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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

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Sweet Nothings

☑︎ Next Chapter | Sweet Nothings Masterlist

☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)

☑︎ Word Count: 5.3 k

☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, Y/n mom is a bitch

☑︎ A/n: I'm so excited to share this one with you guys, and I hope you love it just as much as I do.

☑︎ Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

You can’t seem to stop the shake in your leg while you sit on the bed, and as your hands run across the comforter you pick off a stray piece of lent. Your eyes dart back to the bathroom door, and the pregnancy test that sits on the counter waiting. The little pink and white stick is a hard contrast against the marble countertop, and you can’t help but glare at it.

It had been 4 weeks since your last treatment, and while the doctors said you would get a positive or negative test by the second week, you couldn’t help but wait. As if the extra two weeks would make the embryo take and you would finally be pregnant.

You and Jake had been trying to have a baby for, four years. Just after your one-year anniversary, you both decided that you were ready and that having a little one running around was the next step. You had been 26 and Jake was 28, it felt like the perfect time. Jake was doing amazing in his career and has been permanently stationed at Top Gun. While you had just been hired on as the kindergarten teacher at Bay Park Elementary. Everything was falling into place, just like you had both planned.

Though after the first year and a half with no success naturally, your OBGYN suggested IVF. She had told you that due to your irregular ovulation pattern you would have trouble the natural way and that IVF would fix everything. That was two and a half years ago, and you were now on your third treatment. Each of the past two ended in failure, and with the third result waiting in the bathroom, you didn’t know if you really wanted to check.

Jake had gotten up this morning for an early run, while you enjoyed the fact that it was Saturday, and you could sleep in for a little bit. Though the need to pee came only moments after Jake was out of the house and now you couldn’t go back to sleep. In the five-minute time span, you were supposed to wait, you had made the bed, eaten breakfast, and started a load of laundry. The recommended five minutes quickly turned into twenty and now you were silently sitting and staring from afar.

You knew that Jake would be home soon, his run usually took thirty to forty- five minutes depending on which route he took, and you didn’t need him walking in on you. You hadn’t told him that you were going to take a pregnancy test, and he never pushed you to. Jake had been wonderful through the whole ordeal, helping with the medication injects that “boosted” your ovulation and he had never missed an appointment. And yes, while your father might have been in charge of the Dagger Squad, he didn’t give Jake any special treatment… Well, not a lot and Jake always made sure to figure out his days. Plus, it helped that the IVF hospital was on base, at the San Diego Naval Medical Center. Yet another plus of being married into the military, your insurance offers reduced fees for IVF. It was still expensive, but cheap enough that you had been able to save for each treatment.

Though the grim outlook was the fact that usually after your third treatment, doctors suggested looking into other options. That was another reason you were avoiding the test, you didn’t think you could mentally or physically go through another round of IVF, even with added ideas.

The last four years had been a continuous loop of your body failing you and Jake. He never said it, God he would never. Jake treated you amazingly, but the small nagging voice in the back of your head played the words on repeat. You were a failure as a woman.

You glance at your watch once more, 7:32 am, Jake would be back anytime. It was now or never. You reluctantly push yourself from the comfort of your mattress and quite literally drag your feet to the bathroom. The tile floor has a shiver running up your spine and you silently curse the cooling weather.

It’s sitting upside down on the counter and you just stare at it for a moment. Hands twisting in anxiety as you slowly spin your wedding ring around your finger. The white stick sits there taunting you, begging you to look.

“Fuck it.”

Your hand snatches the test and flips it over before you can rethink the decision. Your fingers shake as you lift it, eyes zeroing in on the clear window where two pink little lines are supposed to be. A harsh breath leaves your chest, and you bite on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Your hands are working on autopilot, grabbing the test and wrapping it in toilet roll before tossing it in the small garbage can. You couldn’t look at the single line anymore. You had seen the exact same test results more times than you could count in the last four years and didn’t need to stare at it to know the answer.

Once again, your body had failed you.

Your hands gently brush across the side of your legs, before reaching forward to wash your hands. You dry them quickly, before glancing in the mirror and the small tear resting on your cheek has you releasing a harsh laugh. Your eyes fall shut as you suck your teeth in annoyance, before wiping the tear away and taking another deep calming breath. If it could work for your 5-year-olds, it could work for you.

“It’s fine.”

Your grasp the counter and roll back on your heels, then lean forward releasing another harsh breath. It wasn’t like your heart felt like it was breaking, nope defiantly not that feeling. Your hands harshly smack against the granite counter, and the palm of your hand stung. Though the pain is welcomed, anything that would distract from the ever-growing crack in your heart.

You hear the front door open and shut before Jake is calling out to you. You can hear his shoes padding along the hardwood floors, and you hate when another tear falls from you. You didn’t want to do this to Jake again. He never signed up for this, he wasn’t the broken one.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

Your voice cracks and you grit your teeth in frustration. You can feel Jake’s gaze through the mirror, though you really don’t feel like looking. Not when you feel like an utter failure. Your nose sniffles slightly and your hands against the counter tighten, turning your knuckles white.

Your eyes raise to look at Jake through the mirror, though before you can look at him you catch sight of your face. Tear stricken and the harsh gasp you were working so hard to hold in falls. Your chin immediately falls back into your chest as a sob breaks from your lips, and before you know it Jake’s grasping onto you. He’s dripping in sweat, but you could care less, and you fall into his chest as he rocks you. One hand traces up and down your spine, while the other weaves in your hair to hold you as you sob. Every breath is followed by a harsh sob, and you can’t stop the words as they release.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

“No, baby. No.”

Jake’s hold on you tightens, as he lays kiss after kiss across the top of your head. You pull away slowly and the hand in your hair comes to rest against your cheek. His thumb rubs small circles and a shuttered breath has you fighting against the way your lips beg to tremble.

“It was negative.”

You watch as a forced smile tugs at his lips and the small tear that traces down his cheek, has you reaching a hand up to brush it away. Your thumb moves over the stubble on his cheek and you give him a small smile, that surely looks like a grimace.

“I love you.”

His words break your heart because it was one thing that you always knew, no matter what Jake would always love you. Even when you feel like he shouldn’t. You gently push up on your toes and place a soft kiss on his lips. It’s short and sweet, but just what you both needed. You settle back on your feet, while Jake cradles your face in both hands and places a kiss on your brow.

“I love you,” Another small unsteady breath falls, “and even though you say you don’t need it. I am s–” Jake’s hand stills your trembling lip as another onset of tears falls. “I am so sorry, that I can’t … I can’t give you a baby.”

The words all but leave your chest before you crumble to the floor as Jake grasps onto your shaking form. His arms wrap around you to pull you into his chest, as sweet nothings are whispered into your hair and you once again, wait for the tears to dry.

…

“Daniel, wait for your mom to cross the road.”

You were on pick-up duty this week and while the older kids were wonderful at waiting inside the school grounds for their parents, your 20 little ones always seemed to slip passed the gate. You wave back to Mrs. Johnson as she takes hold of Daniel's hand. A sigh leaves your body as you glance around and find the school yard nearly empty. 8 of your kids rode the bus and that was the 10th pick-up of the day, now you just had to wait for the twin's foster mother.

The cool wind of the November day cresses your body and causes you to shiver. You might have lived in San Diego, but that didn’t stop the recent set of lower-than-75-degree days you had been having. A sudden grip on your pant leg is followed by what you could only describe as a mini human heater and as you glance down your eyes meet a pair of icy blue ones belonging to one-half of the twins.

“Hi Gray, where’s sissy?” Your hand gently strokes through his sandy blonde hair, to push back the stray pieces that fall over his forehead.

“Laine went back inside. She was cold and I told her that she couldn’t go whifout you, but she not listen.”

A small shutter racks through his chest, and you have to hold your tongue when you see his evident lack of a jacket. Their foster parents weren’t exactly your favorite people, and you had learned firsthand that they were only keeping the twins for the cheque at the end of each month.

It was at the beginning of the school year, not even the second week in and you noticed immediately that the twins were only rotating through 3 sets of clothes. You had gone to visit Mrs. Adam’s, the school's Head Teacher, and she had explained the situation.

It was their 12th foster home in the last 5 years, and while you found them to be perfect little angels, sometimes crazy, but still angels others did not. You had tried to reach out to their foster parents, but after a phone call that ended in you crying, you didn’t bother with them anymore. You had tried to leave it alone; it wasn’t your place to pry, and you knew that the kids were physically safe.

That answer came from Madelaine, she was a talkative five-year-old that honestly reminded you of Jake, and most days she would chat with you about different things she had learned, mostly in concern to the ocean and its sea life. Though one day, out of nowhere she had come to sit with you and Grayson on the playground bench during recess and told you, “He likes you cause you are nice and warm. Plus, you don’t push us like Mr. Meanie's face did.” It had stunned you for a moment, while Laine wasn’t affected by the words, little Gray had gone ridged at your side and clasped onto your hand. You had questioned her and found out that it was one of the other 12 foster homes. You didn’t push for specifics, not wanting to upset either of them, though Laine had told you that they only got in trouble when Gray did something wrong.

“He doesn’t mean to. Sometimes his eyeballs just go funny.”

Your gaze moved between the two of them, a questioning look on your face, before asking Gray to explain. That was how you had figured out he needed glasses, lucky the school provided testing, and not even two days after the test, you had him in a little pair of wire-framed glasses. You had him pick them out the day he had the testing, and without a second thought, you bought them.

You buying them things had become a regular occurrence. While the kids didn’t know it was you giving them clothes, Mrs. Adams made sure that they had whatever you gave her. Though now looking at Grayson you curse yourself for not thinking of “winter” coats before and mentally add it to the list to pick up when you and Jake are next at the mall.

“Come on my darling, let’s go find Miss Madelaine.”

Gray unwinds from your tan pant leg, before grasping your hand and tugging you forward. You glance behind you, up and down the road to check if their car is anywhere in sight, and find an empty street. You and Grayson make your way back into the school, stopping to ask Ms. Reynolds to call their foster parents, before heading down to your classroom.

“Did you know when a plane goes like this,” The hand not holding yours reached up and turns over, with his palm facing up. “it’s called in– inverturd”

You glance down at the little boy as he slightly adjusts the glasses on his face while waiting for your reply.

“Inverted, Gray. With an ‘e’”

You found out recently that while at home the kids either watched tv or played on a shared tablet, from an anonymous individual this last month. The twins weren’t allowed to go outside, and the pair barely had any toys, which left them to learn all sorts of things.

You learned early on in the school year that the Gray loved planes and watched an array of war movies. While Laine loved the ocean and watched the discovery channel quite religiously. The fact that they were watching movies and shows not explicitly meant for children had your gut twisting, but they had told you that the house didn’t have children’s channels. So, the next best option was military films and shark week, Laine’s favorite. That had come directly from Laine after she explained that they were learning at least unlike other kids, she was the bona fide sassy one of the pair.

Your classroom comes into view, the fall-decorated door stands ajar and Madelaine sits at your desk eating a pack of gummies. She has both hers and Gray's backpacks sitting on the floor, while she hums along to the music coming from the Alexa on your desk.

“Good job bringing Ms. CeeCee, Gray.” You glance down at the small boy still grasping your hand, his eyes remain on his sister though a big smile spreads across his face. Laine wiggles another bag of gummies at Gray, and he drops your hand, quick to grab the snack from his sister.

“Miss Laine, what do you think you’re doing in here?” You try to appear stern though a smile breaks across your face as she gives you a toothless grin. Her middle bottom tooth had fallen out just last week, and it made her smile all the more cute.

“I was cold, and Janice wasn’t coming anyway. She never does.” The small grimace she gives you makes your heartache.

“I know, but I’m here and we can do some crafts while waiting. Ms. Reynolds in the office is trying to call her.”

…

You glance up at the clock and see that it's nearing 5 pm. You glance back to the twins and find Grayson meticulously gluing things to his paper in a pattern. While Madelaine has used every color of feather you have, on a crown that now rests on her head. You didn’t mind staying after with the kids, what was frustrating was the lack of care that their “parent” was displaying.

“I’m just going to go see if Ms. Reynolds has heard anything, you two be good while I’m gone.”

Gray only nods in reply as his tongue peeks out between his lips in concentration. Laine gives you a cheeky smile, followed by a ‘mkay.’ Your shoes click against the tile floors, and you wave to Mrs. Rogers, the 5th-grade teacher, that’s shutting off lights for the night.

The office isn’t far from your room, and you find a frustrated Mrs. Adams that’s sitting and talking with Ms. Reynolds. They glance at you at the sound of you knocking on the door frame, and you already know the answer.

…

Jake had gotten off a little early, the team had run drills all morning and then Jake was stuck doing paperwork. He was more than happy when he finished that last of the paperwork at 4:30 and decided to leave early.

He slips in the truck, though before he can head out there’s a knock against his window. Jake glances over, before rolling down the window for Mav. Jake had been surprised when he got called back for the Dagger Squad and even more surprised to find out that his father-in-law was in charge. You had been married for just over a year when Jake got called back to Top Gun and you both couldn’t have been happier to come back.

“Have you talked to Y/n yet?”

The older man sighs while leaning up against the truck, he grabs the ball cap from his head while running his hand through his hair. He was clearly stressed about something, and it had to have occurred in the last 4 hours because Maverick had been perfectly fine this morning.

