing to look around to see if anything was missing or broken because there had been a series of break ins in the neighborhood and they just wanted to make sure that this was connected either to Luke or to the low level thieves before proceeding.
It took you about three and a half minutes to realize nothing was missing other than one of the knives from the block but you had a hunch that it was probably in an evidence bag, if the cops had found it at all. Your anger at the cops swiftly disintegrated into fear when you realized that it meant Luke was now back in the city. Or he had never left. Neither was a great option and you told Detective White what you thought and only earned another tap of his pen against his stupid fucking notebook.
You seethed as you stomped to your car and tried to pull in a soothing breath when you buckled yourself in. It didn’t work. But fine. You just needed to get back to base and slip beneath your room’s mostly soft blankets and pretend this didn’t happen for at least a few hours. Sure. You could do that.
But, just as you pulled onto the highway, your low gas light clicked on. Perfect, just perfect. There was a gas station just off the next off-ramp so you took it, hoping for a quick stop. But, of course, when you pulled up to the pump, there was a sticker over the card reader, stating that you’d have to pay inside. With a sigh, you locked your car and started toward the gas station. You made it two steps before coming to an abrupt stop when a bright red car screeched around you and came to a stop at the pump just beside your car. Whatever. Not your problem.
You heard the other car’s door open and close and then…
“Hi, baby.”
There was no way he was here. No way. No. Every hair stood on end and it took you a stretched moment to even muster the courage to turn to face him.
“Luke…” His name cracked in your throat as your heart hammered against your ribs. It only increased when you caught a flash of something in his hand, shining and terrible.
A gun.
You took a step back and then another and another as your eyes bounced around the parking lot, looking for someone, anyone to help you. And you saw no one, nothing except other empty cars.
“Don’t do this.”
Luke smiled, all teeth. “I’m having fun with it now, baby. I wonder how many times I can shoot you before you actually die? Maybe I should have gutted you, you know, see what you’re hiding inside you that keeps your heart beating.”
The more he spoke, the more you realized that he was drunk, every few syllables slurred and messy. Your next step nearly had you toppling over as your heel collided with the curb. Pain lanced up your palm as you blindly thrust your arm out to keep yourself upright by grabbing the concrete pillar. Luke took a step forward and raised the gun-
The lights of a car coming into the gas station pulled his attention for just a moment and you made the split second decision to dash into the gas station when his head was turned. You nearly bowled over another woman as soon as you were inside, the bell above the door screaming your arrival, and you quickly bit out an apology before yelling, “he’s got a gun! Please—call the cops!”
The man behind the register immediately pulled out his cell phone and you saw him dial 9-1-1 before your blood ran cold when you heard the bell chime again. All the air in the tiny shop was sucked out when the telltale sound of a gun’s hammer being pulled back filled the air. You knew if you looked behind you, you’d see Luke pointing a gun right at your head. Without sparing a look back, you dove down the nearest aisle, nearly bashing your head against a row of chips. You heard the shot tear through one of the freezer cases before the cacophony of screams and shouts of the other patrons rang out, too. Before you could even crawl behind another row of snacks or curl into a protective ball, the screech of the bell came again and the gas station was silent and still.
Instinctively, you knew he was gone again. In the wind.
You didn’t particularly remember the police arriving nor the “escort” down to the station. Giving your statement a handful of times felt robotic, detached. You didn’t react when the responding officers said Luke likely fled when he realized there were other people in the gas station. You barely flinched when Detective White came in and you saw him tap tap tap his pen on his notepad.
“It was Luke,” you muttered. “You can probably see it on the cameras.”
Your drive back to base hours later wasn’t exactly memorable and you sat on the small couch in the dark for a stretched moment until your phone rang. It felt like your arms had fallen asleep as you fumbled to get it out of your purse.
“Hi, sweetheart.” The sound of Sarah’s sweet voice immediately had you sobbing.
Unsurprisingly (but still embarrassingly), Sarah was in your little room within the hour and didn’t mind at all when you slouched into her lap as more Golden Girls reruns played on the television. Her soft fingers traced flowers and stars into your arm after your tears eventually ran out. She said nothing when you had told her what had happened other than a soft, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
**
Four weeks into the deployment, Jake was finally given allowance to make a video call to you—he had been told that he was allotted two calls every two weeks but so far he’d only been able to call his mom once. The entire deployment had been a clusterfuck. Jet malfunctions mixed with food past its expiration only added to the usual stress that came with a deployment of this scale. Having Javy, Omaha, and Halo with him was nice—Javy much more than the others, if Jake was being honest—but he still wanted you. He didn’t want to be away from you, especially not with how things were left when he had been called away. The fact that Luke still hadn’t been caught had bit at the back of his mind daily. He knew you were safe on base but…
The call rang twice before your pixelated face came into view and Jake felt something shift behind his ribs, like he was waiting to take another breath until he saw you again. “Hey, darlin’.”
