GIVE ME ALL THE ANGST!!!

22/04/23: GOD, THIS STORY IS JUST SO WONDERFUL!!! i binged through the whole thing this morning and my brain can’t focus on anything else. i have so favorite many parts i wanna properly highlight later but “You stay on my left, and I’ll stay on your right.” REALLY GOT ME!!!

the dynamic between joel and reader is too good to be true, you’re building something wonderful here. i love their interactions so much and the interactions they have with the other characters, like ellie and tommy <3

“Fix her leaky tap my ass,” Tommy muttered, earning him a grunt from Joel.”

and i also love that you made her stand her ground!!! NO DAMSELS IN DISTRESS HERE!!! although there will be a lot of distress to come apparently jefhhshddh

everyone is so in character it’s truly insane like THIS IS ALL CANON TO ME NOW IDC, your attention to detail and their mannerisms and the way the TALK TO EACH OTHER just makes sense and it clicks and it’s perfect.

i send you an anon talking about how much i’m loving the story but it wasn’t enough i need to run my mouth a bit more!!!

reader’s backstory and what we know about her so far, her relationship with cal and everything just brings so much more depth to her and how she is able to connect with joel and WHY THE FIT!!! it’s so well written (as is everything you’re writing) and i think it just makes her such a memorable character.

“Walk of shame,” Cal crooned lovingly from the kitchen table when you returned home. You flicked him off with a laugh, hanging up your coat. “Seriously, do you even live here anymore?” THIS BROUGHT SUCH A STUPID SMILE TO ME LIFE!!!

i’m also fucking loving the SUBPLOT THAT’S HAPPENING I SEE YOU!!! the moment you said the new guy was from “CAN-” i already started to 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 and yeah. i don’t trust him. people are going missing. i love the tension it’s bringing to the story and to the scenery that is jackson, because in most fics i’ve been reading it’s almost like a safe haven (which i get and it fits if a story is like that) but i just love your twist on it!!! and i’m so excited to see where it leads everything.

in summary: this is definitely one of the best joel fics i’ve ever read (and just one of the best fics in general) and i’m be so so so excited for the next chapters!!!

under the night | part four

summary: joel can't always be in control

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I

warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, sex, angst, jealousy, immature/possessive!joel, canon typical violence [infected feature], violence, injury/blood, vomit, hurt/comfort, and so on and so forth

word count: 9k

a/n: teeing things up for the bigger story arc here, and i'd like to clarify this is not a damsel in distress story lol you'll see

part three

The patrolmen in Jackson were dedicated. Every morning, on a rotational basis, a group of them ventured out past the gates of the settlement and explored set routes. They took down infected; they searched for essential items like soaps and medicines; but most all, they kept the town safe. Admittedly, when you first heard them called patrolmen you’d rolled your eyes, knowing damn well there were multiple women doing the job. But Tommy had just shrugged amiably, assuring you that those women weren’t bothered with the title.

That morning in particular, Joel and Tommy were scheduled to do a routine sweep of what they called the “south patrol”. Joel had never complained about how quickly he fell into the job upon his arrival in Jackson. It made sense to Tommy and Maria that he would join the team, considering the vast experience and knowledge he’d acquired in his year roaming cross country with Ellie. Never once had he begrudged his brother for being given a job and a place to live, and a warm home to sleep in.

Until, that is, he had to leave you in his bed for the sake of a fucking patrol.

“Fuck Tommy,” Joel grumbled into your neck. You laughed sleepily, pushing him off you.

“Get out of here, Joel,” you mumbled unconvincingly, rolling over to shove your head back into the pillows. It was earlier than you would’ve chosen to wake up, but you knew there was no hope of drifting back to sleep with the way the sun shone through his large bedroom window.  With a huff, he was getting out of bed, and you listened drowsily to the sound of the shower running, and then to the rustling of him pulling his clothes on.

When a silence settled over the room, you risked opening your eyes a crack, only to see Joel watching you from the doorway.  He stared forlornly, his eyes raking over your naked torso before you yanked the blanket back up to cover yourself.

“You’re makin’ this real hard for me you know,” he said, his forearm propped up against the doorframe. 

You cracked a smile, and let your eyes shut slowly, listening to the sounds of his boots padding softly down the stairs.

A week had passed since your first night together, and it was true that you and Joel struggled to spend more than one consecutive night apart. Laying in his bed, surrounded by the smell of him, you remembered the day after like you were experiencing the moment all over again.

The knock at your front door had come after 10pm, and you’d startled at the sound, wondering who would be bothering you so late. Cal had been out at Louisa’s, so you’d tentatively walked over to the door, opening it just a crack to glance out, and then tugging it open swiftly upon seeing Joel standing on your doorstep. 

“Hey there,” he’d offered a tense smile, eyes flicking down to your feet and then back up to hold your gaze.

You gripped Joel’s pillows and remembered the way he’d stepped inside your home, asking if you were alone.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. About the way you sounded… the way you felt. Can’t get you out of my damn head.”

You were drunk on each other, on the intimacy. Both enveloped in these new and devastatingly consuming feelings for one another that you were finally able to express. In the entire week, you’d only spent one night away from one another, because you had stood your ground and admitted you needed to spend some time with Cal.

From Joel’s bed, you listened to the sounds of Ellie messing around downstairs in the kitchen, no doubt trying to make herself something edible for breakfast. After the teenager had caught you leaving the house, you had been shy around her. You didn’t want your relationship to change because things with Joel had. Although Ellie had seemed enthused by the progression, you feared the dynamic would shift between you, so you tried to remain stealthy with your comings and goings from their home.

When you were sure the younger girl had left the house, you took your time with showering, and dressing for the day.

“Walk of shame,” Cal crooned lovingly from the kitchen table when you returned home. You flicked him off with a laugh, hanging up your coat. “Seriously, do you even live here anymore?”

“Fuck off, man,” you rolled your eyes, settling down in the chair opposite him. You accepted a mug of coffee with a grateful nod, and brought the liquid gold to your lips.

He chuckled quietly, pushing his bowl of oats towards you as a peace offering. You stole his spoon and cleared the rest of the food in minutes.

“How are you though?” he asked after a while, his eyes soft and genuine. You admired him, and the way his blonde hair was getting longer, flopping down over his eyes.

“I’m good, Cal,” you assured.

“You look happy,” he squinted at you, the teasing lilt returning to his voice. “You’ve got the glow of someone who’s finally made some fucking friends.”

“Took a leaf out of your book,” you winked.

Your heart felt full. For so many years, you and Cal had been one another’s salvation. You’d relied on each other for survival, for companionship, but amongst it all, there had been stretches of time so dire that you didn’t laugh for weeks at a time. To be sat with him, in your home, somewhere safe like Jackson, and laughing together… even after so many months there, it still struck you sometimes how lucky you were.

It was a few hours later, when you ventured toward the stables to check in on Dot, that you bumped into Tommy and Joel returning from patrol.

The brothers were putting away their saddles when you pushed the gate open.

Tommy greeted you warmly, although his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Your gaze drifted slowly from him to his older brother, trying to gage the tense atmosphere.

“Hey guys,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering from the bitter weather. Joel leaned against the stable wall, fiddling with the bit in his hands, his eyes hard on Tommy. “Who died?” 

Joel’s eyes snapped to you, his expression grim.

“Woah,” you said lowly. “What the fuck, did someone actually die?”

“We found a body out there,” Tommy admitted quietly, stealing a glance over his shoulder to check if anyone else was listening.

“Where?”

His face seemed hesitant, as if he were unsure of sharing much information with you. He rubbed the back of his neck in the same way Joel did when he was trying to find the right words. “A few miles away. A woman. No one from here; we didn’t recognise her.”

“Bitten?” you asked quietly, your breaths short. The idea of anyone being outside those gates made your chest hurt suddenly, as the memories of life out there raced through your brain.

“No,” Joel answered gruffly, and you looked at him. “It must’ve been raiders, but the snowfall last night means there wasn’t much for us to do by means of tracking them.”

“We’re going out again tomorrow,” Tommy butt in firmly, staring at his older brother. “I want this shit figured out.”

You didn’t know what made you say it, but the words tumbled from your mouth. All fear forgotten, you blurted, “Let me come with you.”

“What?” Joel huffed sharply, glaring at you. “Fat chance.”

You scowled in his direction, looking at Tommy. “I lived out in the open for years, I can help you with tracking, even through the snow.”

Joel ground out your name, his eyes flashing with a warning that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“She has a point Joel,” Tommy held his hand up towards his brother, stopping the interruption he knew was coming. “Plus, we could use the extra pair of hands. Someone to watch our six.”

You would have never admitted it, but Tommy was right. The concern you felt for Joel all of a sudden was an unwelcome, painful feeling. After the past week, the idea of him going out past the gates made your throat tighten. You wanted to be out there with them, watching their six – keeping him safe.

“I don’t like it,” is all Joel said, eyes staring at the ground. “We can take Jesse.”

He’d rather have a 19-year-old kid on patrol with them, than you?

“Fuck, Jesse. I’ll be here tomorrow morning at 7,” you told Tommy, who nodded once.

“We should get going,” Joel pushed off the wall, and you looked to him in confusion. “I promised you I’d fix that leaky tap in your kitchen.” You didn’t remember ever having a conversation about your kitchen tap, but you nodded slowly anyways, sparing a glance in Dot’s direction before surmising that you’d check in on the horse properly in a few days.

“Fix her leaky tap my ass,” Tommy muttered, earning him a grunt from Joel. He put his hand on the small of your back and encouraged you out of the stables, leaving Tommy laughing as he finished packing up their equipment. 

Walking down the street in the direction of your house, you braced yourself for Joel’s frustration. You could tell he was tense in the stables, and unhappy with your decision. But you couldn’t help the way anxiety ticked away in your chest. Nothing good comes from wanting. Yet there you were, with Joel so close finally, and a reminder had been served to you that he could be taken away so fucking easily. Letting people in meant opening yourself up to pain, and you were suddenly terrified by how fast things were moving between you two; how much he meant to you after a single week of being anything more than friends.

“Joel,” you started quietly.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said quickly, squeezing your shoulder before lowering his hand once again to rest on your lower back. You nodded slowly, glancing around the street and noticing Rosie Paulson, a girl around Ellie’s age, staring at the pair of you from her front porch. Instinctively, you brushed off Joel’s hand, putting a wider berth between you.  

“That Paulson girl is staring at us like we’re naked,” you explained under your breath, walking faster.

“Nosy fucking kids,” Joel grunted in response, not even glancing in the girl’s direction.

You remembered the impression you’d gotten of Joel when you first arrived in Jackson; that cold, private person who kept to himself. The other people in the town saw the same in him, and you knew it would’ve been cause for curiosity; for them to suddenly spot him walking around town with you by his side.

Your house came into view, and you started to chuckle. “So, what’s all this leaky tap business, Miller?”

He gave a short laugh and looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Needed an excuse to get you alone.”

You barked out a laugh and led him quickly up the stairs to the front door, unlocking it hastily. Before you were fully inside, his hands were on you, prying the zip of your jacket down.  He kicked the door shut behind him with a slam, and pushed you up against it, his fingers pressing against the skin underneath your shirt. All your anxieties blew away in the wind when you felt his hands on your body.

“Fuck,” you gasped in shock. “Your hands are fucking freezing.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled into your mouth, pressing his lips to your urgently. “Help me warm ‘em up.” 

Putting your hands on his chest, you pushed him off you. “C’mon,” you encouraged, leading him to your bedroom. It was a painful dichotomy; fearing getting so close to him, so quickly, and yet not being able to keep your damn hands off him. When you clicked the bedroom door closed, you turned to find him standing at the edge of your bed, watching you with dark eyes.