“No, I was just about to call her about dinner. What’s up?” Jake questions slightly confused.

“She must be ignoring Lanell. The woman’s called me twice today, wanting to know about the last round of treatment.”

A harsh sigh leaves Jake at the mention of your mother. Lanell was an interesting woman, to say the least, and your relationship was almost nonexistent. She had a habit of putting you down, and during the last treatment, she had said some unforgivable things about your lacking ability.

“Y/n blocked her and she’s lucky that’s all that happened.”

Mav’s brow furors slightly in question and leans farther into Jake’s truck.

“Lanell told Y/n that unless she got pregnant, she was a failure as a woman.” Jake’s head slightly shakes, still astounded by what your mother had said. “I don’t hit women, but by God, I wanted to lay her out.”

Mav slowly blinks at Jake, before dropping his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. A harsh laugh falls from the man, followed by a deep breath before he’s looking back at a less-than-happy Jake.

“Every time she calls me, I regret having a child with her. Why couldn’t I have just been smart from the beginning and had Y/n with Penny.”

Another laugh falls from Jake, as he shakes his head in agreement. With a nod, Mav is pushing off Jake’s door and tells him that he will handle your mother.

The drive home isn’t long, and the chill of the day is crisp and exactly the type of weather Jake loved. Living in California didn’t exactly mean that there was a fall and having days like these made Jake miss the cool weather.

Pulling into your drive, Jake notices your missing car and reaches for his phone to call you. Even when Jake got off early, if it was after 4:30 you were usually home before him. There had been times in the past, but they were few and far between.

…

The buzzing causes the whole table to shake and has both of the kids looking up from their current art projects. Their eyes bounce from the phone and back to one another. Madelaine is reaching for it before Grayson can stop her, as a teasing smile followed by a giggle erupts from her.

“You shouldn’t touch Ms. CeeCee’s phone, that’s not nice.”

“It’s not nice to ignore phone call’s either.”

Gray falls silent at the comment, before glaring at his sister and going back to his beads. Laine does a small dance in her chair in victory, before pushing the green answer button.

“Hello.”

“Ummm, Hi”

“Who’s this.”

Grayson glances back at his sister and then to the door, in hopes that you’ll show up and take the phone from Laine. He didn’t want to get in trouble and would be completely fine with letting his sister take the fall for this.

“I’m Jake, where is Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’m Madelaine. Ms. CeeCee went to the office, but you can talk to me.”

A laugh echoes through the phone and a wide grin breaks across Laine’s face. Gray looks up when he hears the quiet laugh and finds his sissy with her tongue out at him. His own tongue pokes out at her before he gets up to move closer to the phone. Laine notices Gray’s sudden interest and brings the phone down to set it on the tabletop. The twins silently look at the phone’s call screen before Gray finds the speaker button and Jake’s voice echoes through the room.

“Mr. Jake, my bubba is here too. Gray, say hi.” She nudges at the boy’s shoulder, who only looks at her before shaking his head. “It’s not nice to ignore people Gray. How would you feel if Mr. Jake ignored us?”

A smile breaks across Jake’s face at the young girl, though makes sure he doesn’t laugh and waits for Grayson to speak.

“Hi.” His voice is small and it’s only a little peep from him, but Jake’s heart aches at the sound of the pair together.

Before Jake can say anything else, he hears a high-pitched squeal followed by your laughter and the shuffle of the phone.

“Darlin?”

His voice is still on loudspeaker, the echo gives it away and his question is followed by two separate voices saying ‘yes?’ One is clearly your voice, while the other is undeniably the cheeky little spitfire that had been holding a full conversation with him. A full laugh falls from Jake and he can’t help but smile at how adorable both kids were, even if Grayson didn’t talk much. Jake just knew the pair of them were adorable, trouble, but adorable.

“Not the little darlin’, Ms. CeeCee Darlin’.”

…

You can hear the giggling of the pair before you even reach the door of your classroom, though you hadn’t expected to hear Jake’s voice ringing through the classroom. You walk in trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to interrupt the twins. Their art projects sit abandoned, while Laine sits up on her knees in a chair, leaning over your phone with the biggest smile on her face. Gray stands at her side, leaning against the table but looking between the phone and Laine before a small ‘hi’ is mumbled from his lips.

They are completely consumed with the conversation with Jake, which gives you the perfect distraction, so you can sneak up on them. You slowly walk across the room, making sure to avoid anything that would make noise. As you get next to them you almost laugh at how consumed they are, though you're quick to reach out and tickle them both on their sides. Gray only jumps as a small squeak is released, while Laine jumps full-on and releases a scream. Both kids spin around, their own hands coming out to tickle at you now and making you laugh.

Jake’s laugh is followed by him calling for you, though you weren’t prepared for Madelaine to answer as well. Gray silently laughs at your hip, while Laine wears a shameless smile that only grows when you shake your head. Your hand tracks through her long dirty blonde hair, it was a few shades darker than Grayson’s, though their eyes were the exact same shade of blue. You take the phone from the table and gently tell the kids to begin putting their crafts away, while you talk with Mr. Jake.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey, darlin’. You got the phone back from the twin terrors?”

His voice is teasing, and you can’t help the smile that crosses your lips as you watch them clean up. You listen to Jake and hum in answer to his question about dinner, though your main focus stays on the twins as they work in tandem perfectly together. You agree to pick up something on the way home, and that you shouldn’t be too late.

“Darlin’ did you hear me?”

The words pull your attention back to the phone call that you were still on.

“I’m sorry honey, I was just watching the twins clean up and get ready to go.” Your voice is soft and holds a longing that makes your and Jake’s hearts ache.

“They stayed late today, is everything okay?”

Jake knew bits about their story, though you tried hard not to bring your work home with you. The both of you already had so much going on that consumed your thoughts daily, that worrying about the twins more than you already did, would lead to disaster.

“Yeah, I will explain when I get home. I’m going to get them ready to go though, I love you.”

“I love you, darlin’. Drive safe, I’ll see you soon.”

You take a deep breath as you hang up, clearing your mind of the silent longing that the wish the twins were yours. That they were going home with you to Jake, in a warm loving home that always put them first. Though the thought only creates room for heartbreak and so you push it to the back of your mind as you get ready to leave.

…

You watch as Janice gets the twins in the car, though she doesn’t bother with helping them buckle, and a deep anger blooms in your chest. Though it’s eased as you see both kids get the latches in place, and a smile crosses your face when they wave to you with small smiles.

Your smile stays in place until the car disappears down the street, then it falls, and you wrap your arms around yourself as you make your way to your car. The cool air plays no part in how your heart clenches and the small squeeze you give yourself before getting in the car to head home.

The drive home was fast, given that it was late enough that the rush had already passed. The stop at the Italian place was even quicker and luckily easy, given that Jake had called your order in and you just had to pick it up. Your hip pushes against the car door causing it to close, as you hold the takeout in one hand and your school bag in the other.

A small smile graces your lips as you see the front door open, and Jake already has his hand out to take part in your load. He is quick to grab the steaming Italian food, but you reach up and pull him into a sweet kiss before he can pull away. The food and school bag sit in your hands completely forgotten, as Jake places a kiss on the top of your head as you rest against his chest.

He gives your hip a tiny squeeze before he pulls away to lead you into the kitchen. You drop your bag in the hall and kick off your shoes before following Jake. He’s already got the table set and you place a kiss on his cheek in thanks, as he places the different containers from the Italian place out.

The slow tune of Bing Crosby floats through the kitchen and you smile as Jake slowly hums along to the track. You skirt around each other, and after five years of marriage, you know each other like the back of your hand and work flawlessly together. A laugh falls from your lips as Jake’s arms wrap around your waist and turn you in his arms to dance along to the old vinyl.

“How’s my best girl doing?”

The words are spoken against your hair, and you hum as he spins you out, before bringing you back in his arms.

“I’m good.” Your words ring out though there’s a hitch in your words that has Jake waiting for you to continue while he sways you. “I just don’t understand. They don’t care about them; how can you just forget about picking up your children.” A small sniffle comes from you that has Jake pulling you back, and as his hand settles on your cheek your lips twist in annoyance. “She didn’t even check to make sure they were buckled.”

Tears gather in your eyes as Jake’s lips brush against your brow, and you can’t stop them as they start falling. His hand tracks across your face and sweeps the hair from your eyes to tuck it gently behind your ear. He watches you in silence, with a frown marring his face at the words.

Jake knew how much having a child meant to you, it meant just as much to him, but seeing you so heartbroken over it was almost worse than the actual fact. You had mentioned the twins to Jake before, though you never went fully in-depth. Even without you telling him every small detail concerning their life, Jake knew how much they meant to you.

Hell, Jake knew that you had started buying them clothes, after finding a bag marked ‘twins’ in your car. After that, he may or may not, have gone out and got them a few things. Including the tablet that they so dearly loved. Jake had given the pile of items to Mrs. Adams one day and asked her not to tell you. The elderly woman only smiled at him and gave him a wink, before taking the items. Jake didn’t even know the children and yet he felt a connection with them. Having the call today only confirmed that they were absolutely perfect, hell raisers, but perfect.

You shuffle in Jake's hold and brush the stray tears from your face, while you lean back against the counter. You pull Jake with you and wrap your arms around his waist easily, silently toying with the band of his sweatpants.

“How is it fair that they get to have children and they don’t even care. Meanwhile, we try and try, and it never happens.” Another broken sob, “I would love them so much. I do love them so much, but they aren’t ours and they’re never going to be ours.”

The final words are no more than a whisper from your lips, but Jake hears them perfectly. The food on the table is easily forgotten as Jake pulls your whimpering form into his hold, in the only way that he knows how to comfort you. It wasn’t a problem that Jake could just fix and the harsh truth, that only time would tell, was not something he would ever get used to.

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jupitercomet · 7 months

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The Grow Apart

summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, mentions of drinking, mentions of suggestive themes, my limited knowledge of boxing, no use of y/n, Jake is 6'5" because I said so, I recommend that you read the orange butterfly before this chapter

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.4k

one new voicemail masterlist

You’d never been the most tech savvy person, you know that.

You understand the basic functions of your laptop and definitely aren’t hopeless. No one would ever call you technology deficient. But your knowledge ends with the essentials.

So when you overheard one of your coworker’s talking about the way she learned to delete her voicemails, you didn’t exactly question it.

“You just have to press *67 as soon as you’re finished and it’ll delete it. It’ll make it look like you never called.”

It didn’t seem like vital information at the time, but nights later, as you were sitting on your couch slightly drunk, watching The Fox and the Hound, it suddenly became much more useful. Unable to stop yourself, you called Jake that night, leaving a brief and somewhat tearful voicemail before typing out *67 and hanging up.

Admittedly, you were a little weary of your coworker’s tip—maybe you’d watched too many TV episode plots that revolved around tracking down someone to delete a voicemail off their phone. But you woke up the next morning with no questioning text from Jake. When a week had gone by and he still hadn’t reached out, you testingly left another voicemail.

You don’t entirely know when they became such an integral part of your daily routine, almost a voice diary you found yourself using on every walk home after work. But it became a comfort, a way for you to talk through your grievances with someone you used to think cared about them. It got so lonely in San Diego, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

You could talk about whatever you needed to and then delete it, without ever having to worry about Jake answering his phone either. Back when you were still dating, you learned that Jake had two phones—only keeping his older one in case people too far back in his past to have his new number ever tried to reach him. In the entire year you’d been together, no one but a telemarketer had called it and it stayed untouched in a drawer.

So you could cling to the first man you’d ever loved, like you wanted, and Jake could forget you ever existed, like he wanted. It was a win win.

“Hi, Jake. It’s me again— I feel like I don’t have to keep introducing myself, sorry. Today was pretty good. I got a lot of tips, so I think I’m finally gonna get new shoes. Even customers started noticing, it was really embarrassing.

I see my therapist tomorrow. She wants to talk about you, which I’m kinda nervous for, but it’ll probably be good for me. She’s been really helpful actually and she’s really nice when we work though stuff… I don’t know, I like to think you’d be proud of me for that.

I’m pretty sure it’s, like, 8:30 in Texas, so you’re probably at the gym right now. Unless you’re not— Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. But, um, what else?

Oh! I saw a dog that looked like Harley today. It was walking past the window at the diner with a cute bandana and I got a little excited... I miss him. I miss—

Anyway, I’m rambling so I’ll probably hang up now, but, um, I hope you had a good day. Bye, Jake.”

Jake’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles white as your voice cuts off in his headphones. He has to force himself to loosen his grip on his phone out of fear of breaking it, the old iPhone 6 was hardly durable as it is. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

He can still hear you in his head, your quiet voice, your soft breaths. He hates it. When he goes home, he’ll screen record your message so he can keep his voicemail box empty for you.

In truth, Jake had discovered your voicemails entirely by accident. Moving back to Texas eradicated his need for his second phone since he was now close enough that any friend or family who didn’t have his new number could probably just walk to his condo if they needed something. He’d completely forgotten about the phone for months until Javy’s sister said she was looking for an older phone to give to her son as he started 8th grade.