“Hey, Ken.”
Jake’s spine went rigid at your tone. Even with the shitty connection, he heard how tired you were. “What’s going on?”
Your answering sigh crackled through the connection. “I’ll tell you when you get back, okay? How…how is everything going? Are you doing-”
Jake leaned a little closer to the tiny camera as if that would help you understand what he was saying. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that, not to me. You can talk to me, remember?”
You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment. “Fine. But first I need you to know that I’m safe, all right?”
Ice ran through Jake’s veins. No one should have to start a conversation with that. “Punch-”
“No one was hurt. I, um, I’m not really leaving base anymore—but I will be there to pick you up when you come back in. Luke seems skittish with crowds anyway. I’ll be safe there, too.”
“Just tell me what happened,” he said, voice a little harsher than he wanted and his anger dissolved when he saw you flinch. “Jesus, sorry. I wasn’t yelling-”
“I know,” you murmured. “I know you weren’t.” Another sigh pushed through you before you shook your head. “Luke found me at a gas station. He had a gun. He’s a lousy shot and took off when he realized there were other people around. Sarah and the Daggers are on a rotation; someone is with me all the time. Admiral Bates also had even more security put on each entrance to base, too, after I had to tell him what happened.”
Jake nodded, knowing that it was standard protocol to tell your commanding officer if something happened and the civilian authorities had to get involved. Knowing Admiral Bates was stepping up security was a small relief but Jake wondered how quickly he’d be court martialed if he just flew back to you.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said next.
“I wasn’t go-”
“Ken.”
He might have laughed if this were a different situation. Realizing you knew him well enough to pinpoint exactly when a thought as stupid as flying back to you was crossing his mind, if you would be able to call him an idiot to his face and say something about using his two remaining brain cells to only make moronic decisions, he might have laughed about it. But he couldn’t so he didn’t. “What can I do?”
You were quiet for a moment before the smallest hint of a smile pushed at your lips. “Can you tell me something funny?”
Jake didn’t have to rack his brain a lot to find something, but he hoped it could keep that smile on your face. “Well, I’m on this boat with another aviator, right?”
“I know how deployments work, Ken.”
“His callsign is Honey.”
“Don’t throw stones in glasshouses, Hangman.”
Jake almost smiled then, too, and continued on. “But his backseater’s name is Badger.”
The quiet laugh you let out would have to be enough for now—it seemed like that small sound was all you were capable of right now. But the tight line of your neck and shoulders unraveled. So, for the rest of his allotted time, he took every opportunity he had to make you laugh. Before he was kicked out of the little room, you made him promise to keep himself safe.
“I love you,” you whispered.
“Love you too.”
He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of saying it.
**
You waved to Bradley and Tasha as they stood like guard dogs near the entrance to the parking lot. They’d come with you without a grumble but they appreciated the pastry and coffee you brought them as a thank you anyway. God, you just wanted to set eyes on Jake again. These past few weeks had been so fucking weird. Not leaving base had been fine, mostly. Having a friend or Sarah with you every night was nice for the most part but you did always feel like you were interrupting their lives with your bullshit. But even without that, the threat you had always managed to ignore or push to the back of your mind was now front and center.
Luke wanted you dead, no matter the cost.
And you, no matter how cliche it was, felt like you had just started living.
People had started to trickle off the carrier’s ramp and you tried to shake off the nerves you'd been living with for weeks. This was supposed to be a good thing. You scanned the crowds and spotted Javy’s girlfriend, Hope, and Neil’s parents beside Callie’s wife, and then you had to squint at the next group you spotted. Green eyes. Blonde hair. All of them. You knew them, didn’t you?
They seemed to spot you, too, and quickly turned course toward you. And then it dawned on you.
Oh god.
This wasn’t how you wanted to meet Jake’s mother and sister.
Sandra was leading the charge with one of her daughters behind her. There was no mistaking it now, they were headed right toward you.
“Hi there!” A delightful Texan twang hit your ears over the excited din of the crowds and you hoped your answering smile didn’t betray how nervous you were as you held out your hand for her to shake.