“I really didn’t want to leave this morning,” he spoke lowly. “Wanted to stay in those sheets all wrapped up in you.” Through the admission he seemed somewhat shy, a flush still rising in his cheeks when he bared his feelings to you so honestly. Though you’d spent your nights together, no conversation had been had about what exactly you were doing. You’d admitted you liked being near each other, but not much else. And you decided you were okay with not knowing; if it meant you got to have Joel in any capacity.

You hummed, stepping forward to place your hands on his cheeks, and running your fingers through the coarse bristles of his beard. He leaned in and kissed you gently, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip before pressing eagerly into your mouth. You sighed softly, breathing in the scent of him. Your heart still raced like it was the first time.

You stripped each other’s clothes off hastily, until you were clad in nothing but your underwear, and cold fingers didn’t matter anymore because your skin had grown hot with desire. 

You pushed gently on his chest and when the back of his calves hit the bed, he fell onto it with a huff of surprise. He shuffled backward until his head hit the pillows, and you crawled up to straddle him. Your fingertips trailed lightly over his skin and through the soft smattering of hair on his chest.  

His eyes flashed dark with desire, and he grit his teeth. You felt powerful astride him, with your hands pressing down on his shoulders to keep him pinned to your bed.

“This how you want it?” he rasped.

“What can I say,” you smirked. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

He let out a sharp laugh, but it was cut off by a grunt when you ground down against him. You sighed at the feeling of him pulsing against your core, only two thin pieces of fabric separating you now. His eyes closed involuntarily, face relaxing at the feeling of you rubbing against him. But then they snapped open, trained on you again. You remembered what he’d said during your first time together. I don’t want to miss a single thing.

One of his hands left your waist and drifted between your thighs. He pulled your underwear to the side, and you exhaled heavily as one of his thick fingers dipped between your folds.

“Christ,” he exhaled. “You’re wet already, baby.”

“Can’t help it,” you whimpered, the pet name causing a flood of heat to rip through you. Your stomach tensed as he swirled his fingertip over your entrance, and spread the wetness upward, finally making contact with your pulsing clit.  He drew light circles around it at first, enjoying the way you held your breath at the feeling, and then would sharply gasp for air as he changed his rhythm.

“That feel good?” he asked, watching your expressions.

“So good,” you breathed, eyebrows pulled together tightly as you grinded against his hand.

He slipped a finger inside you, sighing huskily at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. You loved the sounds he made when his hands were on you; as if he would die happy just from having had the chance to touch you. After a moment, he pushed a second digit inside, curling them against your walls and scissoring them, stretching you out for him.

You kissed him messily, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, before running your lips down his jugular. You tried to stop yourself from leaving marks in your wake, although you knew Joel wouldn’t be bothered.

“Fuck Joel,” you huffed, lips pausing on his skin when his fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. “Stop.”

His hand stilled instantly, eyes searching your face in confusion.

“I need to fuck you,” you said firmly, pushing his hand away from your body and leaning back to tug your panties down your legs. Joel followed suit, desperately yanking his briefs down his legs before grabbing your hips to pull you back over him. Unintentionally, when you rested above him, the head of his cock nudged against your folds, and he moaned deeply.

“God,” you sighed, reaching down to grip him in your hand. You pushed his head through your folds, letting your slick coat his already weeping tip.

He groaned your name, fingertips digging into your hipbones. “Love how wet you get for me.”

You whined and couldn’t help but press your entrance down onto his head, longing to feel him inside of you. But common sense flared in the back of your mind, and you reached over desperately to grab a condom from the bedside table. Shuffling down to sit on his thighs, you ripped open the foil with your teeth, enjoying the way he stroked his cock and watched you with hooded eyes.

You knocked his hand away to roll the latex down his length, giving him a firm tug once it was on. Not wasting a second, he lined himself up to your entrance, and you sunk down onto his length.

You gasped, eyes shutting instinctively. For all the nights you’d spent together that week, it was the first time you’d ridden him. The position helped him hit a spot so deep inside that it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

“God damn it,” Joel spat, eyes rolling back in his head. One of his hands gripped the blanket, and the other held your waist in a vice grip.

“Shit Joel,” you whimpered. “You’re so deep like this, f-fuck.” Your breathless tone drove him crazy, and he begged you to move.

“You can take it, darlin’,” he encouraged. “Show me how well you can take me.”

You clenched around him, your slick dripping down and coating both of your thighs. Slowly, you lifted up before dropping back down, crying out as he instantly hit that spot inside of you again. Hungry for more, you got to work; lifting up and grinding down in a beautiful rhythm that had him making filthy sounds beneath you, reaching up to pinch and tug on your nipples. 

“Look so fucking good like this,” he grunted, his eyes flicking between your face and the way your tits bounced with every movement.

You grabbed his hands and shoved them into the pillows beside his head, leaning over him so he could suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He moaned into your skin, nipping gently at the painfully tight buds. With your torso bent forward, your clit brushed deliciously against the coarse hair at his base, and you couldn’t help but just grind yourself against him for a moment, letting out soft whines.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned into your chest. “Fuck yourself against me.”

With the sensation of him deep inside you, and the friction on your clit, an orgasm hit you out of nowhere. You cried out in shock, gripping his shoulders as your body bowed into his chest.

“Fuck,” he yelled into your skin, his hands wrapping around your back to hold you to him. You’d come to learn that your orgasm was often what pushed him over the edge, and could tell he was holding back, waiting.

Your body was shaking as the pleasure rolled through you, and Joel’s mouth sponging kisses across your chest did nothing to lessen the intensity of the moment. As your body relaxed, he began nudging his hips upwards, making you whimper.

“Not done with you yet, baby,” Joel rasped, his fingers dragging down your back as he fucked up into you. He was so thick, so heavy, inside you, and even in the minutes after an orgasm, you had to steel yourself in preparation for another. With all your strength, your pushed herself back into a seated position.

“You’re too far away,” he grunted, attempting to push himself up so you were chest to chest.

“Uh uh,” you tutted breathlessly. Your hands were on his chest, holding him against the bed. “Thought you didn’t wanna miss a thing, Miller? Watch me.”

His eyes flicked down from your face to your chest, your stomach, all the way down to where you were connected. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his neck was flushed red. You could only imagine that you looked the same way, as your chest heaved with exhausted breaths.

“So beautiful,” he breathed out, and your cheeks burned. The moment was almost too intense. Post orgasm, with him deep inside of you, saying words you struggled to accept about yourself.

“Fuck me,” you begged him, and he obliged.  

His grip on your waist was bruising, using his strength to hold you still while he thrust up into you. You were sure there would be fingerprint shaped marks on you the next day, and the thought made you shiver.

“Y’feel so,” he grunted. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

You leaned back and rested your hands on his thighs for leverage, moaning lowly at the new, tighter angle.

“Oh,” you sighed. “Oh, you’re gonna make me cum again, Joel.”

He cursed loudly, his rhythm breaking for a second before starting up again at a faster rate. “C’mon,” he encouraged, dark eyes bearing into yours. Holding his gaze, a shiver ran down your spine as you noted a hint of frustration. Joel was being rough, pounding into you with no mercy, desperate for you to cum again. It seemed the tension from the conversation in the barn hadn’t disappeared entirely.

Choked sobs fell from your mouth involuntarily as he bounced you on top of him. His teeth were gritted as he snarled, “Want to feel you cum all over my cock. I know you can.”

His words were enough to send you over the edge a second time, and a guttural cry tore out of your throat as you toppled into your orgasm. Joel followed close behind, his hips snapping messily into yours over and over again, while he let out rough curses and mumbles of your name.

Heavy breaths filled the air around you as you collapsed onto his chest. You left feather soft kisses along his collarbones, your eyes closed in exhaustion. He gripped your waist and spun you slowly so your back hit the pillows, before pulling himself out of you.

“I meant it,” he said a short while later. You’d cleaned up and were laying in bed, hands stroking each other’s skin absentmindedly. You looked at him in confusion. He reached out and traced a finger along the scar on your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

You cringed quickly, tucking your face into the pillow.

“Don’t do that,” he pleaded in a whisper. “Don’t hide from me.”

“It’s hard,” you muttered, still not meeting his eye-line. “This all feels very… intense.”

He nodded slowly, eyes watching you warily. “Is that… bad?”

“It’s not bad,” you rushed out. “It’s just different. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a… a you.”

“Long time for me too,” he said. You stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything. Finally, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I need to eat something,” you mumbled into his mouth, eager to change the subject. “Or I’m gonna pass out.”

“Can’t have that. Need you to keep your energy up,” he replied, his palm gripping your ass quickly. “Can’t have you tirin’ out on me.”

You scoffed, jumping off the bed to tug on a pair of underwear and a random singlet.

As you walked down the hallway into the kitchen, he called out, “I’m hungry too!” You replied with a laugh, and a “yeah yeah!”

You rifled through the kitchen cabinets for a few minutes and contemplated heating up a can of soup, until your eyes landed on the bag of oranges you’d picked up a few days beforehand.

You grabbed one with an eager smile, and began pealing the rind over the sink, not noticing the front door opening in your periphery.

“Jesus, aren’t you cold, freak?”

“Shit!” you jumped, almost dropping the fruit. “You scared me.”  

Cal was leaning against the kitchen doorway, staring at you in incredulity.

“Not my fault you’re wandering around in your underwear with your head up in the clouds,” he was laughing.

“Shh, shh,” you hushed him with a snort. “Joel’s here.”

“Oh shit,” Cal said, eyes wide with mischief. “Grumpy old Joel Miller in our house?”

“Give it a rest,” you rolled your eyes, starting up on your peeling again. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” he trailed off, eyes flicking down the hall over your shoulder. You could hear Joel’s footsteps approaching the kitchen, but held focus on the orange, tearing white strands off the juicy flesh. Your cheeks flushed at what the two of you must’ve looked like; half dressed, with messy hair and tired eyes.

“Hey Joel,” Cal nodded politely, raising his hand in a wave.  

Joel settled directly behind you, and your eyes went wide when you felt his bare chest press against your back, and his hand come down to land on your stomach. His long fingers splayed against you, pinkie resting dangerously close to the band of your underwear.

“Howdy,” he said quietly. His thumb toyed with the hem of your singlet, brushing underneath the fabric along your bare skin. You turned your head slightly to see Joel out of the corner of your eye, but he was staring directly at Cal. Your heart started to beat a little faster at the sudden awkward tension in the air. What was he doing?

Joel’s face was devoid of emotion, even the skin between his eyebrows was uncharacteristically smooth. But everything his face hid, his body language screamed. His knee brushed against the back of your leg, and where the contact would normally have made you shiver, you found herself stunned into silence by what you realised was a clear display of possessiveness. Joel was marking his territory in front of Cal, and you wanted no fucking part in it.

“How are you?” Cal asked warily, clearly confused by the dynamic between the two of you.

“I’m grand,” Joel said with a tone of finality, and no indication of wanting to continue the conversation. Your brain flashed back to the first time you’d met him, and what you’d thought; rude motherfucker. The adoration you’d felt for the man only minutes before was long gone, replaced with a burning frustration at his behaviour.

The silence was agonising, but you didn’t know how to break it. Cal fidgeted, eyes glancing at Joel’s hand before looking to the floor uneasily. Your stomach twisted as Joel leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your neck. Cal cleared his throat into his elbow and finally muttered something about heading over to Louisa’s. Willing yourself to move, you gripped Joel’s hand and pried it off you. You turned and stalked back towards the bedroom; the orange forgotten on the counter.