It took him hours to find, but when he did, the last thing he was expecting was notifications for no less than 10 missed calls and voicemails. Jake was even more surprised when he realized they were all from you. He listened to every one of them, as you talked through the highlights of your day. And the lowlights. For a moment, Jake could almost pretend you were still together.

But you weren’t talking to him—you were talking to the idea of him. Because that’s all you had. That’s all he left you.

Jake must have stayed up all night playing your voicemails over and over again.

The logical part of him, the part he usually listened to, told him to forget about it. He should just put the phone back where he found it, and let you reach the voicemail limit, and never think about it again. The logical part of him told him that clearly even you didn’t want him to listen to them and why would he want to listen to him anyway? Jake Seresin doesn’t get hung up on his ex.

And Jake suddenly carrying his old phone everywhere with him and recording every voicemail so he could still listen to them while keeping his mailbox empty was Jake not being hung up on you.

He’s allowed to still think about you, to still care about you. And that didn’t mean he regretted breaking up with you. Just because he always felt lonely, and started letting Harley sleep on the bed with him which he had never allowed before, and found himself wanting to pick up your call if only just to hear your voice in real time, didn’t mean he regretted it. It didn’t mean he thought it was the stupidest decision he ever made. And it wasn’t the reason he was so ready to move back to California.

“Dude.” Javy’s voice breaks him from his reverie, and Jake turns to see his best friend giving him an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the gym tonight.”

Jake tries to shake you from his head, sliding his old iPhone 6 discreetly into his gym bag. “Sorry. I was changing my music.”

He knows Javy doesn’t believe him, the other man just crossing his arms without a word. He has that look on his face, the one Jake sees quite frequently now, the look of wanting to step in but being hesitant to push him. Jake hates that look more than your voicemails.

“Dude… If you wanna talk about something—”

Jake rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t do that,” Javy points an accusing finger at him. “You’re doing that thing you do where you get mad at people for caring about you.”

“To get mad at you would require caring in the first place,” Jake walks away from his bag with a snippy tone.

Because Jake doesn’t care.

“I don’t know, I’d like to think you’d be proud of me for that.”

Jake doesn’t care that he is proud of you. He doesn’t care that it feels like a knife through the heart every time he realizes that he is now something you have to work through, that the pain he caused you is something you have to learn to let go of.

“I miss him. I miss—”

Jake doesn’t care that you miss him. It doesn’t rip him apart that maybe you don’t. It’s not like he has dreams where he’s with you, where he’s telling you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. He doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat, shaky fingers swiping through his phone before he plays one of your voicemails because your voice is the only thing that calms him down. He doesn’t do any of that because doing that would require him caring.

And Jake doesn’t care.

“Hey, Harley.” You give the dog a scratch behind his ears as he greets you excitedly, stubby tail thumping against your legs.

Harley prances after you as you walk further into the house, hanging up your jacket and dropping your purse on a chair like shedding those items will be enough to shake off the day. It’s not, you still feel drained, and you hope that Jake’s up for something from Charlotte’s tonight.

“Angel? That you?”

Jake’s voice drifts from the living room and you start heading in that direction. You’re mildly surprised he’s home at all, he spends most of his time at Maverick’s and you usually don’t see him until much later in the night. But it’s only 6:30 and he’s looking through his laptop as he sits on the couch.

“Sorry,” you move to sit next to him on the couch, the cushion in the middle feels like feet between you but you’re not quite courageous enough to move any closer. “I didn’t know you were home. I thought you’d be back later.”

Jake nods offhandedly, continuing to scroll through whatever is on his laptop. You hardly take offense to it, though no one would guess Jake is weirdly responsible and it’s a very real possibility he’s filing away things for your taxes or something. Instead, you pull out your phone, reveling in the quiet for a moment.

Though working at Knockouts paid the bills, it was by no means your dream job. It was loud and customers could be cruel and almost all your coworkers were looking for other work—or, at the very least, didn’t plan to stay there forever. Jake promised you that once his boxing career took off, you wouldn’t have to work there anymore. You could go back to school, and get your masters in English like you always wanted to.

That hasn’t happened yet though. And you can tell it frustrates Jake every time you come to his house exhausted or on the verge of tears that he’s still waiting for some big break to be able to provide for you. But you always try to assure him that it isn’t his job, that eventually he’ll find his footing and everything will be okay. You’ve gotten better at hiding the bad days from him.

In fairness, it seems like he has too. These past couple days he’s been scarce—more than usual—this is the first time in a long time that he’s been home before you’ve fallen asleep. You know he’s taking things more seriously at the gym, training more, winning more. He’s also going out partying with Javy a lot more too, it only stings a little that he doesn’t invite you.

It’s not like he hasn’t always been doing this, but something about this time around feels different. Like, this time, he knows something that you don’t.

“I think we should break up.”

Your phone falls from your hand and into your lap. “What?”

“I think we should break up,” Jake repeats, reaffirming that his words weren’t something you’d misheard. That they weren’t some nightmare you’re having while awake.

“I… I don’t— Why?” You swallow thickly, your chest feeling heavy as you try to understand what feels like a blindside on Jake’s part.

Jake sighs, looking up from his laptop. “Mav told me there’s a guy back in Texas that’s looking for fighters. The fighting scene isn’t as competitive there. This would be my shot.”

“You think we should break up because you want to move back to Texas?”

You don’t understand how Jake can be so nonchalant about this. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t want to go with him? But you would. You would go with him. You weren’t loyal to San Diego. Hell, you weren’t even loyal to California. It would take you a bit of time of course, you’d have to put in your two week notice and figure out how to sell your apartment—

“It’s huge for me, you know?” Though he sounds excited, he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. “And we really aren’t serious enough for long distance to make sense—”

Oh.

There was a part of you that was always a little wary of Jake. Of the guy you met at a bar, who called you “angel” before he called you your name. And maybe this was why. Because guys like that didn’t do serious relationships. But Jake had been loyal and yours for so long that you thought that, maybe, it was okay. Maybe it was okay to trust him. All squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.

You clear your throat, biting down on your lip harshly. “Right, um, that makes sense…”

There’s a flash of something in Jake’s eyes—maybe hurt—but it’s gone before you can know for sure. “I’ve been thinking about this for a bit and I just think it makes the most sense.” He laughs suddenly, but you can’t seem to find the joy in it like you used to. “It’s not like you were planning to spend the rest of your life with some underground boxer.”

You were, but it feels childish to admit now. Like Jake was just some fantasy and you’ve reached the end to find no happily ever after. You swallow thickly.

“I mean, this is a really big opportunity for you.” You’re grateful Harley is playing in the backyard, because he’d have certainly called you out on your clear distress if he were here. “So, you should do what you think is best.”

It’s silent for a moment as Jake stares at you, and you wish he would just say something. Because you don’t know what he’s thinking and you don’t know what he wants you to say. You’ll say it, whatever it is. You don’t know what he wants from you.

Jake wets his lips. “And we— I mean… We can still be friends.”

You knew what that meant. He’d never talk to you again. You’d no longer be there for him when he just didn’t want to be alone. You’d no longer be the first person he thought of when he caught a trailer for a new movie that looked good. You wouldn’t speak to him for years and years and then suddenly, out of the blue, you’d get a pity invite to his wedding to some Russian super model and all he’d introduce you as is someone he knew from college. Because that’s the kind of “friends” exes became.

“Right,” you force a smile. This time, not even Jake could make you believe him. “I’m— I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t until months later, when you were wine drunk watching The Fox and the Hound, that you finally admitted it out loud. “Hey, Jake. I, um, I lied. When I said I was okay with you leaving, I lied. I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay…”

The soft scent of floral notes fill your lungs as light mist lands on your skin. You take a deep breath, looking up at the fluttering butterflies moving in the air above you. It calms you, how silent butterflies are, like they’re the only creatures that don’t intrude on your space. Silent, and soft, and beautiful.

Dr. Elsher’s words ring in your head as you walk your feet through the familiar turns of the butterfly pavilion. The two of you had been talking about Jake for the last couple sessions, working through what he meant to you and what he made you feel about yourself. It was painful, you won’t pretend that it wasn’t, but it helped. You’d even stopped leaving Jake voicemails every day.

It wasn’t a lot, you know that. But it was something. It wasn’t that you stopped loving Jake, or missing him, or wanting him, you just didn’t need him. You could live without him. Because you had other things—or, at least, you’re working on that. For now, you have butterflies.

For a moment, you think about leaving Jake a voicemail, but you shake it off. Not today. Today is about you and your happiness and the fact that you can live without Jake.

“And that’s important,” Dr. Elsher gives you a knowing look. “That you look at it as living. Up until now, you’ve been surviving. I want you to know that you can live whether or not you have Jake, or your parents, or anyone else.”

A blue butterfly flies in front of you and your shoes stop on the concrete to watch it for a moment. It lands on a peony growing near you, its wings spread to show off their iridescent shimmer. Your fingers brush against the edge of your phone case in your back pocket, but you stop yourself. Though you can’t explain it, you decide not to take a picture of the butterfly. Instead you just watch it until it flies away.

The bench you always sit at is just behind the flower bush in front of you and your shoes start moving against the concrete again. Dr. Elsher had recommended you try journaling for a bit and you figured this would be the nicest place to do it—sitting at your bench, in the quiet, surrounded by butterflies.

Your breath feels like it was ripped from your lungs when you finally move past the flower bush.

“Jake?”

The blond’s head turns at the sound of your voice, confirming his identity. He looks equally as shocked and he hops up from the bench quickly. “Hey…” He swallows.

You stare at him. He’s bigger now, muscles more toned and firm. He looks taller, if that were even possible, and you have to crane your neck a bit just to look at him. He’s still Jake though. He’s just a bigger Jake with slightly longer hair and… softer eyes. He’s Jake all the same.

“You’re, um, you’re back,” your voice is small and you wet your lips out of habit. “I thought you were in Texas.”

Jake scratches the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. So unlike the Jake you know, he seems nervous and for a fleeting second panic fills you. Has he been getting your voicemails? “Yeah, I just moved back. It’s— It’s nice to see you though. It’s been a while, huh?”

A year and a half. That’s how long it’s been. One year, six months, and eleven days.

“Yeah.”

When you say nothing more, Jake clears his throat. “Well, I should go. I mean, I know this is your spot and— I was just—” He stops himself, his expression morphing into one that almost looks like he’s disappointed in himself. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

With a strained smile, Jake brushes past you, heading towards the exit as he runs a hand through his hair. He seems anxious, fidgeting with himself as he leaves. You can’t stop staring at him.

Jake doesn’t spare you another glance before he’s gone.

Jake feels like he’s going to get a headache from how loud the music is, the flashing lights making his eyes squint. California feels different compared to Texas, but not by much. Alcohol is still alcohol after all.

Not that Jake’s having that good of a time due to that fact. The amount of bodies packed into this club has him more irritated than anything and even the alarming amount of shots he’s been taking doesn’t seem to help. He’s just annoyed. Javy’s been pushing him in the gym, critiquing every mistake and making him practice punch combinations again, and again, and again. And there’s no reason for it either because, while Jake thought he was just competing with Rooster for good fights, he came to learn that some other up-and-comer has carved out his place in Mav’s lineup and now Jake has to sit back and watch the Grim Reaper take fights that should’ve been his.

It feels like the beginning of his career all over again, except this time he knows he deserves better fights. He’s stronger now, he knows how to put on a show, and if he just stayed in Texas he could be fighting whoever he wanted. If he just stayed in Texas a lot of things would be simpler.

Throwing back one final shot, Jake gets up. At this point, he might as well stop moping around and do something that’s actually going to make him feel better. There’s a buzz in his head that has the ability to take his mind off things if he focuses on it and what looks to be a bachelorette party has just made its way to the dance floor. Despite how in his own head he’s been, he isn’t stupid enough to remain oblivious to the redhead that’s been eyeing him since she got here.

With confident strides, he makes his way over to where she’s dancing with a few friends, gaze locked on the carefree swaying of her hips. She moves to make another glance at him, but she seems to have not realized that he’s already spotted her as her eyes widen slightly when she sees he’s coming closer. Whispering something quickly to her friends, she pulls herself away from the group.

Jake watches the way her chest rises and falls, taking in oxygen deeply with how much she’s been dancing. Sweat pools at the dips in her collarbones—something Jake can see because of her low cut top—making her skin look like it’s shimmering under the neon lights. She looks up at him through long, innocent lashes, biting her lip shyly.

Like it always is, the way he speaks to her is a blur. He says something to make her giggle and she steps closer to him under the guise of wanting to hear him better. She tells him her name and he forgets it and he pretends to be interested in what she’s doing in the city. One thing leads to another and then she’s grabbing his hand, leading him away with that same giggle, and then he’s pressing her against the wall in some dark hall before he inevitably takes her home like he always does.

Jake ignores the somewhat queasy feeling in his stomach, chalking it up to one too many shots, and lets his hands fall to her hips. Her head tilts up just slightly, an invitation to kiss her, and Jake can see the pink lip gloss that’s reflecting off her parted lips.

The lights from the club travel over them occasionally, illuminating the scene enough for Jake to catch details about this woman, like the freckles peppering her shoulders and the glitter she’s smeared on her eyelids. But Jake never usually takes the time to notice these things, not when they truly and utterly don’t matter, he hardly ever gets with these women just to look at them.