“I’m-”
“Punch!” Sandra finished for you before she threw her arms around you in a tight hug. And there was little fight in you to do anything but reciprocate. She rubbed your back for a moment then stepped back, holding you at arms length with that same warm smile on her face. “Oh, I am so happy to meet you, officially.”
“It is wonderful to officially meet you, too. I’m sure Jake will be so happy to see you both.”
Sandra laughed with a shake of her head as she dropped her hold. “We will probably just be an added bonus—you’ll be the star of the show, I’m sure.”
A surprised chuckle escaped you, a little strangled. What exactly did they know about you? What had Jake said? “Agree to disagree.”
Sandra was quick to introduce Mia, who also gave you a quick hug. “Kelly and Alex weren’t able to take off work but they’ll probably demand to FaceTime later.”
“I didn’t know you all were coming! Did you have trouble finding the port?” You asked, feeling a bit like you were intruding.
“Oh, not at all. And don’t you worry about us stealing too much of your time with Jacob,” Sandra said with a wink.
It immediately made your stomach twist. Oh god. This was embarrassing. “N-no, I, um-”
“You’re killing her, mama. Let her breathe,” Mia said with a smile. “Jacob probably still hasn’t grown a pair and said-”
“Mia!” Sandra scolded. “Language!”
Both you and Mia snorted (Mia more so than you) before her mother huffed and shook her head. “But she’s right. We’re just in town for a few hours and then heading up the coast to a cattle auction. We figured we could see him for a bit, we hope you don’t mind.”
You shook your head, chest warming at learning how adorably close Jake was to his family. “Of course not. I know he’ll be happy to see y-” Your words cut off in a scream as familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind and hauled you into the air for a moment as you were spun in a circle. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you turned and poked at Jake’s chest. “Don’t do that! You-” His lips on yours quickly stifled any halfhearted argument you may have had, too. At least for a moment. When he pulled back, a familiar smirk on his face, you were quick to say, “that's so rude. You can’t just kiss me-”
He kissed you again and probably would have continued if someone hadn’t cleared their throat behind you.
“Please tell me my mother isn’t here.” His words vibrated against your smiling mouth as he stood stock-still with you still in his arms. Oh, this was hilarious.
“I don’t think the Jurassic Park Tyrannosaurus Rex rules apply to your mom, Ken. She can definitely see us.”
**
“Yes, she can see you,” his mother said, a laugh muddling her words.
Jake gave you one last kiss before stepping back and hugging his mother, trying to will the intense blush he felt blotting his cheeks away. He really hadn’t been expecting them—he had only had eyes for you as soon as his boots hit solid ground. And the fact that he hadn’t slept properly for eight weeks might have muddled his thought process anyway.
“Surprise!” Mia exclaimed.
He was quick to hug her, too, happy to see her smiling in person again. After his mom explained that they were only in town for a few hours, you suggested getting a bite to eat at one of the diners down the road. That worked for everyone and Jake started to herd the small group of women toward the parking lot, only pausing when he saw you stop to speak in low tones with Phoenix and Rooster. It seemed the pair needed a bit of reassurance to let you leave their line of sight but Phoenix eventually poked Rooster’s side with enough force to have him relent. Jake raised a hand in thanks to them before you rejoined his little group and he let you lead him to your car as you gave directions to the diner to his mother. The ride was short, thankfully, but he was happy just to feel the warmth of your thigh beneath his hand as you drove.
The hostess was quick to seat them when they arrived and his mother made sure to shove Jake onto the same side of the booth as you with a wink that had another blush inching its way up his face. She’d never been subtle.
“Well,” his mother started with a smile as her gaze moved between you and Jake after you all had ordered, “it seems like we may have been left uninformed about a few things.”
“It’s…new,” Jake said, feeling like he did when he was twelve and had been caught with his hand in the literal cookie jar.
“It doesn’t seem new.”
Jake kicked his sister beneath the table and earned a boot to his knee in return. She hadn’t even flinched. “What does that even mean?”
“It means that you guys seem settled, happy.” Mia paused, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk behind her hand. “Like an old married couple.”
Jake felt your eyes on him and it did little to deter that thought of you in a white dress and a smile on your lips walking toward him. Married. Jake knew he had thought of you in that way for months before he even knew what it was like to kiss you, but to hear someone like Mia say it? It felt like…
“Either way, we’re happy to see you both so happy,” Mia said with a wink, giving him an out. “And now we get to finally learn all about you. Jake was pretty sparse in the details he gave about you. Other than your ability to keep him on his toes and the way your eyes seemed to stare straight through him.”