When he entered the room behind you, you spun around angrily. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” he asked innocently, hands raised in the air.

“You practically propped your leg up and pissed on me back there,” you grunted. “Like a dog marking your fucking territory.”

He said your name softly, arms lowering.

“Don’t say my name like that,” you said. “What the hell was that?”

“What, I can’t touch you?” he asked defensively.

“Did you see how uncomfortable he was? Your hand was practically up my shirt!”

“Well good,” he growled, and you paused, mouth falling open. “Maybe I wanted to set the record straight.”

“Set the record…” you stared at him wide eyed. “What the fuck are you talking about, Joel?”

His face relaxed suddenly as he realised how appalled you were by him, and he made a quick step toward you. “Okay, look,” he surrendered, hands reaching out to you. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Why did you do that?” you pushed, stepping back.

He breathed your name again, his eyes darting to stare at the wall. He gripped his hands together in front of him, cracking his fingers roughly. “Look, I-I can’t help but think about you and him living in this house together sometimes… knowing what I kno-“

“Jesus Christ,” you interrupted, pulling a pair of trousers from the chest of drawers, and beginning to tug them up your legs.  

“Now listen,” he said from behind you. “I’m sorry, but-“

“But what, Joel?” you turned back, zipping your pants. “I was honest with you, before any of this started between us. I told you more about my history, including what happened with Cal, than I have with another person, ever. I trusted you, thought you’d take it at face value. But then here you are, on a weird possessive kick, trying to lay some sort of claim on me in front of him? Cal is like my fucking brother, I told you that.”

“I do trust you, but I doubt it’s the fuckin’ same for him,” he ground out, his face reddening. This wasn’t the soft spoken, kind man you had gotten so close with. He was frustrated and angry, and you didn’t like this side to him. “What am I supposed to think? How do I know that he’s not just holdin’ out hope, waitin’ for you to change your mind?”

It was as though all the tension from the past few hours bubbled up inside of you. The stern words in the barn, Joel thinking he could make decisions for you, stop you from coming on patrol. And now this. If anybody else in Jackson dared to do these things, try to tell you what to do, you’d have their fucking tongue for it.

“Because you’re wrong!” you shouted, unable to help yourself. Your chest was heaving with sharp breaths; the situation astounded you. Is he fucking serious? “And you know what Joel, Cal will always be in my life. He’s been with me for a long time before you, and he’ll be with me for a long time after you. And if you can’t fucking handle that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your mouth had moved faster than your brain, and you regret the phrasing as soon as it came out. But it was too late to take it back, so you steeled your shoulders and held your ground. Joel’s face fell quickly, his mouth turning down in dismay.

After you, you’d said. After you.

His hurt expression made your chest ache, but he cleared his throat and covered it up in a second.

“Well then,” he nodded, bending down to yank his clothes off the floor. He dressed in silence, not looking at you again, before turning and walking out of the room. You watched him leave with wide eyes, tears threatening your water line. Left standing alone in the house, you could only wonder what the fuck had just happened. Maybe you’d been right; wanting never brings anything good.

The nightmares returned that night. After a long week of peaceful deep sleep, the fear was paralysing, and somehow, you’d forgotten just how awful it felt. You slept fitfully, drifting in and out with no reprieve from your own mind.

By the time 6am rolled around, you tore out of bed to start the day. Washing your face in the bathroom, you ran your finger along the scar on your cheekbone, glaring at your reflection. No matter what you did, it would serve as a reminder of how weak you’d been made to feel, all those years ago. You weren’t supposed to be beautiful; you were supposed to be strong.  

It was bitterly cold outside. As you trudged towards the stables to meet Joel and Tommy the wind whipped painfully against your skin. Shoving your hands deep in your pockets, you tried to ignore the feelings of regret you had over pushing so hard to come along on the patrol. The argument with Joel rung in your head on a constant loop, and you cringed to think of how tense things were about to be.

His pained expression flashed through your mind, but you willed it away as quickly as it came. You were angry with him. If he’d just told you how he felt, maybe you would have understood, but instead he acted like a child. You rolled your eyes thinking about it. Maybe it was for the best this had happened early on in your... situation with him.

“Oh, hey!” a voice called suddenly, and your head whipped around to spot the newbie jogging in your direction.

“Lincoln,” you nodded at him. “How’re you settling in?”

“Settling in well,” he grinned, his cheeks rosy from the cold. “Surprised to spot anyone else out and about so early.” You gave him a wry smile, doing your best to be polite. It was too early for small talk, and you’d heard from the girls at the stables just how chatty he could be.

“Headed out on patrol,” you said shortly, sighing quietly when he changed his course of direction and fell into step beside you.

“Oh, wow!” he said, too loud for your tired brain. “I thought I’d heard you worked at the stables?”

You could see the barn at the end of the street. So close.

“I normally do, just helping out Tommy this morning.”

“Well,” he stopped walking, and you found yourself pausing too, reminding yourself to be respectful. “I’ll leave you be. Be careful out there. Never know what kind of madness you might come across outside those gates.”

You stared at him for a second, brain struggling to catch up with his shift in tone. Lincoln’s cheery smile was gone, and his face seemed almost solemn as he gave the warning. 

When you didn’t respond for a moment, he spoke again. “You be safe then.”

“Always am,” you quipped, before turning to stalk towards the stables.

Joel and Tommy were already preparing the horses when you arrived. Tommy gave a friendly wave when he spotted you, beckoning you over.

“Morning, you remember how to use one of these?” he held a rifle out to you. 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, stealing a glance in Joel’s direction. He was adjusting the saddle on his horse, and didn’t acknowledge your presence. You shouldered the gun and let out a quick huff of exasperation. Fine.

“Joel saddled Dot up for you,” Tommy said. “We’ll head out in a second.”

Your annoyance waned ever so slightly, and you stared at Joel’s back curiously. He still didn’t turn; whatever he was fiddling with on Percy’s saddle must’ve been pretty damn interesting.

“That’s nice,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Tommy muttered, gaze flitting awkwardly between the two of you when he noted your disingenuous tone. The contrast from when the three of you were last in the stables together was vast, and the younger Miller’s confusion was palpable. 

Joel didn’t say anything as you mounted your horses and rode out of the gates. You hung back, trailing behind their horses while you gained your bearings outside the walls of the settlement.

Large mountains decorated the scene, dusted so beautifully with snow that it would be picturesque if you weren’t so uneasy. It had been so many months since you arrived in Jackson, and being back outside caused your heart rate to kick up a notch. The landscape was vast, and memories of extensive stretches of time spent wandering aimlessly through the country played in your mind. So many cold winters spent hidden in dilapidated buildings, huddled underneath thin blankets, praying you wouldn’t lose your toes to the cold.

“So, we’re going back along the south patrol,” Tommy called back to you. “Same as what we did yesterday. Don’t worry too much about where we’re going, just follow us. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything strange.”

“Roger that,” you called back.

The three of you rode in silence for the first hour. You didn’t mind it much. Your shoulders were tense as you focused on your surroundings. Your ears were sensitive to the smallest of movements, body twitching at the slightest sounds.

“There she is,” you heard Tommy say up ahead, and your breathing hitched. “Fucking hell, the animals must’ve gotten to her.”

Dot trotted into step beside Tommy’s horse, and with a rolling stomach you looked down and spotted the body.

The dead woman was mangled, gory tears in her flesh clear even through the light smattering of snow that had fallen upon her. Animals had clearly gotten to her through the night, and you cringed to see the blood splattered on the bright white ground around her body. Joel was silent.

The three of you tied your horses to a nearby tree and set off on foot, looking for any signs the raiders might have left behind.

“I’m tellin’ you Tommy, we won’t find anything,” you could hear Joel grumbling under his breath up ahead. “She probably just fucking froze.”

“Let’s just be sure, Joel,” Tommy said firmly.

Joel exhaled heavily, and was turning his head to say something else, when you heard it. it was faint, almost too quiet to notice, but your ears pricked up.

Clicking.

Your feet ground to a halt. “Shut up,” you hissed.

“I beg your par-“ Joel turned to look at you for the first time, but stopped speaking when he saw the alarmed expression on your face.

You held a finger to your lips. Listen, you mouthed. Tommy and Joel shared a brief look, before Tommy gripped your jacket collar and hauled you forward to stand in between them.

“I thought they froze out here in the Winter,” you said quietly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Not all of ‘em,” Joel grunted.

“Alright, we move slowly,” Tommy whispered, eyes darting across their surroundings. “As quiet as possible. There shouldn’t be many, so we’ll sort this fucker out and then get back to the gate.”

“We’re gonna kill it?” you asked, eyes wide. Never in your years in the wild had you actively sought out any infected. When you heard clicking, you went the other way. “We should just head back now.”

“It’s part of the patrol. Gotta clear out any infected we come across,” Tommy told you, eyes apologetic. “You’ll be fine.” You refrained from admitting that it wasn’t you that you were worried about. As much as you and Cal had done your best to avoid them, you’d had to kill plenty of infected in your lives. But you were hit with the sudden realisation that you hadn’t even brought a knife with you. Jesus, I’m out of practice. 

Quietly as possible, you checked that your rifle was loaded, and the three of you walked toward the noise with your weapons raised. Your heartbeat thudded rhythmically in your ears, and the ache of anxiety grew in your chest. The clicking grew louder the further you walked, and your heart stuttered when they finally came into view. Not one, but two.

Your palms were sweaty against the rifle, and you cursed quietly, reaching down to wipe your right hand on the thigh of your pants.

“We’re good,” Joel whispered. You could see him watching you, out of the corner of your eye, but your gaze stayed trained on the duo up ahead. They were close together, twitching and writhing underneath a tall tree a few hundred metres ahead.

The way the creatures transformed with time never ceased to amaze you, in a morbid way. Fungal plates grew out of their heads, hues of bright orange and blue. After a year or so of infection, the fungus had solidified their bodies, making them stronger; more impenetrable. These should be the things that haunted your nightmares.

The three of you crept forward, and the infected were unaware of your presence, until a twig snapped painfully loud under your boot. They let out loud screeches, heads snapping in the direction of the sound.  

You grunted as your right side roughly bumped against Joel’s left, and you realised that you’d both moved to step in front of the other. “Get back,” he barked, staring through the scope on his rifle.

“I got the left,” Tommy shouted, all attempts at stealth thrown out the window. A deafening crack rang out as Tommy shot at one of the clickers. Joel took a shot at the one on the right but growled in frustration when the bullet sizzled just past it. He went to empty the bullet casing and swore when his gun jammed.

You could hear Tommy somewhere to your left, warning you that there was a third infected. Stepping forward, you shot at the one running at you and Joel. The bullet lodged solidly in its torso, but it was too close at that point, and within a second it was on you.

“Fuck,” you yelled, the wind getting knocked from your lungs as you landed on you back.

Your hands pushed at its neck, holding its snapping mouth as far from you as you could. It was snarling and screaming in you face, and white noise rushed in your ears. Its arms flailed, hands swiping viciously towards your face. It landed a heavy blow to the side of your head, and you screamed in pain. A thunderous shot rang out, and a wet sensation splashed across your face. Your head smacked back against the ground as you recoiled, the clicker collapsing above you with its head split open.  

The body was heavy on top of you, and a painful buzzing in your left ear had you grimacing in discomfort. You cupped your ears in attempt to soothe the ache. The weight on top of you finally disappeared, and you took the opportunity to roll onto your side. Warm hands were on your back, your arms, grabbing you.