When he finally dips down to kiss her, the lights pass over them again, right before her eyes can fully flutter closed. Jake jerks his head back.

“What?”

Jake knows the woman is looking at him in confusion, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead he shoves his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the clear effects of alcohol he’s experiencing like he’s trying to wake up from a dream. Because this woman doesn’t have your eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath, letting his hands fall. The lights pass over them again. The woman looks heavy with concern. But she has your eyes and your perfect nose and Jake feels like he’s going crazy because she’s not you.

She’s not you.

And he was going to kiss her.

Jake feels sick. He takes a step back from the woman, eyes darting all over the club as he tries to collect his thoughts. He knows that running into you had thrown him, he hadn’t been expecting to see you, not so soon and not when he still didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been expecting to be so grateful though, like seeing you suddenly made everything feel right again, like he didn’t know how much he needed it until it finally happened.

He saw you at the butterfly pavilion and had to stop his heart from skipping beats because he had never truly realized just how right he’d been when you were together. You are an angel.

And Jake always thought poetry was stupid, but now he wishes he paid more attention when excitedly you spoke to him about your literature classes in college because no words seem sufficient to describe what it felt like to lay eyes on you again. Beautiful didn’t even hold a candle—ethereal maybe? He felt like a lovesick idiot.

And here he is trying to kiss another girl that isn’t you.

“Are you okay?” A delicate hand weighs down on his shoulder but it feels like it’s 1000 pounds.

Jake flinches away from the woman’s grip, only able to shake his head. The alcohol is catching up to him now, as is the realization that this entire time he’s been doing everything he can to forget you and he’s finally reached his limit. He can’t forget you because he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to find women that only like the idea of him and who he only likes the idea of too. He only ever wanted them because he can’t have you.

“I have to go.” Jake says finally. He doesn’t want this. “I have to— I should go.”

He’s walking away before the woman can even say anything, shouldering his way past people to get out of the stuffy club. His ears are ringing and it feels like all he can see are flashes of you. Jake knows that he should go home, sleep off the alcohol and the memory of you so guarded at the butterfly pavilion. At the very least, he should call Javy so that he isn’t alone

Instead he stumbles his way to Mav’s with the plan to hit a punching bag until he physically can’t anymore.

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shakespeareanwannabe · 1 month

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As You Wish, Chapter 8

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings/Disclaimers: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, breastfeeding, swearing, angst, tears, references to drinking, sadness, references to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, adults doing sneaky things, references to babies

San Diego, California, almost 12 years ago

Buttercup slowly rocked in her chair, the slight breeze from the open window fluttering the pale-yellow curtains that she had hung so carefully while Jake had been deployed. Of course, he had lost his ever-loving shit when he had come home to find the nursery half decorated and the furniture half built, but the hour-long lecture about taking it easy during pregnancy and not doing any heavy lifting had been worth it.

The nursery was exactly as she had pictured it, once Jake had finished building the furniture and Javy and Bob had finished painting the walls the pale-yellow she had chosen. The mural of pink and purple butterflies she had painted on the wall looked so perfect behind the dark cherry wood cribs, and the colours perfectly matched the crib bedding she had ordered.

She had poured her heart and soul into decorating the nursery, their forever home…and now she was leaving it. Her bags were packed and stacked by the door. She was just waiting for Jake to return with Abby so they could go their separate ways.

Buttercup sniffled as she looked down at the tiny baby suckling on her breast. “I hope you know that I would take you both with me in a heartbeat if I could,” she whispered down to her sweet Charlie. “But we have to be fair. And…” she choked back a sob. “Your sister needs me more than you do right now.”

Abby’s weight had been dropping steadily in the weeks since the divorce had been finalized, and Buttercup’s doctor thought that the stress of it all had been affecting her milk supply, and so had recommended switching Charlie to formula so that Abby could absorb all the extra nutrients she needed. Therefore, when the judge had agreed to their abnormal custody arrangement, Buttercup had made the difficult decision to take Abby, leaving Jake with all the pumped breastmilk she had stored so that Charlie wouldn’t have to transition to formula right away.

Still, the decision had nearly broken her, as much as the decision to divorce her husband had.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she whispered as Charlie released her. Buttercup lifted her daughter onto her shoulder and patted her back. “As soon as your dad’s schedule calms down a little and I get settled in my new home, we’ll start figuring out how to share custody, okay? But I promise you, Charlie. I love you and I will miss you so much.” Buttercup’s shoulders heaved with the effort it took not to break down into sobs. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. You don’t deserve any of this happening to you. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work. I’m sorry I can’t take both of you. I…I’m so sorry.”

Buttercup snuggled Charlie closer and gently rocked, willing time to either slow down or just stop. It was moments like this that made her second guess every decision she had made in her life. Feelings of failure and shame washed over her as easily as the ocean washed over the sand in the distance. She had failed the sweet little girl in her arms and her sister. They both had.

Buttercup didn’t know how much time had passed before a low cough broke her concentrated view on the ocean in the distance.

Jake stood with a sleeping Abby in his arms, shadows of grief and longing painting his face. “Hey…”

All the words she wanted to say pressed against lips, but she was able to squeeze out a small, “Hey,” in reply without breaking down.

“She…she’s all ready,” Jake murmured, his falling to the infant in his arms.

“So is she,” Buttercup whispered. “All the milk I pumped is in the fridge, and…and her favourite blanket is in her crib. She…” Buttercup bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She couldn’t cry in front of him. She wouldn’t let herself cry in front of him, not again. Not ever again.

“I know,” Jake saved her, nodding at the list pinned to the corkboard. “You wrote it all down for me.”

As though moving through quicksand, Buttercup stood and waded towards him. With practiced, ease they switched babies, Abby now content in her mother’s arms and Charlie in her father’s.

“Hey…maybe we could—”

Buttercup shook her head, her eyes trained on Charlie’s sleeping face. If she met those green eyes of his, she’d fall apart for sure.

“No…we can’t.”

Somehow, she knew Jake was nodding. “Right…we can’t.”

Buttercup’s lips trembled but she refused to break. “I guess we’ll be in touch about custody…”

Jake sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be in touch.”

“O-okay…goodbye, Jake.”

Heaviness hung over both of them, the weight of everything they were leaving unsaid sitting like a leaden cloud. “Goodbye, Buttercup.”

London, England, Now

When Charlie awoke the next morning, it was to a growing sense of relief mixed with absolute dread. Relief because she wasn’t holding onto this huge dark secret that had been taking up the majority of her brain power. Uncle Bob knew. He knew and he wasn’t upset. He loved her despite her not being Abby. He loved her despite not seeing her for almost 12 years. He held her and let her cry, then ate ice cream with her and talked about her life in Texas, all the questions she’d been wanting to ask pouring from her lips like some sort of waterfall. Bob knew her secret and still loved her. In fact, he’d known the whole time, but Mom didn’t know. And he wasn’t going to tell her.

That’s where the dread came in. Telling mom. She wasn’t worried that Mom wouldn’t love her once she found out that she wasn’t Charlie, but she was worried about her reaction. Would she cry? How would she react if her Mom started crying right in front of her? What if she was angry at them for doing something so reckless? Charlie didn’t know if she could handle her mom being angry with her. What if she blamed her father? Dad hadn’t known anything about this plan and, according to Abby at least, he was completely clueless about the switch, but if their divorce had been so bad that they had to put an ocean between them, who could say if Mom would get irrationally angry at Dad for letting this happen? Even though Charlie had mixed feelings about her dad and uncles lately, she wouldn’t be able to sit there and listen to her Dad be dragged through the dirt by her Mom. However, she had promised Bob that she would tell her, and she always kept her promises.

Charlie yawned and stretched and rolled out of bed, stopping to get dressed and grab her phone, where a notification from Abby was waiting.

A: Rooster knows.

Charlie’s heart stuttered in her chest.

C: WHAT? HOW?

A: Your stupid horse gave me away. You didn’t tell me she was so skittish.

Crap. She’d known she’d forgotten something, but there wasn’t exactly anything she could do about Lovebug being bonded to her and only her. Dad and Javy had a hard time getting close to her sometimes.

C: Crap. Sorry!

A: It’s okay. He said my lack of football knowledge and my vocabulary gave me away too. But he’s not going to tell Dad.

C: He’s not?

A: Yeah, he said it would be more fun for him to mess with Dad.

Charlie took a deep breath. At least there was that. Javy might have been willing to tell Dad because the two had been best friends since they were kids, so Rooster was the better person to find out anyway.

C: Okay…well, Bob found out too.

A: Oh no!

C: Turns out I’m not very convincing. He figured me out at the airport…in Buffalo.

A: What’s he going to do?

C: He said he wasn’t going to tell Mom…but that I have to.

A: Okay. When are you going to?

C: Today

A: So soon? What if she wants us to switch back?

Charlie frowned, a plan slowly taking form in her mind.

C: That wouldn’t be so bad. We could meet at a hotel in Texas and have them fall back in love with each other there?

A: And Savannah?

Charlie rolled her eyes.

C: I don’t know. But Dad can’t possibly be happy with her. Once he sees Mom again, the engagement will be off, and we’ll get to be a family again.

A: And if that doesn’t work?

C: We’ll figure it out. Together.

That’s what Uncle Bob had said. That they’d figure everything out together. Whether or not their parents fell back in love with each other, they wouldn’t be on their own to figure out a solution to their problems.

A: Okay. Tell me if Mum wants to talk to me?

C: I will…love you

A: Love you too

Charlie tucked her phone away and went downstairs, finding Bob drinking his coffee, dressed in an old Top Gun t-shirt and sweatpants, and Natasha, lounging on the couch, still in her pajamas.

“Good morning, everyone,” the slight British lilt that she had been practicing quavered as Bob met her eyes over the rim of his mug.

“Hey kid,” Nat greeted, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Bob gently placed his mug down and came over to greet her with a hug. “Sleep well?” he whispered into her hair.

“Better. A lot better after talking to you,” she admitted, relaxing into the hug. “Are you not working today?”

He shook his head, straightening to his full height. “It’s my day off anyway, but I cancelled my plans. Figured you might want some emotional support, so I’ll be here if you need me.”

Charlie squeezed her arms around him, the same way she did with her dad or uncles whenever she was overwhelmed by the way they always had her back.

“Thanks, Uncle Bob,” she whispered, the lilted accent in her voice dropping away for a moment.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Nat sat up and stared at them over the back of the couch.

Charlie’s eyes shot to Bob’s, but he nodded reassuringly. “Nat should probably know, right? And you can see it as a sort of…rehearsal for telling your mom.”

Gulping, Charlie nodded and turned, squaring her shoulders.

“You two are acting so weird. Is someone dying?” Nat placed her bowl down and stood, coming around to stand in front of her. “Abby, doll, you know you can tell me anything. What is with all the whispering?”

Charlie took a deep breath and looked into her aunt’s eyes, ignoring the clouding and the scar that had stolen her aunt’s career and part of her vision.

“…I’m not,” she replied in a shaky breath.

“You’re not what? Dying? That’s good to know, kid, but I kinda figured.”

“No…I’m not A-Abby,” Charlie swallowed hard.

Nat’s brows furrowed, the silvery scar jumping slightly. “Of course you are,” Nat shook her head. “You’re not making any sense. You’re Abby. You have to be Abby. If you’re not Abby, then you’re…”

Bob stepped closer and put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder.

“I’m what?” Charlie’s throat felt like it was closing up as Nat knelt down so they were eye to eye, her good eye furiously racing over her features as though trying to detect the truth.

“Charlie?” her aunt whispered, looking up to Bob for confirmation as Charlie nodded hesitantly. “Holy shit…Charlie?”

“Language, Nat,” Bob admonished with a chuckle as Charlie was swept off her feet into a bear hug that left her ribs aching and her heart singing.

“Oh, fuck off!” Nat placed Charlie on her feet and whirled around to meet her former partner. “You knew and you didn’t tell me? How long have you known? How long has he known?”

“I always knew,” Bob said with a shrug, retreating behind the kitchen counter as Nat advanced on him.

“Always…always knew? You mean you’ve known this entire freaking time? And you didn’t tell me? What the hell, Robert?”

Bob winced slightly. “I figured it wasn’t my secret to tell. And could you keep your voice down, please? My sister doesn’t know yet.”

“Your sist…Buttercup doesn’t know?” Nat gaped at them both. “Okay, we are sitting down right now, and you are telling me the whole story. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” uncle and niece sat on the couch, their proverbial tails tucked between their legs.

Nat sat in the armchair across from them and folded her arms. “Speak.”

“Before I do,” blurted Charlie. “Where’s mom?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Apparently, she dreamt up a solution to her plot problem and just had to write it down while it was fresh. She’s been at it since 4 a.m., and I don’t see her coming down any time soon.”

“Okay…” Charlie took a deep breath and launched into the story: being sent to Penny’s camp, meeting Abby and immediately disliking her, the shoving match that led to them being sent to the brig, finding the photos from Las Vegas, Amelia telling them about their parents’ marriage, and, finally, their brilliant idea to switch places so they could meet their missing parent. “We plan on telling them the truth at the end of the week and refusing to switch back unless they meet in person.”