His face was on fire now and the temperature only grew when he heard your laugh. “Straight through you, huh? What else has he said?”
“Nothing. I’ve said nothing.”
You patted Jake’s leg with a laugh. “Let the women talk, Jacob. You can try and fail to tell me that you didn’t say any of it later.”
The food arrived by the time Jake’s ears were burning and you were laughing like old friends with his sister and mother. He couldn’t help but laugh, too, at a few of the stories they told about him.
“Oh, but enough about Jacob,” his mother said, “tell us more about you. What do you do when you’re not keeping him safe at work?”
You smiled around the straw to your strawberry shake. “I’ve had some time on my hands lately, so I’m trying to write a book.”
“You write?” Mia asked, setting her fork down to give you her attention. “What do you write?”
Jake couldn’t resist teasing his sister and his tired brain forgot a key piece of information when he opened his mouth next. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. You’ve read her books, I gave them to you, remember?”
The silence that followed swallowed the table.
It took two stretched moments for Jake to realize what he had revealed and it washed over him like a wave of cold salt water. “Oh shit.”
You leaned forward to set your head into your hands for a moment before sighing. “Did you knock something loose when you were in the air, Ken?”
“I’m sorry!”
“You’re Georgia Torrance?”
You nodded as you sat back with a small, uneasy smile. “I am. I hope you liked the books.”
“She loves those books! She and her girls talk about them all the time!”
It was Mia’s turn to blush. “Thanks for that, mama,” She grumbled. Mia fiddled with her fork for a moment before her shoulders slumped. “Please tell me my brother hasn’t inspired your books. I’ll never be able to read them again if he did,” she said, only half joking if the strained chuckle she let out was any indication.
Jake hadn’t thought about that. Where did you find inspiration? While it may be a bit of a stroke to his ego if you did see him as a book worthy romantic lead, he could understand why his sister would never want to read them again. He watched you smile and set your hand over Mia’s across the table.
You leaned closer with a glint in your eye that told him whatever came out of your mouth next was probably going to leave him fighting for his life in front of his family. “He wishes.” And then you winked as Mia giggled. As his sister’s giggles petered out, your smile grew, but maybe a little less sharp at the edges. “I just wrote about what I wanted most in the world at the time. Someone gentle and strong and understanding.”
“And they’re gorgeous.”
“Oh, of course. I mean, not everyone is going to think all of my leads are their cup of tea, but if someone finds a bit of joy in my book, I think that’s just as good. I wrote most of them when I was at my loneliest, but I think the stuff I’m working on now is just as good. I hope you still like it.”
Mia’s smile grew and Jake watched her set her other hand over yours. “I’m sure I’m going to love it.”
“We could talk about it later, if you want? I’d love to get your input.”
“I’d love that. Really.”
The rest of the meal flew by and you earned a motherly frown from his mom when you managed to pay for everyone’s meal without them noticing just as they noted it was time for them to hit the road again. You and Mia walked ahead out to the parking lot, exchanging numbers and giggling about something he didn’t hear—but the sight of two of his favorite people getting along made Jake smile, too.
His mom grasped at his arm and pulled him to a top with a gentle look he knew well. Jake was about to be told something she thought he should know already. “She’s wonderful, Jacob. And you’re so happy with her.”
“I am happy, mama.” And he was. He hoped you were, too.
She reached up and gently patted his cheek. “You let me know when you want Gram’s ring.” Then, after kissing his cheek and reminding him to still call on Sunday, she said she loved him and she and Mia were gone.
And, really, who could blame Jake for thinking about the antique diamond and white gold ring on your finger? No one.
“They’re nice,” you said as you climbed back into your car a few minutes later. “I might like them more than you.”
Jake groaned, letting his hand find its usual spot on your thigh as you pulled out of the lot. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dumped for my sister or mom. That would be a first.” He then squeezed your thigh for a moment, earning a squeal.
You halfheartedly slapped at his hand as you pulled out onto the road, heading back toward base. He watched you bite your lip for a stretched second. “We would have to be together for me to dump you.”
What were you talking about? “Do you…”
“Look,” you cleared your throat, “I know we don’t have to put a label on things, but I’d like to know where we…stand. Together.” You then steadfastly refused to look at him as you took another turn.
And, really, Jake couldn’t really comprehend what he had just heard. “Punch, I was under the impression that we were together since you asked me to dinner at the hospital.”
You were quiet for a moment before letting out a soft, “oh.”
So, Jake continued, knowing he needed to lay all his cards on the table. “There is no one else I would do all that paperwork for, you know. I am all in. I’ve been all in with you since before I knew that you snore in your sleep.”