Joel’s urgent voice finally reached you, calling your name, and you opened your eyes. His knees thudded heavily into the snow beside you, hands gripping the lapels of your jacket and dragging you into a seated position.

You stared at him in a wide-eyed daze. His hands ran over your body frantically, tugging your collar away from your neck to touch your skin, and checking your bare hands. He snapped your name, trying to get your attention. “Are you bit?”

Your face was so wet. As you slowly returned to clarity, it was all you could feel. And in a horrifying moment of realisation, it was all you could taste. The smell of metal and rot had invaded your mouth, your nose. You pushed herself back from Joel just in time to empty the contents of your stomach onto the snow between you.

He gripped your hair at the base of your neck, rubbing your back in short, rough circles. Somewhere far off, you thought you could hear speaking, but it was muffled.

“Is she bit, Joel?” Tommy was saying. Your stomach twisted violently, and you vomited again. When you managed to settle, Joel tugged you up onto your feet, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Joel?" Tommy urged louder.

“She’s not fucking bit!” Joel yelled, his eyes tight with concern as he wiped the blood off your face with a rag. He walked hastily in the direction of the horses, and when you finally reached them, he tried to get you on his horse with him.

“I can ride,” you mumbled, your own voice sounding muffled.

“Just come wit-“

“I can ride on my own,” you asserted, allowing him to help you mount Dot.

The ride back to the gate was long. Joel rode right next to you, not speaking but never letting you out of his sight. The shock was wearing off, but you felt like you had vertigo; dizziness made you grip the reins tighter, and you prayed internally that you wouldn’t fall off. When the gate finally came into view, you could’ve sobbed from relief.

On Maria’s orders, you weren’t allowed to leave the gate check in point until the settlement’s doctor came and gave the all the clear. Tommy and Maria watched you like a hawk, but you paid them no mind. You were sat on the ground, cradling your aching ear, while Joel made futile attempts to clean up your face. He couldn’t do much though, without warm water. No one said anything. 

“You’ve got a perforated eardrum,” Dr Llewellyn told you, after shining a light into your left ear. It was leaking a clear, blood-tinged fluid that made your skin itch. “I’ll give you some antibiotics to help ward off any infection, but it should heal up on its own within a fortnight or so.”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly, accepting a small bottle of pills. “Thank you.” Considering you were covered in blood and brain matter and dirt, you were surprised by how unfazed Llewellyn appeared.

A low whistle rung out and you turned to look at Tommy. “I’m impressed,” he said quietly. “You held your own out there. We could use someone like you on the patrol team.”

“Tommy,” Joel started, but you interrupted him.

“Can you take me home?” His head swung to look at you and he was nodding quickly, gripping you hand to pull you up off the ground.

He was quiet, on the walk back. It wasn’t out of character, but you could sense a unique solemnity to it. One of his hands was on you at all times, and his head darted around constantly to see if there was anyone on the street who would spot you. Your demeanour would definitely cause alarm, and he wanted to avoid it if possible. The hearing in your left ear was almost entirely muted, and you walked in a daze, wincing at the headache pulsing in your skull.

Cal was still out when you got back, and Joel ushered you into the bathroom. He started the shower and helped you strip out of your ruined clothes. When the water was warm, and you were standing naked in the middle of the room, he turned toward the door.

“Joel,” you whispered, tears brimming on your waterline. As the shock wore off fully, you felt panic flare inside of you again. “Please stay.”

“Of course,” he hushed, putting his hand on your shoulder. His face looked tired, eyes and mouth downturned in concern. “Let’s clean you up, okay darlin’?”

You nodded meekly, allowing him to walk you into the shower and underneath the warm spray. He kicked his shoes and socks off, peeling his clothes off quickly before stepping into the stream of water beside you. Red and brown water ran down your body, and you shut your eyes quickly. You hair was matted thickly to your head, dried blood glueing it to your scalp.

Joel’s hands rubbed water into it, gently working out the tangles until it was clean. When the blood and grime was gone, he shampooed and conditioned it, nudging your head back softly to wash the suds out. You kept your eyes closed, tears still welling in them. The sense of failure and shame bubbled painfully in your chest. Why couldn’t you keep yourself safe? Why did you always get hurt? You felt like a fucking liability.

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, signifying that your hair was clean, and began rubbing soap over your body.

“Joel,” you said his name again urgently, voice thick with unshed tears.

“I’m here,” he soothed.

“I need you to check,” you said, voice so low he almost didn’t hear you.

“Check what?” he asked after a moment, his tone steely. Your eyes opened, and a tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at his blank expression. His hands had stopped moving.

“Please, just,” you gulped. “Check for bites. We might’ve missed something.”

 “You’re not fuckin’ bit,” he ground out.

“Please,” you begged, a sob racking through you body. “What if there’s one and we just haven’t seen it? Please.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” he acquiesced finally, realising that your panic wouldn’t subside until he did this for you.

With painstaking care, he resumed his ministrations along your body. Dragging the bar of soap along your skin, checking for bites on your neck, your back. His fingers traced the length of your arms, down to your fingers. His knees cracked loudly as he crouched beside you, hands brushing down your legs, checking.

When he stood back up, he wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest. “You’re safe,” he murmured in your ear, grip tightening as you cried. “There’s nothing, you’re safe.”

Joel had you wrapped in a blanket and in front of the burning fire in your living room within the hour. He’d rifled through Cal’s room looking for a beanie, and gently tugged the navy hat on your head when he returned.

“He won’t mind I’m sure,” Joel muttered while dropping down onto the ground on your right side. He stared affectionately at how cosy you looked.

“He won’t. We share clothes all the time,” you said softly, gaging his reaction. He nodded slowly, eyes staring into the fire. The moment reminded you so strongly of the night a few weeks prior, when he’d found you wandering Jackson late at night in search of firewood, with a busted face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the sincerity in his tone surprising you. His gaze held on the flames, but his hand drifted under the blanket to rest on your knee. “I was out of line, and I acted like a jealous kid. I don’t know what came over me.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, mulling his words over in your head. All the anger you’d felt towards him was so foreign now, after your near death experience, but you knew you had to talk about it. The way he’d held you in the shower, cleaned your skin... you weren’t ready be done with him.

“I suppose I’ve been relying on myself for so long,” he continued. “That I gotta … adjust to having other people in the picture. I had to adjust with Ellie, and now with you… I’m adjusting again. And it’s a good change; I want you in the picture.”

“You do?” you asked, wishing he would look at you. His cheeks were red from the warmth of the fire, and he cleared his throat nervously, nodding.

Finally, he turned his head to meet your eye. “I think I’ve wanted you in it since the first time I met you.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s bullshit, Joel.”

“Okay,” he laughed quietly. “The fourth time I met you, then.”

You stared at each other. For once, you didn’t feel like hiding as his eyes slid over the features of your face, taking you in.

“Cal’s my family,” is all you said.

“And I won’t get in the way of that,” he held your gaze.

“Are you sure?”

He breathed your name. “It terrifies me to admit it but… I want you in any way I can have you. If Cal is your family, then I’m not going to fuck with that. I trust you.”

“He’s happy, you know,” you started, resting your hand on top of his. You chose your words carefully. “That you’re… in my life. He thinks you’re a good person.”

Joel’s eyes softened further, and he had the good grace to appear embarrassed.

“I need to say something though,” you continued, and his face tightened with alertness, hanging on your every word. “After everything that I’ve been through, the way I’ve lived… being in Jackson has brought order back to my life, Joel. And I need that. I need to feel in control of my life, and my decisions. If I want something, like going on a patrol,” his eyes darkened, but he stayed silent. “then I will. And you need to accept that about me. My decisions are my own.”

“They are,” he said firmly, squeezing your knee.

After a beat of silence, you gripped his hand tighter, and admitted, “I want you too. In my picture.”

He nodded, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know, darlin’.”

“Gonna have to stay on my right side though, with this bum ear,” you sighed.

“We can handle a perforated ear drum,” Joel chuckled quietly, his nose brushing against yours. “You stay on my left, and I’ll stay on your right. We only need two workin’ ears between us."

And as sweet as it was, the moment was broken by the front door of the house unlocking loudly, and Cal stumbled into the room. He took in the picture quickly, watching you both with a distressed look on his face.

“Cal?” you asked, eyes wide. You figured he'd heard what happened on the patrol and rushed home to see you.

“You okay?” Joel stood, taking in the younger man in confusion.

“Sorry,” he breathed heavily, pushing his snow slicked hair back off his forehead. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Don’t apologise,” Joel said, offering a sheepish smile. Cal watched him warily, and looked to you.

“Someone’s gone missing,” he said, catching you off guard. Your shoulders tensed, and you nodded.

“Milena, right?” you asked. “I heard the other day. I thought she’d just left Jackson.”

“Who?” Cal frowned, his hands shaking. “No, it’s Rebecca, from the patrol group. I just ran into her husband; she didn’t go home last night, and he hasn’t been able to find her today. They’re putting together a search party.”

14/08/2022: OKAY!!! HERE WE GO!!! i read this one a couple of days ago and can’t stop thinking about it. this bradley has crawled inside of my brain and refuses to leave (and honestly, i don’t want him to!!!)

jordan, this is the first fic of yours i had the pleasure of reading and it blew me away?????!!!!!!! i read the sneak peak and just kept coming back to your profile to see if you had posted the full thing and then you did!!!! and i was so ready to dive into this!!! so now that i’ve (tried to) collected myself enough to try and write something of a coherent and worthy enough review, here it is! spoiler alert: it’s just me screaming over your beautiful writing :)

the description really had me hooked from the beginning, we love a smart, bratty girl!!!! i love her personality so much just as much as i love bradley’s and for you to be able to make her just as real and multidimensional… REAL TALENT!!! she’s opinionated and stands her ground and is funny and so smart!!! i just love her and think she’s such a good fit for rooster.

“Plus, he liked smart girls. There was something about them. It didn’t hurt that the ones he had come across were always a little prissy, a little spoiled - a little uptight.

A little bratty.” of course bradley rooster bradshaw has a thing for bratty girls. of fucking course.

“Over the last two weeks, you had been texting frequently, starting off the day with your Wordle scores and a fun fact. It was cheesy and a little nerdy, but you were a big trivia fan - and San Diego County Barstool Trivia Champion - and Bradley had wanted to impress you. It was important that he impressed you.” in love with both of them playing wordle together and separating little fun facts for each other???? bradley thinking it was important that he impressed her!!! he’s a whore but he’s such a romantic and kind of can’t help it??!!! he really likes her and wants to prove himself even with little things like this 🥺

“You were both on drink number two and the awkwardness of your earlier outburst hasn’t quite dissipated yet. The sexual tension on the other hand? If Bradley had thought it was high earlier, it was stratospheric now.” love this!!!!! LET’S GO STRATOSPHERIC!!!!

“If you’re gonna be a brat about it, at least get my title right, sweetheart,” he snapped, the first time all night. He shoved his knee in between your legs, widening the space between your thighs just slightly. “It’s Lieutenant.” no this whole ranking thing is making me go a little insane… just a little… of course he was gonna take the chance to correct her!!!

“Bradley hooked his foot around your barstool and dragged it even closer to him. You let out a squeak and had to brace yourself by holding onto his shoulders.” AND I HAVE PASSED AWAY. JUST LIKE THAT. ABSOLUTELY NO WORDS. HOW DARE YOU DO THIS?????? WHAT IS THIS?????

“And that was when he knew. Knew as well as the sun was going to rise tomorrow morning that you were going to fuck that night.” please stop i can’t functionnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn THIS IS SOOOSIDHSHHDHSD

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Phoenix hissed in Bradley’s ear, snapping him out of his daydream.