Nat studied her, brow furrowed and eyes never leaving her face. “What are you two hoping to achieve with this?”

Charlie bit her thumb nail and shrugged. “Best case scenario? They figure out a better custody arrangement so I’ll still get to see mom and Abby can still see dad. Dream scenario?” Charlie blushed. “Mom and dad fall back in love and we won’t need a custody arrangement at all.”

Natasha shook her head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but I don’t think that dream is gonna come true. Even getting a better custody arrangement would be really difficult. Sure, there’s no global pandemic to contend with now, but trying to line up visitation while your dad runs the risk of getting deployed would make it—”

“Dad’s not getting deployed anymore,” Charlie interrupted. “He—”

“Okay, so he got promoted enough so that he’s not going to be called away from home to deal with a crisis. And trust me, there’s always some crisis or another that’ll keep your dad away from San Diego.”

“We don’t live in San Diego, Auntie Nat.”

Nat stopped rambling and looked at her. “Okay then, where do you live?”

“On the ranch in Texas with Uncle Rooster and Uncle Javy.”

Bob leaned forward. “Javy and Rooster live with you too?”

“Yeah, they retired from the Navy the same day you did. How do you guys not know this? Didn’t you keep in touch with anyone from the Dagger Squad? Mickey or Reuben or Kally?” Charlie stared at them, aghast. She’d always assumed that the members of the Dagger Squad had kept in touch with each other, even if Uncle Bob and Natasha had become mom’s support system after the divorce, same as Javy and Rooster had become dad’s.

They both slowly shook their heads. “We, uh…we kind of lost contact with everyone after we left the Navy,” Bob replied. “It all happened so fast, Charlie. We were given the option of retiring or moving on to a different unit, and that was that.”

“But why? I thought you guys were a team? A family? That’s what Aunt Penny always says! How could you just lose touch with them?”

“Because it was too damn hard, that’s why,” Natasha bit out, an unreadable look in her eyes. “Because I didn’t want to hear about them flying missions and hitting me with the “Sorry, Phoenix, but it’s classified” line whenever I ask about their work, if I ever asked about their work. Because I didn’t want their damn pity. Because it was hard enough being a female pilot, but almost losing my eye and being grounded? That was damn near unbearable.”

Charlie shrank back in her seat and nodded. “Oh…sorry.”

Bob placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Charlie. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, really. Sometimes it’s just easier to say goodbye and let everyone go their separate ways instead of trying to hang onto something that’s not there anymore. I tried to reach out to a few people on the team, including your dad, but they were either always deployed or their numbers weren’t reachable or their numbers had changed. That’s what happens sometimes, kiddo. That’s just life.”

Charlie bit her lip, the question she had been longing to ask pushing against her lips until she finally asked, “So…that’s what happened? It’s not that you didn’t want me? It’s that you couldn’t reach my dad?”

Bob wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Nat slid onto the couch cushion next to her, the two of them pulling her into a hug.

“Of course we wanted you, Charlie,” Nat whispered. “We missed you like crazy, kid.”

Bob pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Your mom wanted you too. And she’s going to be so happy when she finds out you’re here.”

Charlie pulled away and chanced a glance over the back of the couch towards the stairs. “I…I should go tell her.”

Bob nodded. “Yeah, kiddo. You should. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Charlie stood and Natasha jabbed an elbow into Bob’s gut. “You mean, we’ll be right here if you need us.”

Charlie grinned as Bob rubbed his stomach. “Thanks guys.”

She turned and faced the stairs, feeling like her stomach was somewhere near her feet. Then, she started to climb.

Charlie stood outside her mother’s bedroom, hand poised to knock, but her stomach was still living somewhere near her feet and her hand was shaking so badly that she was afraid that she would miss the door completely when she tried to knock.

Everything was happening so quickly. Just last month, she had been an only child on a ranch full of men. Now, she was a twin with three uncles and an aunt and, most importantly, two parents who loved and wanted her. Or so Bob and Natasha had said. She knew that they loved her, but the fear that her mother would end up rejecting her was so strong that it made her want to run out of the house and hide somewhere. But she couldn’t. She had promised Bob and Natasha and besides that, she didn’t want to live somewhere she wasn’t accepted for who she was. So, if mom rejected her, she would happily go back to Texas and live a happy ever after life with her family, who was clearly trying to protect her.

Nodding determinedly at the solution she had formulated in her head, she knocked quickly on the door and stuck her head in, spotting her mother folded into her writing chair.

“Hey babe,” Buttercup yawned, tilting her computer screen down. “Sorry I didn’t come down for breakfast. I thought I solved my issues; I had this whole dream about the solution. But the characters don’t want to listen to me. I swear, Abby, it makes me want to throw in the towel.”

Charlie fiddled with her fingers as she listened. The past few days, she had loved listening to her mother talk about her stories and how she teased out the plot points, but now she felt guilt and anxiety weigh on her heart. As much as she wanted to act tough, she desperately wanted her mother to love her for her, not because she thought she was Abby.

“Mom? Can we talk about something?”

In less than a second, she watched Buttercup go from author mode to mom mode. She stood, pulled her light cotton robe over her pajamas and stretched, putting a gentle hand between her shoulder blades and steering her towards the bed.

“Of course, Abby. Hop on up and we can talk about whatever you want.”

Buttercup propped herself up against the pillows and turned her body towards Charlie, who crawled into the left side of the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest.

“I…” To her horror, Charlie felt tears well up in her eyes. She slammed them shut before any could escape and felt her hands tremble.

The mattress shifted and warm arms encircled her before Buttercup spoke. “Abby, sweetheart, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

“I…I don’t want you to get mad,” Charlie whimpered into her mother’s shoulder.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think it’s possible for me to get mad at you,” Buttercup hummed, pulling her close and rocking her gently side to side. “Remember when you accidentally kidnapped Mr. Tomkit’s cat? You were holding poor Shadow hostage in your closet and dressing him up for tea for three days before we found out. Did I get mad then?”

Charlie’s tears streamed down her face. “I…I don’t know,” she murmured truthfully. Abby had never shared that story with her.

“Of course I didn’t,” Buttercup replied in a soft voice. “You were only six. The point is, whatever happened, an accident or a mistake, we’ll figure it out like we always do, yeah? It’s you and me, sweetheart. It always has been, and we’ve managed well so far, haven’t we?”

“B-but what if this time makes you not love me anymore?” The question leapt forth before she could stop it, the question she had been both dying to ask and too afraid of hearing the answer.

Buttercup’s hands found Charlie’s shoulders and eased her away just enough to look in her eyes. “Abigail Juliet Floyd, nothing could ever make me not love you anymore. Nothing in this whole universe. You hear me?”

“But I’m not Abby! I’m Charlie!” she sobbed, her hands raising to cover her face. “Abby and I met at camp, and she really wanted to meet dad and I really wanted to meet you, so we swapped places!” To Charlie, it was as though everything had been frozen in time. She couldn’t hear the birds chirping outside her mother’s window or Auntie Nat’s trashy tv shows playing on the tv downstairs. Nothing moved and nothing sounded in the longest minute of Charlotte Delta Seresin’s life.

And then, those warm arms wrapped around her tightly and held her close. “My baby…my sweet Charlotte…”

Charlie flung her arms around her mother and buried her head in her neck, breathing in the hibiscus and jasmine perfume and feeling the soft silk of her mother’s pajamas under her cheek. “You’re not m-mad?” Charlie whispered.

She fought her hands not to cling to her mother as she pulled away, just far enough to look at her. “How could I be mad?” Charlie’s heart clenched at the sight of the pearly tears clinging to her mother’s cheeks. “It’s really you, Charlie?”

Charlie nodded meekly, tucking her feet up underneath her. “Abby taught me everything about her life while we were at camp. She wanted to meet dad so badly, and I always dreamed of meeting you. I was so scared to tell you because I was afraid you left me because you didn’t want me…”

Buttercup’s gentle fingers traced over her daughter’s features, sadness filling her eyes. “I’ve loved you and wanted you since before you were even born, Charlie,” she whispered. “I…I’m so sorry we failed you, love. It’s no excuse, but this was never supposed to be permanent. We just let time get away from us, I suppose. But please…you need to know that I missed you every single day, sweetpea. I love you so much.”

Charlie let herself relax into Buttercup’s arms, her tears slowing and her breathing steadying. “I love you too, mom.”

A few hours later, the three Floyds and their honorary fourth member sat clustered around Buttercup’s computer, a Zoom call open in front of them as they waited for the call to be answered.

“I still can’t believe you knew before I did. A mother is supposed to know her own children,” Buttercup worried her lower lip as she stared at Bob, on the other side of Charlie.

“In Charlie’s defence, she really pulled the act together once she got to the house,” Bob replied. “And in your defence, you do know your children. It might have just been too difficult for you to even try to rationalize that the girl in front of you might not be Abby.” Bob shot Buttercup a meaningful look as the dark screen in front of them suddenly filled with colour.

“Uncle Roo, you need to back up,” they heard Abby gripe. “They can only see your shirt right now.”

Rooster backed up and sat in a chair behind a desk, Abby perched next to him.

“Hey, old man,” Natasha teased.

Bradley huffed slightly, a light smile dancing across his face. “Hey yourself, Phoenix. Hey Buttercup.”

Buttercup’s face filled with fondness. “Hey Bradley, how are you?”

He shrugged as the pixels danced across the screen. “Can’t complain. How’s my girl? Ow! Sorry, Jesus. I mean, how’s my other girl?” he shot a glare at Abby, who grinned back at him.

“Hey Uncle Roo,” Charlie beamed at him through the camera. “Hey Abby!”

“Hey Charlie, hey Auntie Nat! Hey Uncle Bob, Charlie told me you figured it out right away!”

Bob nodded once and pushed his glasses up. “You’re one of a kind, Abby. No emulating it.”

“Damn, you figured it out right away?” Rooster whistled through his teeth. “It took me a couple of days to figure it out. You two never thought to teach your girl about American football? Javy thought she got a brain transplant at camp.”

Buttercup and Bob chuckled but Natasha remained suspiciously silent as Charlie filled them in on how life was in England and Abby filled them in on all the Texas goings on.

“…and dad’s engaged to this dreadful woman who wants to go wedding venue shopping on Saturday!” Abby groaned.

“Abby,” Buttercup admonished. “You just met this woman. Give her time to adjust. I’m sure it was quiet something when your father told her that his daughters had switched places.”

“Oh, well, actually…” Abby started.

“Yeah, she didn’t take it that great, Buttercup,” Bradley cut in, giving Abby a little nudge with his elbow. “Remember, kid?”

“Oh…uh…yeah. She didn’t take it that well at all.”

Charlie would blame the emotional day for the fact that her mother didn’t pick up on the strange behaviour behind the screen at all.

“So, give her some time, and she’ll…she’ll come around,” Buttercup gulped slightly and reached for her bottle of water.

“Yeah, I’m sure she will,” Rooster rolled his eyes. “Why don’t y’all come to Texas for the weekend? We’re stayin’ at some fancy hotel in Austin for the weekend while Savannah looks around at different venues. She wanted to make it a weekend getaway. But you guys should come so you and Hangman can figure out an arrangement that keeps these two from pulling a Trading Places again.”

Buttercup was chewing on her bottom lip again. “I…I don’t know. It’s supposed to be a wedding related trip. I wouldn’t feel comfortable crashing it.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing it,” Rooster replied. “Jake invited you. He wants to figure out a solution too, before the wedding.”

Buttercup sighed heavily, the breath tinged with sadness. “Yeah…yeah, that makes sense. Bob, can you—”

“I’ll clear my schedule so I can go with you, and I’ll book our flights there,” Bob replied, his phone already in his hand.

Buttercup smiled gratefully. “Natasha—”

“I’ll keep in contact with the old man and make sure we book the right hotel,” Natasha replied, fixing Rooster with a glare that would have paralyzed him if they were in the same time zone.

Buttercup sighed resignedly. “Okay, then. I guess we’ll all see you on Saturday.”

“See you then, Buttercup,” Rooster winked.

“Bye mum! I love you!”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Rooster whipped around as a voice rang out behind them. “Mum? Buttercup? Dude, what the hell is—”

“Gotta go, mum! Bye!” Abby shouted as she slammed the laptop screen down, cutting off the call.

“Well, that wasn’t ominous at all,” Natasha muttered.

Buttercup’s worried face reflected back at her on the darkened screen. “Oh god…what have I gotten myself into?”

Rooster glared at Javy. “Nice going, dipshit.”

“What? Me? Who the hell were you talking to on that call, man? Because I only know one Buttercup and—”

“And what, Uncle Javy?” Abby blinked up at him innocently. “Who is Buttercup?”

Javy gaped at her. “She…uh…she’s, um…”

Rooster rolled his eyes. “Cut the guy some slack, would ya, Abby?”

Abby’s grin widened as Javy’s mouth dropped even further. “Nah…man, there ain’t no way…”

“You didn’t think it was suspicious that Penny wouldn’t quit pesterin’ us both until we got Hangman to agree to send Charlie to camp on that specific day? You don’t think it’s weird that Lovebug treats her like she’s a stranger? You never noticed that your favourite assistant coach knows jack all about football now?”