“I do not snore!”
“Yes, you do,” Jake said with a laugh. “But I am happy to hear it. All the time. Whatever you want, I want, as long as it is with you. You’re my girl.” This felt just as important as telling you that he loved you.
“And if I want the whole nine yards? Marriage, babies, a home?” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “For a long time, I didn’t think I could get any of that, deserve any of that.”
When you rolled to a stop at a red light, Jake reached out to tip your face in his direction. He wanted to make sure you knew he meant every word. “You deserve it. You do, all of that and more. And I would be honored to be the one to make sure you get it. I love you, darlin’. And I want everything with you.”
**
It was good to have Jake back for several reasons. One of them was that he took over all the “guard dog” duties (as he called them) at night so your other friends could get back to their normal lives. And you would never mind waking up to him on the pillow beside yours in the morning.
Knowing that you were on the same page with everything and this relationship was just…perfect. Something wonderful to focus on instead of knowing Luke was still out there.
Your name being called pulled you away from Natasha and Bob’s jet and you wiped your hands on the rag you kept in your jumpsuit’s pocket as you turned to look at Admiral Simpson a few paces away. “Sir?”
“I need you in my office. Now.” His mouth was set in a firm line with his hands on his hips. That was never a good sign.
A few of the other ADs looked at you as you followed the man out of the hangar and you tried to smile reassuringly at them, despite not knowing just what the hell was happening as you followed him all the way to his office. The grim look on his face didn’t budge even when Jake walked in a few moments later.
“Good. You’re both here.” He turned to grab paperwork from his desk. “I don’t want to be having this conversation. I want you both to know that.”
The rest of what he was saying was little more than a dull ringing in your ears as you realized what he was holding, what that paperwork meant. Something cold ran down your spine when you read one of the names signed at the bottom. You immediately recognized it. It was one of the big brass people who went golfing with Luke’s dad. It felt like the world had been taken out from under your feet and you were falling falling falling with no hope for a soft landing.
“We went about this the right way,” Jake argued, voice cutting through the sudden fog that had permeated your senses. “We filed the paperwork, we-”
“This comes from someone higher up than me, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Well, then what is going to happen?”
Admiral Simpson sighed and your heart dropped when his eyes landed on you. “The easiest route would be to have one of you reassigned.”
You knew it would be you. You were outranked and easily replaceable, all things considered. It would be you. And that was what Luke had wanted to do: to rip your home away from you, to leave you alone in the world again. But you just…
“No.”
“No.”
You looked at Jake and saw him already looking at you when you had spoken in unison.
“There are protocols that need to be followed. If it was up to me, this wouldn’t be an issue. Both of you have proven to be professional while on the flight line. But it is out of my hands. I don’t have a choice.”
“But I do,” you argued, turning to look at him. You rolled your shoulders back, wanting to stand as tall as you could with what you said next. “Please consider this my official acknowledgement that I will not be reenlisting at the end of my contract.”
“Punch!” Jake’s shout only strengthened your resolve.
“You do not have to make this decision now.”
“I do. I…I made a family here. I’m not going to lose it by being transferred to a different shore station.”
Jake whispered your name but you couldn’t look at him now. Not just yet. Not when you had all but set everything in stone.
“Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” Simpson asked, a surprising softness to his tone.
“I am. You can tell your superiors that this situation will be wrapped up in a neat little bow in a few weeks’ time.” You could feel both Jake and Admiral Simpson’s gazes pushing into you as you took a moment to glance down at your boots, trying to keep the resolve you had felt only a few seconds before.
Simpson was the one to break the silence. “I’ll get the paperwork started for you. I’ll have it on your desk by lunch tomorrow.” He paused and you looked up at him to see his mouth set in a sharp downturn. He shook his head before extending a hand out to you and you took it with a small smile. “It was a pleasure serving with you,” he said, making sure to enunciate your name and rank, too. You saluted him as he stepped back and then excused himself after a pointed look at Jake, leaving you alone.
“Punch…what are you doing?” Jake’s voice was soft but you could hear the tension hiding behind each syllable.
“I had to. I am not going to let Luke take this away from me. I have friends here, my best friends. I have made a family here. I…I have you here. I’m not going to let this all go. I won’t.”
Jake was quiet for a moment, sea glass eyes searching your face. But then a small smile pushed at his lips. “All in?”
“All in.”
And when he kissed you, you could feel his smile against your own. This was good, the start of something new.