He startled and then gestured wildly. “It was going fine for a while and then I told her I was in the Navy and she started going on about defense budgets and misappropriating government property and Uncle Sam sucking my dick - I don’t know, Phoenix!” PHOENIX MY BFF LOVE OF MY LIFE, LOVE HER LITTLE CAMEO!!!! and bradley’s answer 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 the way he’s just so dumbfounded by their interaction so far!!! he’s so stupid!!! i am in love with him!!! this was so in character!!! you nailed it!!!

“Fuck. He wanted you - desperately. And worse than that, he liked you. Liked how smart you were, liked your sense of humor, liked you. And some part of him felt bad for setting you up.” AND WORSE THAN THAT HE LIKED YOU!!!!! YEAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I LOVE IT WHEN WRITERS EMPHASIZE THIS LITTLE THING!!!!!! because liking someone means so much!!!! and him realizing he did kind of unintentionally hid what he does for a living from her because, let’s be honestly, it normally should’ve come up sooner than it did. anyways, i like that he understands!!!

“You let him take you by your elbow and guide - read drag - you towards the exit, barely stopping to allow you to grab your clutch off the bar top. Knowing Hangman and Phoenix were no doubt watching the entire series of events unfold, Bradley threw his middle finger up over his shoulder, and then let the door close firmly behind his back.” HOT!!!! THE MIDDLE FINGER!!! DRAGGING HER AWAY!!!!!! THIS IS DOING IT FOR ME!!!!

“No, I’m gonna take you home and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight in the morning, that sound good, sweetheart?” You nodded dumbly. “And for the record, it’s not a truck, it’s a Bronco.” STOP i just know he has the time of his life when he gets to correct her on anything!!!! like he finally has some advantage shhfhshcjshdhdhd AND HIS MOUTH IS SO FILTHY I LOVE HIM I CAN’T HELP IT.

“Fuck. Imagine if you weren’t so blissed out getting finger fucked and you could talk back at him? This time he let out a groan.” ABSOLUTELY NO WORDS. I NO LONGER EXIST. AGAIN WITH THE ADVANTAGE!!!!! AND THE FACT THAT HE’S DOING THIS TO HER YOU KNOW!!!! IT’S ALL HIM!!!! ROOSTER’S EFFECT!!!!! I CAN SEE HIS EGO INFLATING LIKE A BALLOON!!!!

“Shh, shh, that’s a good girl, yeah? Such a good girl for me.” NOT A GOOD GIRL DROP. INSANE INSANE INSANEEEEEEEEEEE.

“A few moments later, the Bronco practically rolled into his driveway on two wheels. Thankfully, Bradley had left the porch light on so the house wasn’t entirely dark. You looked at the house critically and he desperately wanted you to like it.

It was important to him that you liked it.” NO BECAUSE HE WAS ALREADY UNCONSCIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP!!! HE NEEDS HER TO LIKE THE HOUSE!!!!! HE’S SUCH A ROMANTIC I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL!!!!!! i love this change in the narrative in between their heated moments so much. it adds so much depth because it’s slowly becoming so much more than just lust. i feel it’s always been a little morr than just lust with them? ❤️‍🩹

AND THEN HE CARRIES HER FROM THE CAR TO THE HOUSE!!!!!! EVER THE GENTLEMAN!!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!

“In turn, you smacked his back. “And you would know all about that - making demands. Hostage negotiations, CIA blacksites - mmmhh!” she’s ridiculous i love her and this made me laugh!!!

“Navy’s good for one thing, I guess,” you muttered against Bradley’s neck while your hands ran over his body.” SPEAK YOUR TRUTH!!!

“When he eventually pulled away, your eyes met, and he rested his forehead against yours.” favorite little detail 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 tenderness in the middle of so much frantic want!!!!

“Fuck me, Bradley - please?”

You said his name. Not lieutenant or asshole or some other slightly condescending moniker. You said Bradley. As in you wanted him - the guy who had originally asked you out. The one you had tried so hard to impress all those days and nights spent texting.

And who was he to say no to that?” was he getting a little insecure? MY BABYYYYYYY I GO BALLISTIC WHEN HE GETS EMOTIONAL!!!!

“Please,” you whimpered sometime later. It was a simple, one word response, but it proved to be his undoing.” i forgot the name of this kink but rooster definitely has it!!!!! anyways IT PROVED TO BE HIS UNDOING????? DUDE I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH.

AND PAUSE- NOT HER TRYING TO TALK ABOUT CO2 EMISSIONS WHILE RIDING HIM HOW IS HER BRAIN STILL FUNCTIONING LIKE THAT??? in the next line of dialogue i know she doesn’t remember the amount or whatever but the fact that she even tried to bring it up shdgshchhshdhdhd silly!!!

“The absolutely blissed out expression on your face made him groan. “God, look at you now, all cock dumb for me. What happened to that smart girl from before?” GODDDDDDDDDDD.

AND THEN HE LISTS THE PRESIDENTS I CAN’T-

“Good boy,” you just managed to get out before Bradley really felt himself losing control.” IT WASN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU TO THROW THAT GOOD GIRL IN MY FACE YOU HAD TO BRING A GOOD BOY DROP INTO THIS AND EXPECT MY BRAIN TO STILL BE ABLE TO ABSORB ANYTHING AFTER? how???? and the fact that he likes it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ugh!!!!!!

“Gotta wait a couple more dates before we start talking about kids, sweetheart.” THE WAY MY STOMACH STARTED CARTWHEELING OVER HERE LIKE IT’S THE FUCKING OLYMPICS MY GOD. FAVORITE FUCKING PIECE OF DIALOGUE I DON’T EVEN KNOW ANYTHING ANYMORE.

“You both laid there, side by side, chests rising and falling heavily. Fuck. Neither of you knew what to say - if there even was something to say. It had never been like that with anyone else - ever.” IT’S NOT LIKE THIS WITH OTHER PEOPLE!!!! between all the banter and teasing they just really like each other so much!!!!! yeah!!!!

“So, how do we really feel about the stache?” You brought your finger up to his mouth and dragged it across his mustache and then to his lips.” skchjsjdjdjdjdjd i love her!!! and this is my second favorite detail. but absolutely do not mess with the mustache.

“You’ll change your mind after riding my face.” WHORE!!!

“He kissed your nose. “You know us military guys, ready with a moment’s notice.” You yawned. “Or maybe not…” i think i take it back, this might be my favorite detail. the fact that he notices the yawn and probably of course notices that she’s getting tired and sleepy so no round 2 for them at that moment but maybe later 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 rooster my beloved!!!! (the bar is very low i am aware).

“He so rarely allowed himself that time during the week - the ability to ‘just do’ and not over think everything. To do whatever he wanted. But that Saturday morning was different.

Because that Saturday you were there.” HELL YEAH BECAUSE THAT SATURDAY YOU WERE THERE AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!

“Morning,” he rasped as he opened his eyes. You were staring at him, looking like a deer in headlights. “How’d you sleep?” like a deer in headlights! i love this comparison, it made me visualize the scene perfectly!!!

AND YOU HAD TO GIVE US A SCARE I REALLY THOUGHT SHE WAS GONNA LEAVE FOR GOOD I WAS STARTING TO GET SO SAD. very mean of you.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t hide his smile or the relief he had felt.” ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 babies!!!! it was all for fun and giggles, a little humor in the morning!!!

“You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Smart girl.” FUCKING KILL ME.

“You ignored him. “You already fly in that death trap plane and can handle all the g-force so the astronaut training programs shouldn’t be - don’t look at me like that, all surprised I know what g-force is, I’m not an idiot.” i can see him just staring at her in awe while talking about this!! i can see it!!!! he’s so amused!!!!

“He wasn’t about to give up on this just yet.” *JUST INSERT SO MANY HEART EMOJIS* one of my favorite lines!!!!!

“He pulled his lips away from yours. “- Wait, wait - it’s not okay for me to exploit foreign nations, but it’s okay for me to potentially colonize space?”

You straddled his waist, barely moving your lips away from his neck as you gave a reply. “Shh, shh, we can work out the details later…” no because i’ve been watching for all mankind on apple tv+ for the past month and that’s exactly the plot of the show (and there are so many elements in it that connect to the top gun universe) like, bradley’s right on this one sjdhjshdjdjdsjjdjd this made me laugh!!! and it was a perfect ending for the part 1 of their story!!!! i love their relationship so much!!! i love the way you write!!!!!!

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay [part ½]

Summary: in which lieutenant bradshaw has a thing for smart girls - and maybe ones who hate his guts on principle. a lie by omission is still a lie after all and bradley never exactly told you what he did for work…

OR you take on the us military industrial complex one hinge date at a time…well sort of

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, and slight dom/sub and praise and rank kink elements), idk basically she’s a bit of a brat? and he likes it? it’s kind of filthy, but it’s supposed to be kind of funny and a little silly?

A/N: thanks to everyone who liked the sneak peek and provided such positive feedback! but i really have to give a shout out to my buddy sol (desertsagecelestial) for being the absolute best sounding board with this fic! definitely check out her wip, it’s amazinggggg. anyway, enjoy! (9.9k) Part 1.5

Continuar lendo

15/08/2022: HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!! i’m going crazy over this story, your writing flows so easily to me and i love their relationship!!! the fact that they’ve been together for 6 months since part 1 makes me very happy (the way i’m craving to know what they did together during this period of time, like how they developed together as a couple!!!!) but you REALLY weren’t kidding about the angst… i am in so much pain (but this is good!!! i loved getting her perspective!!!) this was beautiful and sad and you have such a way with words!!!!!! from dialogue to descriptions and setting a scene… just so much talent!!! i’m so glad i get to read your work!!! pls never stop <3

“There’s no way raw flour tastes that good,” you’d let out between your giggles, but he was relentless.

“Must just be you then…” i hate that you start with the cutest and most romantic stupid scene of all time only to shatter the atmosphere a couple of paragraphs later. cruel.

and bradley has a pasta maker!!! cute!!!

“and had taken to working longer hours when he was gone, pushing yourself to the limit to think about something, anything other than the fact that you hadn’t told your boyfriend of five months that you were in love with him yet.” ooooh now i’m curious to know when bradley said it (i’m assuming he said it first???and her reaction???)

“Instead, you’d merely blurted it out as he was making you coffee the next morning. He’d just smiled and said I love you, too - like it was so obvious that you were ever in any doubt and that he even needed to say it.” i hate this rear admiral person for ruining the moment and not letting her say i love you like she planned but i also love that bradley responds to it so easily later 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 he knows 🥺🥺🥺 we know 🥺🥺🥺

“- Sweetheart - ” my heart is starting to crack open!!!!!

“God, you were not a girl who cried easily.

(Lies, you just didn’t let anyone see you.)” she’s so real!!!! same!!!!

“contrary to popular belief, you did understand how important Bradley’s job was. And you understood what it meant for him and his career to be presented with an award at something like this. It wasn’t quite a Medal of Honor or anything like that, but it was still important. It would still mean something.

Something to Bradley. Which meant something to you.” SOMETHING TO BRADLEY!!!!! WHICH MEANT SOMETHING TO YOU!!!!! AND ISN’T THIS POSSIBLY ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP AND BEING IN LOVE?????????? and this is like extra special because we know she doesn’t like the military!!!! i’m crying!!!

and now she’s overthinking in the shower and crying and i’m so sad because i just know he has a plausible reason (i hope otherwise i will deactivate!!!!!!!)