Javy crouched down in front of her. “You’re not Charlie, are you?” Abby shook her head and Javy’s eyes welled with tears. “C-can I hug you, darlin’?” Abby nodded with a smile, and she was suddenly scooped up into a massive hug. “Oh my god, man…this is unbelievable!”

“What’s unbelievable?”

The three turned to see Jake standing behind them in the doorway of the office, his arms folded across his chest.

“Hey, man,” Rooster greeted. “What’s up?”

“Was just coming to try to find my daughter.”

Abby gulped. She hadn’t really spoken to her father since her blow up at the news of his engagement. The news still weighed heavily on her, but Rooster’s plan would work, she just knew it. Plus, she would get to see her mum soon, and that always made her feel better.

“H-hey, dad.”

Jake’s face softened. “Hey Charlie, I was hoping we could have a chat before dinner. Just you and me.”

Javy opened his mouth and Abby pinched him hard on the shoulder blade, out of view of her father.

“Sure, dad. I think that’s a good idea. Can you put me down, Uncle Javy?” Javy hesitated but Abby begged him with her eyes not to blow this for them, and he conceded.

“Sure…Charlie.”

Abby smiled at him as she went to her father’s side.

“We’ll see y’all at dinner, alright?” Jake nodded at them as he let the office door close behind him.

“Alright, dude, you’re gonna tell me what’s goin’ on right now, or I swear to god, I’m telling Jake why that pair of men’s boxer shorts were hanging outside his window.”

“Relax, Coyote,” Rooster sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “You and me are gonna have a lot of fun with Hangman this weekend.”

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moonacrefarm · 2 months

Text

anticipating love

summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love.

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: so...uh, here it is :D

series masterlist

next part | 02. never hesitating

01. watching, i keep waiting

It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.

They hadn't seen each other since.

However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.

He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.

"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”

“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.

Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.

Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.

"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.

Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.

She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.

It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.

“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”

Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.

A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.

“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.

You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”

Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.

Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.

While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.

Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.

“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”

San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.

Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.

“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”

“Having it out with my dad” She winced.

“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.

Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”

A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.

“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”

Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.

“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”

A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.

“Penny, I’m your only niece.”

“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.

Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”

“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”

“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”

Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.

The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.

Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.

The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”

“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.

“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.

“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.

You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”

“Sold!”

He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.

You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."

You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.

The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”

“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.

The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.

You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.

A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.

You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.

And there he was.

Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.

Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.

The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.

The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”

“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.

The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.

You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.

It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.

Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.

In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?

He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.

“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.

He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.

“How was the last…what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.

He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.

“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.

"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.

“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”

Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.

His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.

“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.

“She’s…She’s sick?”

You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.

“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.

“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.

Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”

He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”

He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”

“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”

“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.

You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.

Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.

“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”

Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.

It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rocky’s masterlist⚘#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine

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floydsglasses · 2 months

Text

𝘼 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝘼 𝙔𝙚𝙡𝙡 - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x AFAB OC/ Valerie

SUMMARY: Society has fallen to ruin's where silence is key to survival in a world where most humans have been killed by blind but noise-sensitive creatures. Two unlikely survivors come across each and agree to stick together.

Tag's: Mention of blood/wounds, post apocalyptic setting, use of ASL, Alien creatures. Stranger's to Lover's, Angst, Swearing, Fluff, inacurate first aid, No Use of Y/N A/N: First Story on tumblr, I hope that I did this right and hopefully I didnt mess thing's up too much

WORD COUNT: 7,731

⏁⏁⏁

SOUND. What once was so common is now almost extinct as the human race. The birds no longer flew in the sky, car alarms didn't blast loudly with a touch of a button, soft chatter’s from conversation now replaced with howling of the wind. Everything before was so simple, it was so easy, she didn't have to worry about the sound of leaves crunching under her feet, closing a door too hard, letting out a breath too hard. Now one wrong move in this world, a person’s life is gone in less than a whisper.

Her hand’s trailed over the isles of abandoned goods, she used to love going to the supermarket, seeing people and having a nice conversation with the cashier, kind smile’s.

Now a trip into town is so dreaded, the world is so quiet and it’s almost insufferable to her. Though she would much rather prefer the silence of the world then the harsh darkness of death from the predator's who now ruled the world.

She looks down at her grocery list, written on the back of the brochure for a navel bar, The Hard Deck. Before day 1 of the end of the world, she worked at a cafeteria in a nursing home, after rough day’s she would sometime’s sit at the bar with a bottle of beer. At the moment she much preferred the sound of the man she could catch glimpses of the few night’s playing 60’s tune’s on the piano. She assumed anyone she once knew is gone now.

She slide’s the can of food into her messenger bag, making sure not to stock up too much on the cans, learning the hard way that too much noise will attract the monsters.

Her bare feet smack the ground of the white tiled floor as she turned onto the next aisle.

Food rations were running low for her, and it didn't help that nowhere was safe enough for her. Walking around a desolate San Diego without shoe’s also wasn't ideal. Pain killers, she thought .

A few weeks ago she tripped on the sidewalk, skidding her knee and thigh, not something she would recommend handling without pain killers.

The snap of glass pulls her out of her thought’s. The hair on her arm stood to attention as her heart pounded in her rib cage, eye’s widened fearfully. Her hand grazed her knife holster, gripping the ebony handle. She had never handled a weapon for the purpose of hurting another human, not before this new world began.

Her breath shake’s as she lightly step’s around the corner. Unsheathing the blade from her waist. Monster’s were not the only threat in the world, the people, rumors at least swirled of groups of people calling themselve’s Bandits ruled parts of the city. She had not ventured that far, she was hell bent on finding somewhere away from the city, anywhere that was safe.

She huffed, swinging her blade as she rounded the aisle corner. She panted, her head darting in each direction. All that remained were leaves blown in from the broken front door, a few item’s laid on the ground.

She shook her head. Paranoia much. She rolled her eye’s, putting her knife back into its holster. You know you are totally crazy. Her bare feet turned on the edge to go back to her original isle.

Her arm’s smack into a metal stand, it began to fall to the floor. She gasped quickly trying to stop its descent. Its pamphlet’s crashed with metallic bang. Her eyes widened in horror as her heart raced, blood drained from her face.

Oh God, she panicked. Roar’s in the distance began to cry out at the sound. She stood frozen in fear, panting as she desperately fought against her sense telling to hide.

She let out a gasp as she was brought to the floor. She expected to be met with darkness, her eye’s closed tight awaiting the pain from the sharp talon’s of the creature’s that ruled the quiet world.

Shhh. A voice whispered next to her ear, their hot breath sending shivers down her spine. Her heart pounded. Her back was held closely to something..someone.

Her arm’s radiated with warmth, mostly from fear. Could the stranger be holding her back so they can save their own skin, or did they have something else in mind.

No time can pass in her mind as clicking began to fill the supermarket. Footsteps heavy on the tile, a hissing sound filled the air. The stranger behind her shuddered at the sound’s, the two of them both equally fearful.

Click Click.

They sounded. The dark silhouette casted on the ceiling above them on the white bar’s. The stranger’s hand clamped over her mouth as her panting grew erratic, she stood still not daring to move, even with the tight grip around her body from the stranger.

The click’s began to get closer to them, the footsteps heavier with each step. Their dark gray skin tight as their gorilla like movement helps them traipse across the tile. Their flower-like head’s turn slowly in each direction. She guessed they were looking for any sound.

She gulped as she held her breath, restricting her air. Hoping it will limit any sound she may be making, even with the help of the person holding her. She was sure that she was louder then what she may be stopping.

On her spine, a light thump was against her back. Rhythmically repeating at a rapid pace, similar to her own.

The creature’s head twitched with each click from its mouth, searching for her. Its heavy footsteps thudded against the ground as it walked on all fours.

A single tear trailed down her cheek, the heat from the stranger’s hand made the pool of sweat on her forehead fall. With a final twitch of its head, it let out an inhuman, ear piercing roar. A swift move the monster ran out of the supermarket.

A sigh of relief left her lip’s. The calloused hand left her mouth, her shoulders relaxed briefly. Her eyes widened, she reached for the holster that held her knife. A tight grip on wrist stopped her. From the size of his hand, she could tell he was a man, one who worked with his hand’s from the vein’s that popped.

He held on tightly onto her wrist as he got to his feet. Her heartbeat had not stopped racing, adrenaline pumped through her veins. She snapped her head, she had been ready to throw insult’s in, her head at least.

She looked the man up and down. His dirty blonde hair, messy and short. His dark brown eyes scanned her, maybe he saw her as a threat. Though he clearly had a chance of overpowering her. Above his chapped lips laid a thin line of facial hair, she wondered how long it took him to grow it.

He released her hand, putting his hand’s up in surrender. “Who are you?” She signed to him frantically, he blinked at her panicked state. He shook his head.

“I'm not gonna hurt you.” He reassured her she scrunched her nose up.

“Did you follow me?” She signed slowly. He shook his head.

“I was here before you.” The man stated in sign. “Bullshit!” She signed, her brows furrowed in anger.

“I swear.” He swore. In their silent world, she was thankful that she had taken the time prior to learning ASL. She wouldn't have thought it would be useful in a post apocalyptic setting.

Her shoulders relaxed, her jaw remained clinched. “Listen, to me please.” He pleaded with her, she crossed her arms.

He bent down on his knees leaning over grabbing a blue and yellow pamphlet, the world's map of San Diego written in a white font.

He began to carefully unfold it, placing objects on the corner to keep it straightened out. He looks up at her. “Marker?” He signed.

She furrowed her brow, she shook her head no. “What are you doing?” She signed to the stranger.

“Showing you something.” He signed, he looked around at the old store, smirking. He lightly stepped across the tiled floor.

She noted the duct tape on his boot’s, tear’s and rip’s in the leather in each curve, she supposed he had placed the tape to absorb the sound, she hadnt even thought about it.

Beginning to make mark’s on the map, taking pauses to think. His lip’s formed a thin line, he looked at her.

“You see that?” He signed, she shook her head.

“The Circle’s?” She signed to him, even in sign language he could detect the sarcasm she laid on. He gesture’s with two finger’s for her to get down to his level. She bends down to her knees, getting a closer look.

“You see it now?” He signed, she shook her head. He gently grabbed her hand, using his index finger pointing to the center. A green and beige island in the ocean, half a mile from the North Island docks. Her brows furrowed.

“What is that?” She signed. He blinked. “Island, not far from the bay, safe.” He says in sign language, she shook her head.

“Nowhere is safe.” She says.

“You don't know that.” He says, he motioned in frustration. “And you do?” She pointed out.

“Come with me.” He signed, she shook her head at his offer. “No, I don't know you.” She says.

“So..we can help each other.” He tells her, she shook her head in disbelief.

“I don't need your help.” She reassured him, she had gotten pretty far into the two year’s they have been in the apocalypse. His jaw dropped slack.

“You sure?” He challenged, and she nodded her head.

“Look, I can see you don't trust me.” He signed, she shrugged in agreement.

“But If you want to not live in fear of making a noise.” He paused with his hand’s up, he breathed out quietly. Her heart skipped a beat, looking at the brown eye’s of the stranger.

“Then come with me and see if it’s true.” He says.

She crossed her arms over her chest. She eyed the broken object’s on each side of the isle’s. The man in front of her offered her safety, and it had been so long since she last talked with another human being. He had saved her from being alien bait.

“Okay.” She signed to him. He breathed in relief at agreeance.

“One condition.” She state’s, he nodded his head.

“If it turns out to be fake.” She start’s. His gaze on her softened.

“We go our separate ways.” She sign’s, he nods his head.

“Deal.” He signed. The both of them got to their feet, he shuffled, folding up the map and stuffing it away. She lightly picked up her fallen backpack, she still needed supplies.

His brown eyes watched her. Before the alien had crashed in he had caught glimpses of her through the broken shelves. Her hair tucked into a beanie, a windbreaker jacket and jeans, no shoes though. Her own survival tactic he guessed, she seemed focused on her objective of getting what she needed.

“What’s your name?” He ask’s her, she gulps hesitating. She lifts up her hand’s and begin’s to sign out her name.

“Valerie.” She mouthed to him. He smirked. “You?” She asks back.

He runs a hand through his hair, he raises up his hands, slowly signing out the letter’s of his name. “Bradley.”

⏁⏁⏁

THE NEXT FEW days the two survivors had grown close, well as close as two people can when they are only using sign language to communicate.He would fumble on his signing that she would have to guess what he had said.

Her legs ached on each side, they had been making their way out of the inner city, following the highway to the marina. If car’s didn't risk the chance of them being caught their trip would take twenty minutes, now it would be a three day trip on foot, not including them avoiding the creature’s.

Valerie sighed, the morning sun of december shined on the two of them. The sun was high enough she could guess it was eleven in the morning. Bradley and her would both take turns with a large machete, it was heavy in her hand’s that most of the time he was the one welding it.

She feel’s a tap on her shoulder, she turned her head at him. “Are you hungry?” Bradley signed, she shook her head. “No.” She signed.

“I have a fruit cocktail, if you do get hungry.” He signs, her lip’s forming a thin line, smiling softly at his chivalry. She brushed a piece of her hair from her face, the bitter air whipping at her cheeks.