**
Jake knew that the Daggers would take you leaving like a blow to the chest. When you asked them all to come to the Hard Deck, a place you felt safe in, a little before opening the following Saturday after your discharge papers were filed, there had been yelling and finger pointing and then tears.
Bradshaw had been the one to pull Jake aside when you were distracted by Harvard and Yale trying to get you to apply for one of the civilian contractor positions on base so you’d never be “too far away.”
“This is about Luke, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Yeah. Punch thinks his dad called in a favor with his buddies and had had our paperwork pulled. God knows what he said to his dad to make him think this would help, but-”
“I’ll kill him,” Rooster said through gritted teeth.
“Which one?” Jake asked, not laughing.
“Doesn’t matter. Both of them deserve it.”
The group eventually turned into an impromptu goodbye party for you as the bar opened, despite you still having a few weeks left of your contract. Drinks were bought and shared and Jake noticed how you smiled through it all.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked quietly as he twirled you beneath his arm.
“It is,” you said with a soft pat to his chest. “I told you I wasn’t a lifer. Sure, this wasn’t exactly how I pictured getting out, but…I think I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” he murmured before reaching up to carefully hold your face.
The night continued and Jake bought a round for everyone after Javy announced that Hope had accepted his proposal. Hope showed off the gorgeous ring (which Jake helped pick out) to almost everyone with a bright smile and then Javy asked Jake to be his best man while you were pulled away by Bob and Phoenix for something. By the time Javy had told Jake the entire proposal story and Jake had already started a mental list of possibilities for his bachelor party, you had disappeared from view.
Jake was not entirely too proud to realize he started to panic when he didn’t immediately find you in the steadily growing crowd, but his heart settled when he spotted you on the back deck. You and Phoenix were talking out on the deck, dying sunlight painting both of you with a golden light. You were rolling your water bottle between your palms while Phoenix stared out toward the waves.
You were telling her about Luke. You were telling her everything. He could tell by the way you held yourself, back straight and uncomfortably rigid, only relaxing when Phoenix reached out to lace her fingers with yours.
“You’ll be good to her, won’t you?”
Jake turned to see Bob and Rooster both looking at him. Jake might have laughed if he didn’t see the sincere looks on their faces.
“I will. And she’s doing this so she can still be near you guys, it isn’t like she’s being sent across the country.”
Bob looked at Rooster, some silent communication passing between them before Rooster nodded. “Still, be good to her.”
“I plan to, for the rest of my life.” And he meant it.
The rest of the night passed with you beneath his arm, smiling and laughing with your friends. It loosened something tight in Jake’s chest each time he heard your laugh. You were going to be okay.
By the time midnight rolled around, the party had quieted a bit, Jake pulled you out to walk a little ways down onto a quieter stretch of the beach in front of a restaurant that had closed for the night, so you could watch the waves again, making you elbow him when he said it was “romantic because it was like our first date again.”
“You’re a sap.”
“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”
You hummed, a happy noise, and turned to rest the point of your chin on his chest as you wound your arms around his waist. “Yes, I know. You have a reputation to uphold.” But you still stood there with him and watched the waves until you shivered, the night air coming off the sea cutting through your thin dress.
“Ready to head home?” His hands traced slow circles into the low of your back, earning a soft sigh in return. You were content. Happy. That’s what he wanted for you.
“Yeah,” you murmured.
The yawn you let out next only made Jake smile. “Yeah, let’s get you tucked in.”
“You gonna rock me to sleep?” You asked with a lazy wink as you started to walk toward the parking lot.
Jake groaned only so he wouldn’t have to admit that the line worked on him. “Awful. Truly awful.”
You only laughed. “C’mon, Ken. Let’s go.”
He let you guide him up the bank to the restaurant's empty parking lot—he really did love watching your hips sway with each step. Just as you both stepped onto the asphalt, you froze and Jake didn’t realize you had stopped until he bumped into your back. “What is it?” Jake asked, looking up and trying to find what you were seeing but his blood ran cold when he spotted it. Spotted him.
It was Luke, lurking like a beast in the shadows of the lot’s street lamp.
**
“Get behind me,” Jake said, already pushing you to his back.
“Jake!”
“Come out and fight me! What, you have to wait until she’s alone again?”
You wrapped a hand over Jake’s arm as blood roared in your ears. You needed to leave. Now. You didn’t want Jake to get hurt, you wouldn’t allow it. “Jake-”
But Jake gently shook out of your grip and took a few steps toward Luke. “I’m here now, what’re you gonna do, huh? She’s not alone now—but that’s never stopped you from failing on doing anything worthwhile. You really are the biggest fuck up I’ve ever heard of.”