“No, no, no. He would never do that. You couldn’t believe the thought had even crossed your mind. Bradley loved you. Bradley wanted to be with you. Bradley put up with all your neurosis and your late hours at the office and made you cum so hard you occasionally cried and held you in his arms all night.

Bradley loved you.

(Didn’t he? He’d said he did.)”

okay so many emotions here!!!!!!!! my favorite part!!! i think???? I LOVE YOUR WRITINGGGGGGG!!!! ❤️‍🩹

“Maybe you just wanted Bradley to love you like you loved him - openly and without restraint or abandon. You wanted him to love the you that he had first met. The strong, confident girl at the bar, who wasn’t afraid to call him out on his shit. Not the one who was so scared her boyfriend was going to break up with her that she had taken to savoring every last kiss, touch, and I love you between the two of you because you just knew it was going to end. He was going to end things.” but he does love you like you love him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so much pain!!!!!!

“Bradley loved you.

(Didn’t he? He had told you a couple weeks ago.)” this repetition is pure poetry and it is breaking my heart!!!!

“So, why hadn’t he asked you to go to this awards gala with him? Why didn’t he want you?” THE WAY SHE JUMPS FROM THINKING HE DOESN’T WANT HER TO GO TO THE EVENT STRAIGHT TO HE DOESN’T WANT HER PERIOD NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NO NO NO!!!!!!

“Bradley had moved your clothes from the vanity to the hooks right by the shower so you didn’t have to tiptoe across the room, tracking water along the way. The silly and inconsequential, but still stupidly thoughtful, action made your heart clench.” no because my heart is clenching too!!!!!!! favorite little detail!!!!!!!! it’s such a simple act but it feels like a white flag in here? he definitely knows she’s upset but didn’t want to push her!!!! so he does this little something 🥺

“Eventually, when you saw that Bradley had turned off the lights in the bedroom, you left your bathroom sanctuary and made your way across the other room, crawling into bed beside him. You burrowed your face in his chest, clinging onto him desperately as if you could will him to love you more.” the way i can visualize this entire scene in my head so vividly!!!! AND AS IF YOU COULD WILL HIM TO LOVE YOU MORE????? YOU DON’T NEED TO WILL HIM HE ALREADY DOES I KNOW THIS!!!!!! STOP THIS!!!!!

“Neither of you said anything, you just laid there, holding each other, his hand slowly rubbing your back, until you eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the steady beat of his heart reminding you that he was still there with you.” is this what they call hurt/a tiny little bit of comfort???? ajdhsyyxhshdhs loved the way you wrote this line. the beat of his heart reminding her he’s still there!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

and then as if we are not in enough pain you end it with “At least for now.” CRUEL.

i can’t wait for part 2!!!!!

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay (part 1.5/2)

Summary: in which bradley is getting honored with an award and his girlfriend tries to be there for him…even though her feelings towards the navy are complicated to say the least

OR you take on the pacific fleet’s awards gala

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

A/N: listen…even spunky, smart aleck girlfriends get down sometimes! so this little snippet is literally just angst (sorry!). but our favorite slutty couple will be back at it (literally) in all their depraved glory soon enough in part 2. takes place 6 months after Part 1. i wasn’t originally planning on showing anything from our best girl’s pov, but lord she needed to get this one out 😭 thanks to sol for all the encouragement and help on this one! (2.5k)

would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

Continuar lendo

18/08/22: HI!!! ME AGAIN!!! THIS TIME TO SCREAM ABOUT JAKE SERESIN!!!! may, i swear to god, how do you do this???????????? there is no oxygen left in in lungs. you outdo yourself again and again. the way you write jake makes me feels like i’m on a roller coaster. you understand him as a character so well (the day i have the capacity to make a full review of all parts of bad habit is coming soon and i know it’s gonna break me because you dissected him on that one, BEAUTIFULLY BY THE WAY!!!) this cowboy au has ruined me forever and i owe you my life for every story you put out for us to read.

“You flip the hat again and put it on. It’s big enough that it goes slipping down a few inches, almost covering your eyes.

Something on Jake’s face goes taut, his gaze darkens, the fist on the bartop clenches once then relaxes.” my brain is buzzing already. the way you set a scene. the way you describe everything!!!!!!! AND OH- OH- HE’S JUST AS AFFECTED BY THEIR INTERACTION!!!!! WHORE ❤️

“He’s silhouetted by the lights of the bar, bordered by the people crowding behind him to order, but you can’t see anything past the green in his eyes. He’s pushed so close he’s almost between your legs, your thighs like open brackets around the shape of him. The hand at the brim of the hat wanders down your back slowly before settling on the backrest of your stool. It’s not even a touch, just the allusion to it, but your heart goes pitter-patter in your chest.” yeah. you write poetry!!!!! this is poetry!!!!! and the use of “pitter-patter” was very on theme i loved it.

“You don’t know what to say to that - your cheeks feel kind of warm, and your brain is buzzing like a beehive.” exactly the same way i feel when i read your work coincidentally!!!

“You’re a cute one, huh?” he says, voice only a little mocking. He leans into your space, crooked grin so close to you that you can see the stubble forming along his cheeks and jaw, a golden dusting of hair against the sun-kissed skin. For a breathless, head-spinning moment, you think about how it would feel pressed to the inside of your thighs, raspy and tickling and just the right side of painful.

He rights the hat, pushes it higher up on your forehead, and then his hand travels to the back of your neck, stays there. His thumb brushes from the brim of the hat to the knob of your spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You let out a shuddering breath, legs clenching.” JESUS CHRIST. HIS HAND TRAVELS TO THE BACK OF YOUR NECK!!!!! STAYS THERE!!!!!! HIS THUMB!!!!!! I JUST DIED!!!!!!

“He laughs, the sound a little heavier than it was before, and says, “You ever dreamed about any of those, too?”

It’s crude, it’s forward, it’s an innuendo so thinly-veiled it’s pretty much translucent. It should make you balk.” JAKE SERESINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. I HATE HIM. I HATE YOU FOR WRITING HIM LIKE THIS. HOW DARE YOU?

“Anything I could make come true?” he asks.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 STOP.

“It’s an offer as much as it is an out. If you pull back now, you’re pretty sure he’d leave you alone. Jake is forward, confident, sure, but he doesn’t seem like the pushy type. For some insane reason, you feel safe with him.” yes to everything here. beautiful. he’s a prince. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“It starts as a tingle, as pins and needles, and when you look down, you find Jake’s hand on your thigh, just above the knee. Fingers splayed wide, radiating heat. As your heart rate kicks up a notch, you squirm in your seat.” IT STARTS AS A TINGLE!!!!! AS PINS AND NEEDLES!!!! IMAGERY 11110/10 AS ALWAYS. AND THE HIS FINGERS AGAINS PLS DO NOT DO THIS TO ME. favorite lineeeeeee!!!

“See, there’s this rule, sugar,” he says and leans even closer. For a second, you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he just goes on, “You steal the hat, you ride the cowboy.” there is absolutely no rule he is lying to his teeth but i’ll allow this.

“Your brain implodes.” YEAH. NO SHIT.

“Part of you wants to say no. Let Jake take you home or to a bathroom stall or to the back of his pick-up. Make good on that rule you’re not sure he didn’t just make up. Give into the insistent thrumming of want in the pit of your stomach.” YEARNINGGGGGGGGG. their interactions feel so magnetic because of the way you describe them. very insane of you.

“So you clear your throat, slide off the barstool, and right into his arms. For a second, you’re chest to chest, stomach to stomach, then you’re stepping away, wondering distantly just how flustered you look and taking the hat off.” CHEST TO CHEST!!!! STOMACH TO STOMACH!!!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!

“He waves back silently, then casts another long, lingering look at you that makes your heart miss a beat or two.” PLEASE GUYS GO TO THE BATHROOM STALL THERE IS STILL TIMEEEEEEEEE

incredible and showstopping as always. i’m fearing for my life because of part 2. you’re the best ever.

dime store cowboy . hangman

PART TWO

pairing ; cowboy!jake seresin x female!reader

synopsis ; jake teaches you about the cowboy hat rule.

wc ; 2k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; explicit language, non-explicit sexual content (it's just flirting)

note: YEEHAW PARDNERS.......... i'm so obsessed with this i'm gonna cry, thank you forever to the anon who requested this. also what if this becomes a series what then WHAT THEN. sorta modified the title from that one kacey musgraves song lol.

sol. sunderlust. you already know what i'm gonna say thank you for being my bestie :(

The whole thing is Carrie Underwood’s fault. You’ll go to your grave swearing it.

It’s just that you’re three strawberry margaritas deep, the lights in the bar are all dimmed, all neon, all flickering, and Jake is leaning into your space like he’s trying to smell your perfume, smiles at you like he’s completely charmed, and then somebody starts playing Before He Cheats on the jukebox and your brain just sorta like. Short-circuits.

The song always gives you an unwarranted burst of confidence, makes you feel like you, too, could vandalize a cheater’s car in a flurry of righteous wrath, so it’s not that difficult to reach up, lifting half out of the bar stool, face suddenly just an inch from his, and steal his hat. The fabric is surprisingly soft beneath your fingers.

At first, Jake looks surprised, his mouth twitching in amusement.

“What you trying to do with that, sugar?” he asks.

And the thing is this. You’re new in town and decidedly more urban (cosmopolitan, you’d like to say, but really, who are we kidding here?) than the rest of the crowd. It’s all a bit strange, all unfamiliar, but when your co-workers invited you out for a Friday night of drinks at the local bar, you were beyond grateful. It was supposed to be a nice little get-together among people who would hopefully become friends. You didn’t expect a guy who looks like he could be Mr. August in a calendar dedicated to half-naked hot cowboys doing various types of manual labor to walk up to you and start flirting like his life depends on it.

At least you think he’s flirting…? You’re not that well-versed in this whole thing.

You shrug, hope you look more confident than you feel.

“When I was little,” you say, turning the hat over and peeking at the inside, where a label proudly states Property of J. Seresin. You let a finger run over it, tracing the shape of his name. “I used to dream about being a cowgirl.”

You flip the hat again and put it on. It’s big enough that it goes slipping down a few inches, almost covering your eyes.

Something on Jake’s face goes taut, his gaze darkens, the fist on the bartop clenches once then relaxes.

“Did you, now?” he asks, his voice suddenly lower, and he takes a step closer. His hip knocks against your knee where you’re angled toward him, every point of your body unconsciously straining closer during the conversation. He tips the hat back an inch or two from your forehead, clearing your vision, and looks down at you, searches your face for something. “Looking good.”

He’s silhouetted by the lights of the bar, bordered by the people crowding behind him to order, but you can’t see anything past the green in his eyes. He’s pushed so close he’s almost between your legs, your thighs like open brackets around the shape of him. The hand at the brim of the hat wanders down your back slowly before settling on the backrest of your stool. It’s not even a touch, just the allusion to it, but your heart goes pitter-patter in your chest.

“Do I?” you ask, breath hitching, legs bouncing with the nerves of it all.

You just don’t do this sort of stuff. Flirting with people, letting strangers chat you up in bars, going along with the quips and the banter and the coy touches… you’re so out of your element. And even Carrie Underwood and her misplaced pep talks have deserted you now. She just threw the match, and then she hightailed it out of here. Traitor.

Jake nods. “You’re real pretty, sugar,” he says. “I especially like the hat with that dress.”

You glance down at yourself and grin. The dress is decidedly too much for a joint where everybody else seems to show up in denim or flannel. You’re just glad you skipped heels in favor of sneakers to dress the whole thing down - you would have stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of cowboy boots.

“This isn’t really… saloon appropriate, is it?”