“Thank you.” Valerie say’s. She had grown tired of their small talk;most conversations that had gotten out of one another were about if they were okay, how far they were from their location, and where they should stop to rest.

Not that she didn't appreciate his worry for her, they had to rely on each other if they wanted to make sure they would see the next sunrise. She crossed her arms in her windbreaker, the two walked past run down car’s. Nature had started to reclaim her own, the highway’s covered in greenage and rust set into the metal of the high rise.

“Hey.” She stops him, he turns to look at her, keeping the same pace. “What?” He wondered.

“Before this.” She start’s off, looking away thinking of a question to break the ice. “What did you do, your job?” She ask’s. He runs fingers through his blonde hair in though.

He point’s to the sky, using two finger’s to trace along the white cloud’s. She furrowed her brow trying to understand him. “You..worked in the sky?” She signed.

“A pilot?” Valerie signs, he nods his head. He point’s up again, using two finger’s as a gun.He shot in the sky, she thinks, her eye’s widening as she understands him now.

“Top..gun.” She signed slowly.

“Yeah, and you?” He ask’s, she shakes her head. His job was definitely more eventful than hers. She cleaned table’s, served plates out to elderly people, and sometimes she would deliver to room’s.

“I worked in a cafeteria.” She signed to him. “Kind of boring.” She tells him, he shook his head.

“That’s not boring, that's simple.” Bradley reassured her, she shook her head. “You got to fly in the sky..All I did was serve soup.” Valerie says to him

“I would have loved that.” He tells her. “There were times I just wanted thing’s to be slow.” He admitted to her, she furrowed her brow at his admittance.

“Why did you join then?” Valerie wondered. He sighed, her eye’s drifting down at the grass growing through the cracking line’s of the highway. He gulped as they continued to walk on.

“I just had to.” He says. She nodded her head, she guessed it was a story she had to hear by mouth, which she was sure she would never hear.

“Long story short?” She signed to him, he shrugged his shoulders. “How far are we?” Valerie wonder’s.

“We passed about two, maybe three gas stations.” He tells her, she scoff’s, she hadn't taken the time to note the landmark’s, only keeping in mind how long it will take to get to their destination.

“They all look the same.” She says.

“Everything does.” Bradley remark’s, his movement’s in his hands are slower. She noted that his signing was slower than hers, she guessed he wasn't as fluent or quick in ASL like she is.

“How far from the marina do you think we are?” Valerie asked him, his brow’s furrowed, he looked around at the street signs. He pulls the map from his bag, placing it lightly on a rundown car hood, bringing the red sharpie marking off on it.

“We were at Amo’s street and now we are on 163.” He signed to her. She stands close to him looking down at the map. He had taken the time to mark off on each site they passed.

“Okay and how much further?” She wonder’s. His brown eye’s look at the map. “Fourteen miles .” He guessed

“Seriously?” She ask’s, she dropped her hand’s at her side in frustration. ”I think you are pulling my boob.” She joke’s, he furrowed his brow at her signing, got to teach him some thing’s.

“It's only been a few day’s.” He point’s out, she rolled her eye’s. A few day’s in this world was a lifetime with how long it takes to travel.

“Feel’s longer.” She remarked.

“You can still get leave.” He reminds her, she sighed. He was right, she didn't have to stick with him, they could part way’s now and hope for the best.

Though it was nice to have someone to care about, knowing that when she woke up that someone was going to be waiting for her. In the world before she had thrown herself into her work, claiming it was her mistress. She hadn't given herself time for relationships, and frankly they never gave time to her either. No need to waste her energy in a world that seemed so bleak.

“We’ve gotten this far.” Valerie reminds him.

“We finish what we have started.” She signs to him. Her eye’s hardened with determination, he smirked at her ambition.

“If we keep walking we should get close enough to the bay area.” He summarized. “What about sleeping?” She asked him, his shoulder’s slump, as if to let out a sigh.

He put his hand in a salute looking at the skyline in front of them. Building’s once filled the sky high reflecting from the glass now covered in vine’s, some had crashed down. Slashed from the claw’s and talon’s of the sound seeking creature’s. She often wondered how it must have felt to watch from above seeing everyone going about their lives. They must have looked like ant’s compared to them.

“There.” He point’s

“You wanna go there?” Valerie asked him, he nodded his head.

“That’s far.” She mouthed to him, he furrowed his brow’s

“So is the marina.” He signs, he point’s to the top of the building. “If we get high enough we can see how far we are.” He tells her. Her heart thumped as it raced

“Can't we just go to a motel?” She wonder’s, he shook his head confused. “Thought you wanted to see how far we are?” He ask’s, she gulped.

“Just the height is intimidating.” Valerie tell’s him. He smirked amused at her fear. “The world has ended and you are afraid of heights?” He signed to her, she rolled her eyes.

“No, I'm afraid of a creature climbing a high rise to kill me.” She state’s.

“I won't let that happen.” He promised her, his signing in the end being wrong. She shook her head.

“Give me your hand.” She orders. He furrowed his brow. She guides his hands, moving them in the right motion’s, mouthing what they are. “That’s how you do it.” Valeria corrects him.

“Thank’s.” He signs. She smiled softly, she swung her backpack up further. “Come on.” She usher’s him, her heart pounding looking at the sun peaking through the two towers.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE HAD DECLARED it she hated height’s. Even more than before she climbed the eighteen floor’s of the forty one floors of the Pacific Gate. She had always wondered what it must have been like to stay in the extractive type hotels. She had grown up in Virginia, in a rural town mile’s from the urban city, she had come to Calafornia chasing a dream that sadly fell through.

Her fingers grazed the chipped paint on the wall, the pearl white had turned brown from the age and vine’s had grown in the hall’s into the room’s. They had luckily found a room that wasn't terribly covered in the reclaimed nature. Bradley had insisted that they stay close to each other, both taking a watch.

Though they doubted that anyone or anything would find them up there, unless they made a sound. He kept to himself mostly, she wondered before the end of the world had he been a social person, like her. She could see from his choice in wardrobe, a Hawaiian shirt underneath his black jacket that he certainly had a taste. His tan skin almost kissed by the sun herself, had he gotten it from all their walking, maybe he had it before the world went quiet.

Her feet step on the ripped up dark blue carpet. The sun had set on the city and the moon had shone over the window’s of the balcony. A warm orange glow lit the room from her lantern. He laid on the bed, white ear bed’s in each of his ears, plugged into an old IPod nano. His brown eyes focused on the world outside.

She stands next to the white unmade sheet’s. A buffalo plaid blanket laid on top, she had insisted that she take the couch on the other side. She had noticed he had been limping up the step’s, knowing that the fancy hotel probably had a mattress that would make him feel better. He refused, if she could she would have let out a frustrated yell.

She tap’s his shoulder, he shuddered at the touch from her, he snapped his head in surprise. His finger’s grazing the knife holster on his leg.

“Sorry.” He signed.

She shook her hand. “It's Okay.” Valerie take’s the seat spot next to him, keeping a distance between the both of them.

“How did you get that?” She asks, pointing at the old technology, he smirked looking down at the blue case, a smiley face sticker on the back that slowly chipped away.

“It’s mine.” He states, she nodded her head.

“It still works?” She asks curious, she hadn't used one in years, preferring streaming from her phone.

His pink chapped lips formed a thin line. “Yeah, all my music from college.” He tells her, his signing is still slow.

“Anything good?” Valerie wonder’s, he shrugged his shoulders. He handed it to her to look at, she held up the screen, beginning to scroll with the control’s, clicking with each movement of her thumb. His music taste ranged from almost every decade up until 2012. She was almost surprised with the variety of choices’ he had at the tip of his fingers’, she looked down sadly, she hadn't heard music in what felt like an eternity, she can't even recall the last thing she had listened to on day one of their new world order.

She stops scrolling. Her eyes widened at the song, Jerry Lee Lewis’s, Great Balls of Fire. A soft smile creased her cheek’s. Lonely nights in the bar were less lonely when everyone around her began to sing the sixtie’s jaunty tune. She brought her hand to her mouth.

His brows furrowed at her reaction. “What?” He signed. She shook her head.

“Nothing, it's just.” She stops looking down again, her thumb grazing the play button. “There was a guy at this bar.” He perked up, his brows furrowed.

“He played this on the piano.” She recall’s, smiling softly. His eyes widened, his lip’s parting as his thoughts raced.

“Yeah every saturday..guess he is gone now.” Valerie signed sadly, she brushed back a piece of her hair.

Bradley had finally realized something. In the store, he saw her through the broken isles and fallen objects. He could have swore it was his mind finally playing tricks on him, until he caught a glimpse of her face.

There were night’s he would go into the Hard Deck. She would sit in the same spot each night, order the same drink, she always seemed to have her mind on anything but where she was. He had been curious who she was, why was she always in her head. He did plan to talk to her, only any time he got the courage to talk to her, she would get up and leave before he could get a chance to speak.

He pulls one of the white ear buds out of his ear, handing it to her. She looked down at his hand, taking it from him, placing it in her ear, pressing the play button. She flinches at the sudden piano playing. He chuckled quietly.

She rolled her eyes playfully. She began bobbing her head slowly, trying not to move her head too much. The two of them doing different motion’s to the music, if she was alone she would be all over the place, dancing on the mattress belting her lung’s out. He bites his lips, closing his eyes, thinking of better times.

Valerie mouthed the lyrics, leaning her head back at the chorus. She shakes her shoulders leaning into him trying to get him to join in with her. Bradley smirked at her happiness, the two of them tried everything to bond. Seeing the other experiencing something other than fear made his heart flutter.

He begin’s tap with his finger’s the note’s of the piano. Recalling the filling of the key’s under his finger’s, each movement a phantom at his tip’s. Valerie hold’s her fist as a mock microphone as she mouthed the final lyrics.

An inhuman screech fills the air echoing off the city. Her heart raced, wiping her head to look at the balcony. She shook her head. Figure’s she thinks’. The world outside was still as bleak as ever. Her smile fell as she glanced down.

“I’ll take my first watch.” She signed to him. His brow’s furrowed. Her shoulders tensed as she stood to attention, pulling her jacket closer. She turns on her heels to walk.

“Wait”. she hears a faint whisper escape’s his lip’s. He reached out, taking her hand in his calloused one. Their eyes locked as his face softened.

“Stay.” He pleads

She gazed at him. He had before insisted that they stay in separate rooms so the other had the chance of escaping while the other could too. Now here he begged for her to not leave him alone. Was he really scared this time, did he need that comfort of knowing in the room he wasn't alone.

“Of course.” Valerie signed. He gulped, running his hand through his unkempt honey curls. He laid back down. Placing his headphones back in his ear, leaving one out one for her to hear the music he played.

Bradley stayed awake for as long as he could, fighting hard against the sleepiness in his body, losing in the end. Soft snoring escaping his lip’s. Valerie formed a soft grin at his peacefulness, the both had seen so much, so many things lost and so many stolen from each of them.

She leaned over him, pulling a navy blue blanket over his chest. He turns in sleep, not waking. Hopefully he dreamed, anywhere that wasn't there must be better. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier as she stared at the quiet city. She wiped away the feeling from her eye’s.

Desperately battling against her own body clock, she groaned softly, wiping her cheek’s. Just shut your eye’s for a moment, the last word’s she thinks before her head hits the pillow and the world becomes dark.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SCRIBBLED THE WORD on the notepad. The two had grown bored on their adventure to the marina. Valerie had been sneaking around the Pacific gate, and found a white board for Bradley to use to communicate. Thinking it would make their communicating easier, as his ASL was slow, and now she could properly tease him.

“A.” He signed, she smirked, shaking her head. They had started playing the game hangman in to past time, they weren't far from the marina, having woken up late didn't help the ground they would have to make up.

He rolled his eyes as she drew another body part to the stick figure. She licked her lips as she waited for another guess. She had won the last five round’s of the game and him once, to be fair she didn't blame him for not being good at guessing games when there wasn't anyone to give hints verbally.

“C.” He guessed, she nodded her head writing the letter on the white board. He pumped his fist, the machete in the other, his turn as her hands were preoccupied with the marker.

“I hate this.” He signs, she smirks at him. “You just suck.” She teased him, he pulls out a tiny notepad, writing down in big letters. He holds it up to her.

“You have a lot of sass for a girl with no shoe’s.” It read, her eyes widened at the comeback. She uses her hoodie sleeve wiping off a bit of their game writing.

“And who’s idea was that mustache?”She wondered. His lip’s parted agape. “You love it.” He signs, she shakes her head. “Fuck off no I dont.” She write’s down. He holds up his own notepad.

“Everyone loves it, baby.” His read’s, she rolled her eye’s. “Not me.” She gesture’s. He scoffs silently.

“Wanna find out why?” He challenged her, licking his chapped lips. She looked at the hair above his lip, his facial hair being a stand out to the rest of his features, other than his well built physique. His blonde hair is curly on the top and shaved on the neck, unkempt yet somehow it still made him look even more handsome.

“No thanks.” She smiled softly. She looks down at her whiteboard, wiping it off again. “Keep guessing.” She urged him.

He runs his hand through his curl’s. “P” He sign’s. She looks at him disappointed, adding another limb to the stick man.