You knew what he was doing, goading Luke into attacking first so there could be plausible deniability. Jake wouldn’t be the aggressor if anyone asked. But still, you just wanted to leave. To leave and never see Luke again. You swallowed hard and moved to stand at his back again, hand tightening on Jake’s arm, ready to run. “Jake, c’mon.”
“How many times are you going to try to kill her, man? How many chances do you need to actually do something? Don’t you think it’s a little pathetic that you can’t do anything right the first time? And when you can’t, you need your father to come in and clean up your messes.”
Luke gritted his teeth, shining in the moonlight. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and muscle memory had you wanting to run. Hide. Or try to calm him down. But you couldn’t, not now.
“Shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know shit.”
“I know that you beat a woman for doing your job better than you because you liked the bottle more than keeping your pilot alive.”
“I was good at my job!”
Jake laughed, low and rumbling. “And you’re a shit liar, too. You don’t even believe that.”
And that was enough. Luke charged at Jake and you tugged you both out of the way, watching in muted horror as Luke pulled a knife from his pocket and swung blindly. When he swung again with a shout, you shoved Jake to the side and managed to step back just enough to only feel the air rush by your neck.
Jake stumbled and you saw his eyes go wide before he pivoted and threw himself forward, catching Luke around the waist and tackling him to the pavement. He reared back just enough to haul his arm up and landed a blow to Luke’s face. But Luke was not finished either. His head snapped to the side only for a moment before you saw the knife still in his hand.
“Jake!” was all you could scream. Not him. Not your Jake. He couldn’t take him from you.
But you weren’t fast enough. The moonlight caught the blade just before it arced across Jake’s chest as Luke threw his entire weight behind the move, shifting them both to the side. Blood bloomed and soaked through Jake’s shirt as he let out a sharp yell before he wrenched backward, away from Luke who was slowly sitting up, poised to try again.
You dove for them and your knees slammed against the pavement, skidding into Jake’s thighs. Your shaking hands wrapped around Luke’s hand and slammed and slammed and slammed it into the pavement until his grip on the knife loosened and you wrenched it away with a guttural scream of your own.
Luke ripped his hand from yours just enough to backhand you. Pain rippled across your face as white spots danced in front of your eyes for a moment but you hardly had time to recover before a punch left you gasping for air—Luke snarled something, drool gathering at the sides of his lips, but you hardly heard it over the ringing in your ears.
And then you were shoved backward, your spine flattening against the pavement with a muted shout of your own. Luke pushed himself up onto his feet, looming over you for a moment, cloaked in shadow. But you couldn’t be scared. Not now. You kicked, your heel connecting with his crotch, and sent him to his knees again.
“You bitch!” He seethed. “You-”
The rest of his threat was cut off as Jake’s arm wrapped around his throat, you hadn’t even realized he had moved. Luke reached up to claw at Jake’s skin but he didn’t falter, even as he thrashed in his grip.
Heaving yourself back onto your feet, you watched Luke’s face get steadily redder and his attempts to get out of Jake’s hold grew more sluggish by the moment. A small bit of you liked it, liked seeing the man who had tried to ruin your life and murder you over and over again be so utterly helpless. You looked at Jake to see him looking at you, silently asking for you to tell him what you wanted.
So, you said nothing. Nothing until Luke’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went entirely limp. Jake let go of him after you nodded and you almost laughed as you watched Luke’s face bounce on the pavement just as red and blue lights started to bleed across the street. You weren’t surprised someone had called the cops, maybe they’d do something worthwhile this time.
Jake reached out for you as the sirens grew louder and you happily set your hand in his before carefully pressing your lips to his. “Thank you,” you whispered.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
By the time the paramedic had cleaned the thankfully shallow slash on Jake’s chest, Luke was being read his Miranda Rights and you had given your statement to the responding cops.
You watched Luke get shoved into the back of the cop car; one of the cops actually pushed his head down with a palm on the back of his neck like a disobedient puppy.
When Jake stepped in front of you and gently cradled your face, you sagged into his grip, all the remaining fight and tension bleeding out of you in a moment. “It’s done,” was all you could say.
“You finished it,” he said softly.
“We did. And I…” The words stalled on your tongue. “What happens now?”
Jake shook his head before pulling you close to press a kiss to your forehead, your temple, then your lips. “I don’t know, darlin’. But we’ll figure it out together.”
**
The dance was slow and easy, you and Jake simply swayed to the beat as other couples moved around you.