He laughs, and the sound of it warms your chest. “Not exactly,” he agrees. “But I like it. It suits you.”

“How so?”

Jake lifts a shoulder in a shrug, something unreadable playing about his mouth. “Makes it look like you’re not from here.”

You frown and ask, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Sugar,” Jake chuckles, and the sound of that stupid, ridiculous pet name sends a shiver down your back, “that’s just about the highest compliment I could ever give a girl.”

You don’t know what to say to that - your cheeks feel kind of warm, and your brain is buzzing like a beehive. 

“I can’t really… see in this thing,” you mumble, tugging at the brim that keeps slipping. Suddenly a little frail.

Jake laughs again, and you decide that you don’t just like the sound - you love it. 

“You’re a cute one, huh?” he says, voice only a little mocking. He leans into your space, crooked grin so close to you that you can see the stubble forming along his cheeks and jaw, a golden dusting of hair against the sun-kissed skin. For a breathless, head-spinning moment, you think about how it would feel pressed to the inside of your thighs, raspy and tickling and just the right side of painful.

He rights the hat, pushes it higher up on your forehead, and then his hand travels to the back of your neck, stays there. His thumb brushes from the brim of the hat to the knob of your spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You let out a shuddering breath, legs clenching.

“So you dreamed about being a cowgirl, yeah?” he asks, withdrawing his hand and taking a swig of his beer.

You blink a few times until your vision goes from blurred to focused. Then you clear your throat. “Yeah, like… in elementary school, I think.”

“What’s your opinion on cowboys, then?”

You shrug, turn your upper body sideways to finger the stem of your cocktail glass. “I suppose they have their uses.”

He laughs, the sound a little heavier than it was before, and says, “You ever dreamed about any of those, too?”

It’s crude, it’s forward, it’s an innuendo so thinly-veiled it’s pretty much translucent. It should make you balk.

But there’s something about the night. The music, the drinks, the boy. The heat of the summer outside and the thrill of a new town and a new dress and a new life. It all makes you feel a little bit dangerous, a little bit sexy, a little bit loose. Maybe just for one night, you can pretend to be someone else. Let your hair down.

“Maybe,” you say, hoping it comes off mysterious instead of guarded, closed-off, disinterested. You turn to take a sip of your margarita, and then, in a move so bold not even Carrie Underwood and her car-wrecking could claim it, you lick the salt off the rim of the glass.

When you glance up at him again, his pupils are blown so wide there’s barely any green left visible. He’s looking right at your mouth.

“Anything I could make come true?” he asks.

It’s an offer as much as it is an out. If you pull back now, you’re pretty sure he’d leave you alone. Jake is forward, confident, sure, but he doesn’t seem like the pushy type. For some insane reason, you feel safe with him.

“Depends,” you say. Your voice has gone so quiet you’re surprised he can hear you over the din of the bar. The song has changed, but you don’t recognize the tune. You can’t focus on anything except the man right in front of you anyway.

He doesn’t ask what it depends on, and you’re glad because you don’t have an answer for him. You’re playing this whole thing by ear, and apparently, your hearing is impaired.

It starts as a tingle, as pins and needles, and when you look down, you find Jake’s hand on your thigh, just above the knee. Fingers splayed wide, radiating heat. As your heart rate kicks up a notch, you squirm in your seat.

Jake raises his free hand and tips two fingers to the brim gently. “You know what this means, pretty girl?”

His thumb traces a path up the inside of your thigh, leaves goosebumps in its wake. Suddenly, your mouth is drier than the Sahara desert.

“What?” you ask stupidly. You feel like there’s an entirely separate conversation happening here, one you aren’t really following.

He smirks, but his eyes don’t move from your face. “It’s not really something good girls do.”

You’re distracted by the tuft of hair protruding from the unbuttoned collar of his flannel, the same color as his beard. You wonder if it stretches all the way down beneath the obnoxiously large belt buckle.

Your voice has gone airy. “Why not?”

He hums, fingers traveling just a little higher up on your thigh, almost creeping beneath the fabric of your dress now. You hope you’re not sticky with sweat. It’s so hot in here. But then his fingernails scrape over your skin, the softest of touches, and that thought dissipates along with any other.

“See, there’s this rule, sugar,” he says and leans even closer. For a second, you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he just goes on, “You steal the hat, you ride the cowboy.”

Your brain implodes. If you tried to get up right now, you’re pretty sure you’d keel right over.

“Does that really exist?” you ask, voice barely more than a whisper. He’s so close that you can smell his aftershave, can count the freckles scattered on his nose. So close if you just lean in an inch, half an inch, just a bit…

Somebody says your name, and you almost topple backward off the bar stool in your attempt to put distance between him and you.

Your co-worker stands a step behind you, eyebrow raised and a disapproving look on her face.

“I’m heading home now. You still need that ride?”

Part of you wants to say no. Let Jake take you home or to a bathroom stall or to the back of his pick-up. Make good on that rule you’re not sure he didn’t just make up. Give into the insistent thrumming of want in the pit of your stomach.

But there’s a rational part of you left, too, one that hasn’t drowned in margaritas or the green of Jake’s eyes yet. One that remembers who you really are, truly, beneath the thin veneer of tonight’s pretense.

So you clear your throat, slide off the barstool, and right into his arms. For a second, you’re chest to chest, stomach to stomach, then you’re stepping away, wondering distantly just how flustered you look and taking the hat off.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this,” you say sheepishly and hand it back to him.

Jake smirks, something in his eyes twinkling.

“Always happy to make a lady’s dreams come true,” he says, popping the hat back on. “Anytime, Ma’am.”

You grope around for your purse blindly, a lump in your throat that makes it impossible to speak. That and the fact that you have no idea how to answer that.

“Seresin.” Your co-worker nods at him.

He waves back silently, then casts another long, lingering look at you that makes your heart miss a beat or two.

“I’ll see you around?” you ask, voice trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

The corner of Jake’s mouth lifts in a grin. 

“You can count on it,” he says and tips his hat at you. “I believe you may owe me a ride.”

i wish i could feel the same way i felt when i read this for the first time. one of my absolute favorite pieces of writing ever. i think about it all the time.

COMPLETED (2/2)

Part One: “Devils Roll The Dice”

JJ and Y/N‘s friendship has been different since they secretly started hooking up. With new feelings stirred up by the recent change in their relationship, Y/N avoids JJ until the Pogues gather them together for a Fourth of July party that can only end in chaos.

Warnings: Implied sexual content, strong language, alcohol consumption, angst, implied physical abuse, and mild violence.

Word Count: 17k

Part Two: “Angels Roll Their Eyes”

Hurricane Agatha approaches Kildare Island during the aftermath of the eventful Fourth of July party. JJ and Y/N are determined to continue avoiding each other after what happened at the party, but John B, Kiara, and Pope have other plans for them.

Warnings: Smut, strong language, angst, implied physical abuse, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, and sickeningly sweet fluff.

Word Count: 24k

(gif: @jackpearcsn)

*shakes fictional character* where is the rest of your information I want to know more about you

28/12/22: JORDAN, YOU MADE ME CRYYYYYY WITH THIS ONE!!! GOD!!! i read it on christmas but have only been able to highlight my favorite parts now, it’s so long i basically just copy and paste the whole thing i’m SORRY but every line you write is BEAUTIFUL and i can’t help myself. it was such an angsty and cozy read for the end of my christmas night. just very perfect in every sense. smart alecks emotions are so real and palpable, you really take us there with her!!! and sweet bradley, no words for him. he deserves all the happiness in the world and i hope the navy never takes him away again during christmas. joe biden you will pay for your crimes.

“and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings.” AH YES BRADLEY COOKING. MY FAVORITE LITERARY GENRE.

“and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.” this little detail made me 🥹

"Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was.” oh 😭 way to break my heart.

“You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms.” smart aleck beloved :(

"You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October" THIS GALA KEEPS HAUNTING ME I CAN’T WAIT TO READ IT!!!

and then she starts spiraling again question if bradley loves her or not :(

“Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face.”

“Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist.” i love the way you make him ground her to reality again by wrapping his arms around her.

“Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left.” the intimacy of knowing each other so well that you can buy each other clothes. ALSO THE TRACEL SIZED BOTTLE OF HIS COLOGNE STOP ITS SICKENING SWEET

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired.” THE WAY YOU THROW IN LINES LIKE THIS SO SEAMLESSLY I CAN’T YOU’RE TOO GOOD AT THIS

“He wouldn’t be with you again until March.” STOP I’M GOING TO CRY

“Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant.” a perfect paragraph!!! it reveals so much about how anxious she feels about him being deployed. AND THE PREGNANT PART AT THE END I SEE YOU JORDAN

“And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.” 🥺🫶

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” I AM GOING TO K/LL MYSELF!!!!!! FAVORITE LINE!!!!!!

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been.” BELOVEDS!!!

“Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific.” i also adore this common agreement that bradley absolutely does surf. i saw a fanart of this months ago and i’ve never been the same.

“Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.” pls i adore this

“You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.” MY HEARTTTT

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.” YEAH ❤️‍🩹

“Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…” i’m reading this a second time and oh the foreshadowing i love it

“You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home.

And you wanted to be home all the time.” AND YOU WANTED TO BE HOME ALL THE TIME!!!!!!! GOD!!!!!! OK MAYBE THIS IS MY FAVORITE LINE!!!!!

“Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.” this was hilarious. comedy gold.

“You got it, rocketman.” THIS NICKNAME IS SO CUTE FOR HIM AND THERE’S THE WHOLE ELTON JOHN THING I AM UNWELL

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god.” OH GOD INDEED. JUST SO VERY PERFECT.

“But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.” WE ARE ALL ALLOWED TO BE A LITTLE SLUTTY SOMETIMES AND IT’S OKAY

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?” 😮‍💨

“Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.” GOOD FOR THEM!!!

"You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing." THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE WHEN HE BLUSHES!!!! THE PINK EARS ❤️❤️‍🩹🥹😭🫶🥲

"He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him." HE WANTED EVERYTHINGGGGGGG

“You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?” WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME!!!!!!!!

“Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.” ok i adore and live for little details like this, a glimpse into his personality that we don’t get unless you write it and it fits him so well!!! just perfect, jordan!!!

“Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.” we are NOT giving up on the bradley astronaut agenda anytime soon and i love that

“But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him.” stop this actually made me cry, i was sobbing during christmas night because of her breakdown

“Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THIS ONE BROKE MEEEEEE

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.” STOP

“He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased.

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass.” they are everything to me!!!

“Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

“No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight.” REAL AND GOOD AND YOURS!!!!

“Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you." SO MANY FAVORITE LINES I MEAN HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK JUST ONE?

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours.” PLS AS IF I HAVEN’T CRIED ENOUGH-

“Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

not the it’s a wonderful life comparisons are you trying to kill us????

“He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit.” HE FITTTTTTTTTTTT I CAN NO LONGER DO THIS-

AND THEY EMAIL EACH OTHER????? JORDANNNNNNNNNNN

this was perfect. as always. no words. thank you for this beautiful christmas gift ❤️🥲

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he get you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party. 

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party. 

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings. 

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect. 

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day. 

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was. 

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time. 

It was a good party. 

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you. 

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque. 

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. 

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger. 

Until Thanksgiving. 

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms. 

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone. 

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night. 

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous. 

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him. 

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. 

Bradley loved you. 

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him. 

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head. 

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night. 

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass. 

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -  

“- You good?” 

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. 

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again. 

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other. 

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. 

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March. 

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment. 

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then. 

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant. 

Three months, three months, three months. 

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” 

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair. 

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been. 

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room. 

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max. 

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.” 

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. 

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out. 

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased. 

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts. 

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. 

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet. 

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song. 

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck. 

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer. 

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays. 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home. 

And you wanted to be home all the time. 

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two. 

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked. 

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor. 

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!” 

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen. 

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -” 

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song. 

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance. 

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played. 

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god. 

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

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly. 

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things. 

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms. 

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there. 

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips. 

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something. 

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree. 

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!” 

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!” 

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes? 

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing. 

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag. 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him. 

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!” 

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.” 

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him. 

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor. 

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired. 

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” 

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier. 

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?” 

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth. 

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night. 

“Nice?” 

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest. 

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.” 

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know. 

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier. 

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.” 

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased. 

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass. 

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come. 

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you. 

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips. 

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit. 

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right. 

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways. 

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate. 

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock. 

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet. 

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight. 

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other. 

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. 

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.” 

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible. 

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips. 

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours. 

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.” 

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks. 

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light. 

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

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley. 

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley. 

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley. 

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it. 

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight  - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call. 

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit. 

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles. 

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit. 

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun. 

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time. 

Miss you and stay safe,

x

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope. 

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him. 

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.) 

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.” 

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year. 

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Callie and Javy were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ ​​@sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

college and my internship have been simultaneously kicking my ass!!! i just wanna lay down!!!

27/11/22: super quick adorable read!!! domestic bradley bradshaw will always be my favorite he’s so malewife it hurts me it pains me. he was born to be a husband!!! this was so cute and i could picture everything and i saw the little note where it said you haven’t written in 5 years, well, i for one am VERY HAPPY you decided to start again and share this with us!!! my favorite parts are below 💞

“Rooster hummed, looking up at you, small smile on his face. He’s been wearing that smile since he returned from his short detachment, happy to be in your presence again.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🤲🤲🤲 so precious!!!

“Rooster’s cheeks grew hot, and he was up off the couch to follow you out to your car, pinching your behind as you two went.” the little teasing because he likes to eat healthy 😭

“Rooster, who had the basket in his free hand, hummed in content as your thumb slowly rubbed his hand. “So why the sudden desire for cookies?” my favorite part!!! i could picture this so well!!! the basket in one hand and holding HER hand in the other!!!

and the way he was worried about her trying to reach the high shelfs by herself when he was gone 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“I’m really happy you’re home.” You admitted, having missed these late nights of domesticity and simple pleasures.” ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

hi pals! top gun: maverick has once again stolen my heart, but this time i need an outlet, so here i am! a more formal post will come sometime soon(ish) with who i’ll write for/what i’ll write, but for now, i leave you this <3

w/c: 

summary: late-night grocery shopping with rooster, female!reader

warnings: none

Continuar lendo

YOU HAD ME AT “BRADLEY GOES AS TED LASSO FOR HIS FIRST HALLOWEEN” HOLY SHIT DID YOU CRAWL INSIDE MY BRAIN????? ABSOLUTELY SHUT UP!!!!!! THE MUSTACHE!!!!!!! jordannnnnnnnnnnnnnnn i’ll never be over this. amazing, perfect, incredible, showstopping, i can keep going…

bradley being a boy’s dad!!!!!!! and a coach!!!!!!!!!!!! stop it!!!!!!!!!!!! AND JEALOUS!!!!!!!! and of course he gets handsy 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

bradley and smart aleck are my beloveds and i got a littleeeeee teeeenyyyy bit emotional about knowing they’re gonna have kids together one day!!! also: the mav mention <3

rooster jealousy fic 🥵🥵🥵

I want all of them

this probably isn’t what you imagined BUT it takes place in an eventual universe where bradley and smart aleck have kids. and yes in my dreams bradley goes as ted lasso for his first halloween with smart aleck and it kinda evolves into peewee soccer coach bradley bradshaw when they have kids since his girl digs it so much (it’s the fucking mustache i stg) - enjoy???

ask prompt

"Did you see that? You saw that, right?"

Bradley sputtered, frantically pointing across the soccer field to where you were chatting with Max's dad, Zach.

Fucking Zach. Bradley hated Zach. And his stupid crisp button downs and his smarmy face and his shiny loafers and his ridiculous fucking Shelby Cobra that was in no way safe for a child to ride in, unlike Bradley's family-friendly Land Rover. Plus, his son, Max, was a biter.

But more importantly, Bradley hated the way Zach got so close to you to talk about emerging markets or stock options or some shit like that. Fucking prick.

Beside him, Gil frowned. "See what? Mommy?"

"Yes, mommy," he sassed the five year old, not taking his eyes off you from behind his aviators. Wait, was he - no, he did not just put his hand on -

"- TWEEEEEEEEEET," Bradley blew the whistle hanging around his neck, causing his small battalion of five year olds to immediately freeze where they were aimlessly running on the field. If it also caused Zach to retreat his hand from where it was about to touch your arm then that was just a happy coincidence.

"Alright," Coach Bradshaw clapped his hands together a couple times, rounding up the troops, "good job today everyone - especially you, Maddie S, that flower crown looks dynamite on you, wanna see that energy on Saturday for our game against the Yellow Frogs, alright?"

Maddie S preened under the praise, while the rest of the kids nodded seriously. "We gotta keep that defense tight - that means no getting distracted by Jacob R, okay Emily? Yeah, heard about you at nap time the other day, little grabby for kindergarten, I think? That being said, I think Mrs. Armstrong brought orange slices and apple juice if you all want to head over for your snack - "

They dispersed without another word, except Gil, who was drawing what Bradley thought was a - dinosaur? a dog? he didn't really know - on his play whiteboard. He hazarded a glance across the field to see that you still were talking to Zach. God, your ass looked fucking perfect in your work skirt. How the hell you weren't sinking into the grass with those heels of yours?

"Hey, buddy?" Gil looked up. "Why don't we pack up all this stuff and go get mommy? Think she's talking to Max's dad..."

Gil made a face. “I don’t like Max -”

“- Well, I don’t like his dad,” Bradley muttered, hoping Gil didn’t hear, but the little boy giggled. 

The two Bradshaw men made quick work of picking up all the cones and practice pinnies and tossing them into a mesh bag along with the five or so soccer balls. Gil tried to carry the bag, but ended up dragging it, so Bradley picked it and Gil up and made his way across the field to you. The kid was too old to be picked up, but it made getting over to you quicker - Gil had short legs.

While Bradley and Gil had been cleaning up, Emily K’s dad, Adam, had joined Zach’s little tete-a-tete with you. Of course, none of them had their kids with them. Fucking typical. Emily was probably aimlessly walking around with orange juice dripping on her cleats. Bradley scowled as he approached the group, while Zach tossed him a quick wave. 

“Hey, Brad.” Bradley fucking hated being called Brad. 

“Hmmm, hi.”

You turned around at the sound of his voice and a huge smile lit up your face once you saw Bradley and Gil. 

“Mommy!" Gil squirmed in Bradley’s arms until he put him down, wanting to be let go.

“Hey, little man!” You ran your hands through Gil’s hair as he latched onto your legs in a hug. Suddenly, Bradley was jealous of his five year old and he gave you a longer than probably appropriate for six o’clock on a Tuesday kiss.

“Did you see me? I scored a goal!” Gil exclaimed, dancing on the spot.

You shot a quick glance over towards Bradley to double check. He nodded slightly, knowing you hadn’t seen that part of practice - and not because Zach and Adam had been monopolizing your time.

“Of course, I did! Amazing, as always, did daddy teach you that?” Gil giggled and then burrowed his face in the hem of your skirt when he realized there were two other men standing there.

Bradley took a step back towards you, resting his hand on the small of your back. You leaned into him and gave him a quick smile. “Zach was just talking about setting up a playdate with Gil next week - and then Adam thought maybe Emily could come over, too?”

Absolutely fucking not. The ink on Zach’s divorce papers was barely dry and Adam was - well, Adam wasn’t too bad and he probably had just wanted to see if Emily could have a playdate with Gil. They were in the same class, after all. And she wasn’t a biter. Even if she was a little handsy.

Bradley clicked his tongue. “You know, I think G-man’s a little booked up next week? We got a birthday party and then we’re gonna see Papa at the base.”

Gil looked up at him and his entire face lit up even though they were doing nothing of the sort - well, at least not yet. Clearly, when Bradley called Mav later, he would understand and extend the invite.

“Ahhh bummer. We were just exchanging numbers,” Zach nodded towards you, “so, maybe we can do something the week after?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said politely, “maybe next - ahh - week?”

Zach and Adam frowned at your sudden exclamation, but what they hadn’t seen was Bradley slide his hand underneath the waistband of your skirt and lace panties and dig his fingers into the top of your ass. Or the way he started drawing little circles with the pads of his fingers and dragged his nail down your spine. You swallowed.

He could see the goosebumps rising on your arms. Thankfully, your backs were both to the field and not the mass of parents and five year olds eating oranges.

“We uhh, we can work out the details on - Satur-day?” you stuttered out as Bradley dug his fingers into a rather sensitive knot on your back. 

“Sure, that’s fine...guess we’ll see you two around then?”

Bradley smiled at the two men for the first time since the conversation had started, but his good mood was more attributed to your slightly heaving chest, which he had perfect view of thanks to his height advantage. “Have a good night.”

With a brief glance back at the three of you, the two men set off to find their children - which they should have been keeping an eye on in the first place. Bradley retracted his hand.

You bit your lip and glanced up at him. “So, Coach Bradshaw, you gonna make me stay after practice for some one-on-one training? Promise I’ll try harder..."

“Nah, I got you booked for a private session later.” He leaned forward and kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist, while you clasped yours around his neck. God, you smelled so pretty - he’d take you on the goddamn soccer field right now if there weren’t about twenty parents and five year olds around them.

Bradley only came back to himself and pulled away when he felt a slight tug on his joggers. He looked down at Gil. 

“Daddy? Can we get ice cream since I scored a goal? Please?”

A wicked smile crept across your face. “Yeah, daddy, can we get ice cream?”

Bradley threw back his head and groaned. God, you were fucking killing him tonight. He shot Gil an amused look. “If you can carry this bag,” he nodded towards the mesh bag at his feet, “all the way to the car, then we can get ice cream.”

Gil considered this and then grabbed the bag with his little hands. “Okay, I can do it! I can do it!”

The two of you laughed watching him slowly drag the bag across the grass and towards the parking lot. Bradley threw his arm around your shoulders pulling you close. 

“So, Zach’s dad, huh?”

“Hmmm.”

“What do you mean hmmmm! I could see him making eyes at you from all the way across the field -”

“- He was not!” you protested.

Bradley snorted. “And you just happened to wear that tight little skirt to come to practice, huh?”

“Noticed that, did you - Gil, wait until your father and I catch up before going into the parking lot!” You glanced back up at Bradley. “I like when you get jealous, bubs, it’s cute -”

“- Cute!” He scoffed. “Hardly -”

“- Well, I suppose that’s not true, you were practically groping my ass on the field - isn’t that a Title IX violation or something?”

Bradley groaned. “Sweetheart, at least wait till we get home to start the dirty talk.”

“I make no promises - coach.” You winked and then walked ahead to meet Gil, shaking your hips with every step. “I’ll take Gil to Dairy Queen and we can meet you at home?”

Bradley stopped by his car. “You want ice cream, too?”

You turned around and scrunched your nose. “Not really, I actually have other plans in mind for dessert tonight...” Bradley groaned. “See you at home, daddy.”

thanks for reading x