“How are you tonight, Mrs. Seresin?”
You laughed with a shake of your head. He called you that more than your name, more than “Punch,” more than anything else. It had been five years since you’d surprised all your friends and family at your Ugly Holiday Sweater Party that it was actually your wedding and he still didn’t get tired of calling you Mrs. Seresin. But you didn’t think you’d ever tire of hearing it, either. “I’m fine, Captain Seresin.”
His pleased smirk grew and he pulled you a little closer. Well, as close as your bump would allow. Just for a moment, he let go of your hip to smooth a hand over the silk of your gown stretched across your growing bump before resuming your dance.
Your fingers inched up his shoulder to push into the hair at the back of his head, ruining his carefully coiffed style. He was so handsome in his dress whites. The tinge of grey starting to grow at his temples only added to his enduring appeal—and he was all yours. “Your speech was wonderful,” you added with a smile.
He chuckled and shook his head, glancing at another dancing couple beside you. Bradley and Natasha were in their own bubble; it was to be expected at their wedding reception. But you did get a chuckle out of Natasha stealing her husband’s dress white’s hat and wearing it atop her carefully styled hair. To be fair, it did match her gown, too. Their son, welcomed two years ago with the help of a surrogate so both parents could keep flying up until they took their parental time off, was happily eating cake in Bob’s lap at a table in the corner. Bob’s wife was making a valiant effort to keep crumbs off Bob’s dress trousers while Pete kept a napkin beneath the toddler’s chin in an attempt to help. Today had been beautiful and perfect, exactly what you wanted for your best friends’ wedding.
“Thank you for looking it over for me.” He leaned down to brush his mouth against yours and you could feel his smile.
It had been a blissful five years. You may have been a bit of a naval cliche, getting married within a few months of really dating but it worked for you. You were happy. Getting out of the Navy allowed you more time to write. Your publisher was nearly ecstatic with the increase in productivity and offered you a new royalties deal. While it still wasn’t Stephen King money—and you knew you’d never reach that level—you were proud of it.
Jake had made sure the house he bought on the coast had an office for each of you and he happily helped you paint it a soft green that you swore helped you write. When you offhandedly mentioned that it reminded you of his eyes, he fucked you bent over the pricey cherry wood desk he’d bought for you after your latest book hit the best seller’s list. If your math was correct (it was), that was when your first child was conceived. Little Elsie came screaming into the world a few months later and immediately had Jake wrapped around her tiny fingers. She was currently being babysat (aka spoiled) by Grammy Sandy while you and Jake took the weekend for Bradley and Natasha’s wedding—you were a bridesmaid and Jake a groomsman, so you had quite a few things to take care of. The house was filled with pictures of quiet moments you cherished, like Elsie asleep on Jake’s chest a few weeks after she was born, and then more rambunctious moments, too, like the last Halloween party you attended where you were dressed as Ken and Jake was your Barbie. Apparently Jake looked good in everything, including hot pink. Pictures of the Daggers and their families were hung up beside pictures of Danny at his first lecture after earning his PhD and Georgie with her husband with her little boy on her hip. A picture of you and Jake surrounding Mia at her wedding a few months ago was on the mantle above the fireplace beside a picture of you and Lily with Sarah, Junior, and Taylor at Junior’s wedding, too.
Luke had been sent away for a few decades after pleading guilty to attempted murder and aggravated stalking. You doubted he would ever be a threat to you again but you and Jake had both been granted restraining orders against him, too. From what you had heard from the grapevine (Beau mentioned it in passing with a knowing smile), Luke’s father quietly retired from his position in the Navy before the trial and all of the relationships he had cultivated over the decades of his service crumbled when they’d learned of how he had paid for your silence. The ordeal had been exhausting and had left you reeling day after day when you needed to relive all of it while on the stand. But you had a support system. You had the Daggers, your siblings, the Kazanskys, your in-laws, and Jake. Your Ken. He never left your side.
“Is my son giving you any trouble tonight?” It was a recurring question since he learned you were pregnant again. Elsie had given you a few scares in utero and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable.
“He’s on his best behavior.”
“Good.” Jake stole another kiss and then you stole one right back.
It wasn’t always perfect. No relationship was. You still had to deal with deployments and growing pains that came with expanding your family, and the infrequent disagreements that arose. But it was good. It was worth fighting for. Jake had given you a home that could never be taken from you.
“I love you,” you whispered after he spun you under his arm.
“I love you more.”
A/N: that’s all she wrote, folks! thank you so much for going along on this ride with me. I hope you enjoyed Xx
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