“That’s two arm’s.” Valerie point’s out. He shook his head. His step’s halt as he look’s up. “What?” She ask’s, her eye’s scan his sight seeing what he stopped for. Her heart stop’s in her throat as it began to race.

Hundreds of boat’s laid out in front of them on the waterfront, docked in their areas. Some fell prey to nature while some still remained.

Her breath shaked, she looked to the man next to her. Tears filled both their eyes, they had finally made it after so many long hours of walking, and dodging alien’s they reached their destination.

“Come on.” Valerie urged him.

She turned on her heels quickly scurrying to the stairs that lead down to the docks. He followed closely behind her as the both of them desperately raced for the nearest boat’s. Her feet pound against the wood as she stop panting looking around at their option for travel.

“Which one?” She asked him. He put his hand on hips trying to catch his breath.

“Anything with a cabin.” He writes on his notepad, she nods her head.

She walked around each boat, checking each for a key. She doubted that any of them would be filled with gasoline, much less run. For the most part they were almost all sailboat’s, and small yachts. She had never been on a boat, well one as big as the one’s parked in the water. She had gone fishing before with her uncles in the past, though she knows a small boat wouldn't get them to the island they needed something better.

The wood creaked as she stepped back down again. Valerie walk’s back around to the other dock, he stood with his arms crossed irritated.

“That bad.” She joke’s.

“I'll check again.” She tells him. He shrugged. “Be my guest.” He signed to her. The dock creaked again as with the heavy step of her foot. She gasps as a sharp pain in his felt in her thigh. She snapped her head looking down, a long black stick stuck out of her, piercing through pant leg.

A scream of anguish left her mouth as hot fire pain ran up and down her leg. She collapsed onto the dock groaning loudly, her eyes widened as her hot tears welled.

Bradley ran to her side, putting his hand over her mouth, muffling her scream. Valerie cried as she tried to pull the arrow out.

“Don't do that.” He whispered to her. She whimpered, leaning her head back.

He grunt’s as a cold metal graze’s his neck. Her eyes widened as another man behind him held a knife to the blonde’s throat. Two men dressed in ragged clothes, walk slowly behind him and stand above her, her heart racing in fear. Bradley slowly get’s to his feet, lifting his hand’s up in surrender. The man nod’s his head at the two men. The grab Valerie under her arm’s bringing her to her feet, she groaned quietly. A woman walks around, forcing a bandana around her mouth silencing her, she walks around.

Her cold eye’s analyzing both of them. No one dared to speak, she slowly paced around them. She removes a rope from around her waist, standing behind Bradley. She smirked, shooting dagger’s at Valerie. She grunt’s wrapping the rope around his neck, pulling it tightly. He gasped for air pulling at the rope that cut into his neck. He groaned as the man behind him forced him to turn around, beginning to drag him across the wooden dock.

Valerie grunted against the two men’s arm’s, her heart raced as she watched him struggle, clawing at his captor. The woman from before circle’s her, looking the restrained girl up and down, vulture to its prey. She point’s with her knife at the end of the dock.

She pant’s in fear, gritting her teeth. Her eye’s went to his kicking leg’s, a black leather strap on his leg laid a metallic flicker of the sun. Her brows furrowed as she understood what to do. She stomps on the wood.

The woman in front of her raised her brow’s at her action. Bradley looked at her, she stomped again, gesturing to her leg. He grunted twisting around trying to slow the man behind him, he strained as he grunt’s pulling him closer to the water. Valerie stomp’s her foot again, slapping thigh again.

His brown eyes darted to his own leg. The black leather sheath with his initials in the working laid his brown bowie handled knife. He reached with one hand, the other fighting the rope at his throat. His finger’s link through the hole in the handle, pulling it out.

Valerie met the eye of the woman leader. She smirked as her confusion grew. She grit’s through her teeth, extending her leg kicking the woman in the face, she stumbled back falling over onto the dock. She huffed, grabbing the handle in her holster, unsheathing her blade plunging it into the man behind her groin.

The man hollered out in pain. His scream echoing off the city. Screech and roar’s sound alert at the sudden disruption of their perfect world. The man with the rope looked up with wide eyes, his distraction end’s as a sharp cut is felt to his stomach.

He released the rope. Bradley got to his feet, he grunted as he balled his fist and swung it into the man’s face. Valerie grabbed one of the men by their shoulders, plunging her blade into his chest, he groaned in agony.

Shoving him away from her. Blood rushed through her ear’s as the creature’s cry’s began to get closer to them all. Valrie grunted limping, holding her thigh, crimson brown leaking through her jean’s onto the wood. She gritted her teeth trying to move as fast as her injury would let her get. Behind her she could hear the clicking of the alien, as well as its talon slicing through a body.

Bradley pulled the man against the dock post, pulling the rope tight as he fought against him.

“Fuck you.” He whispered into the man’s ear, he jammed the knife into the killer's gut. He let out a cry of agony, the creature’s hollers cutting in with his.

Valerie ducked out of the way, her head slamming hard into the wood. The former pilot dove into the water as the man was tackled into the bay water.

Her vision blurred as she looked to the sky above. She gasped for breath, panting as hot flashes ran through her body. The world around faded in and out, eventually turning dark.

⏁⏁⏁

HER BODY ACHED. Never in her life had she felt this tired, each side of her felt like they were under rushing water, slowing her with fatigue and aches. Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, the room around her rock back and forth, small and walled with dark oak. She groaned looking down at her leg.

The arrow was gone, the pain lingered. Her pant leg was cut open, a part of her maroon brief’s visible. A white bandage wrapped around her thigh, a bit of blood stained brown on her leg. She pant’s as she looked all around her, she didn't recognize where she was at all. “Valerie, it's okay.” A deep voice spoke clearly, her heart skipped a beat. She whipped her head, he got to her side sitting on an ottoman close to the wall. His blonde hair dripped with water, though the rest of his clothes remained dry.

She stuttered for a moment. “I got the arrow out but I had to dig around the tip.” Bradley inform’s her, crossing his hands over his lap.

“You bled a lot, and you kept waking up each time I tried to remove it.” He says to her. The glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his features onto the oak of the room. His brown eyes meet her widened one’s, he furrowed his brow.

“Are you okay, what’s wrong?” He asked in concern. She shook her head.

“Nothing, it's just.” She gulp’s.

“I haven't heard you speak before.” She admits, his gaze softened on her. There were moments she could catch glimpses of his voice when he mouthed words, it was much deeper then what she had thought it was.

“Where are we?” Valerie asks him. He gulps, clearing his throat.

“Couple mile’s out from the bay, the creature drowned itself so it didn't follow us.” He reassures her, she nods her head.

“How far from the island are we?” She wonder’s, he shrugged his shoulders as though.

“About five miles, give or take.” He inform’s her, she listens hearing the sound of water slushing around, she was on a boat.

“They can't swim, and it’s raining right now, so it’s safe to talk.” He tells her. She groans as she holds her thigh sitting up. He gets to her side. “Hey Hey take it easy.” He soothed her.

“I'm fine.” Valerie state’s, he shakes his head. “You were shot with an arrow and lost a lot of blood.” He reminds her.

“You said you were a fighter pilot, not a nurse.” She teased with a weak laugh. He rolled his eyes at her comments. “Gonna take a lot more than an arrowhead to take me out.” She tells him.

“Clearly.” He chuckled. “Listen, what happened back there.” She start’s, he holds up his hand for her to stop. “Dont..its okay, its over.”

“No, I'm sorry.” Valerie say’s softly, shaking her head. His brows furrowed in confusion at her guilt. “We didn't know they were there, it's fine.” He assured her.

“No I meant I should have done more, I should have swallowed my pain and killed him.” She ranted, biting her lip as she thought about all of it.

“It’s not your fault, none of that was your fault.” Bradley says to her. “They were gonna kill you.” Valerie stammer’s out, she wiped her eye’s. “And you saved me.” He reminded her, and she shook her head.

“You did, I wouldn't have remembered my knife if you hadn't been there.” Bradley admit’s. He stands up, sitting on the gray sheets of the bed she laid on. His plaid shirt unbuttoned, underneath he wore a black shirt.

“They would have drowned me, and killed you.” He tells her.

“Valerie you saved me, you did.” He declares strongly. He glanced down at her bare thigh. Shiver ran down her body as goosebumps painted her arms. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Should probably change your bandage.” He whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat. He stands up walking out of the cabin room. A breath of relief left her lips. she hadn't realized it. She missed human’s, conversation, touching, feeling, and experiencing. She joked before that she ghosted through everything, living only to work. Now she lived to survive, that wasn't living.

He came back into the room with first aid supplies. He sat down in front of her on the floor, and began to unwrap the bandage from her leg. His fingertip’s grazed her thigh, her heart pounded in her ear’s loudly. “You're staring.” He mumbled. She cleared her throat leaning back on her hand’s.

“Sorry..uh just talk to me.please.” She pleaded with him, chuckling nervously. “Um..what was your word on the highway?” Bradley wonder’s, she scoffs. “Sore loser.” She grumbled, shaking her head. He rolled his eye’s as he soaked a cotton ball with alcohol.

“It was cowboy.” Valerie tell’s him. “What!?” He exclaimed, she chuckled, shaking her head. “See what I mean.” She teased him. She hissed through her teeth as hot pain stung her, she grit her teeth sitting up, gripping his arms.

“Fuck motherfuc-agh.” The women swore holding him tightly. His brown eyes looked her up and down.

“Little warning would have been nice.” Valerie mutter’s.

“Sorry.” He breathed out. She shook her head letting go of his arms.

“Can I ask you something?” Valerie wonder’s, he nods his head.

“Yeah sure.” Bradley say’s, he brings cold wet cloth, wiping away the dried blood that dye’s the white red. She glanced at his lips watching as he worked around the wound. She could see the outline of the arrowhead and where he had to cut around her thigh.

“Did you ever visited the Hard Deck?” Valerie asked calmly. He licked his lips looking up from his spot on the floor.

“You said you were a pilot, and that was the popular spot for them.” She recall’s.

“Did you ever go?” She repeats’. “I did.” He answers, she smirks. He place’s a white gauze on the wound, soaking up the blood, placing more around it.

“So you must have seen me at some point right?” Valerie smiled softly. He bit his lip as heat arose to his cheek.

“I did.” He says softly. Her heart pounded, the blonde stared up at her from the floor. His eyes glancing between the wound on her leg, his finger’s working delicately to not hurt her, and her face.

His breath hot on the bare part of her skin, his focus didn't deter him from how close the two were getting. More than they have been since they began their journey. “Did you ever try to talk to me?” She wondered. He wrapped the bandage around her leg tightly.

“I wanted to, you always left before I could.” Bradley admit’s. Her breath hitched at his confession.

“I saw you every Saturday, you alway ordered the same thing.” His brown eyes glanced at her.

“Pale Ale, with a garnish.” He recall’s, her dropped slightly agape.

“And you always looked like you had so much on your mind.” His voice vibrated. Her brows furrowed as she began to rerun scenes from the world before. Every Saturday. She thought. It couldn't be him, could it. “I never got the confidence though, kind of mad at myself on that one.” He chuckled weakly, he shook his head. Her thoughts raced as she played everything back, she only caught glimpses from behind, his sunglasses always his eyes from her, and the crowd’s of civilians and armed forces.

He turned around. “It was you wasn't it?” Valerie say’s, she sits up with her hand in her lap. His heart pounded, he

“Great balls of Fire, every saturday…the piano.” She lists,their eyes not daring to look away.

“Was that you?” She asks softly. He smiled warmly. His hand’s stopped wrapping, he taped it sealing her wound off. Her hand’s hold his on her bare thigh.

"Yes." He anwserd, he looked down at the floor. "That was me." He says.

She smiled, caressing his cheek, making him look her in the eye. The gap between the two of them began to get smaller As his hand slowly trailed to her waist. She holds the back of his neck pulling him in, inhaling deeply as their lips begin to move in sync.

His finger grazes across her skin, the warmth of them contrasting with her cold body. He leaned forward, hooking his hand under knee .

Her back pushed into the grey comforter, the both of them keeping the rhythm of lips . She wrapped her bare leg around his waist, while her other hand played with the hem of his plaid shirt.

She pulled away as sharp pain shot through her body. Valerie held her leg groaning in pain.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his hot breath on her face. She smiled, their foreheads touching. "It's okay…should take it slow." She says softly.

"Not really my style." Bradley teases her, she could feel him smirk.

"Me neither." She agreed. Valerie untangled herself from, he pulled himself away from her. His blonde hair messy from her fingers.

"You should get some rest, I'll see how far we are." He tell's her. He adjusted his pant leg as he turned around. She smirked at her effect.

"You know if this isn't a rumor, then we won't have to worry about that." Valerie teased him. He bit his lip, turning around to face her.

"Are you good on that promise?" Bradley challenged her. She smirked looking him up and down.

" I might be." She smirked. He shook his head as his cheeks became hot. His brown eyes gazed on the injured girl.

"Get some rest." He says walking out of the cabin room. She sighed leaning her head back against the pillow. Groaning loudly as she closed her eyes as the ache in body remained. The boat slowly rocked her back to sleep.

A/N: AND THAT IS ALL SHE WROTE, God i hope this dosent flop because if it does I have to go down with. Anyway's, your favorite smart mouth guy is next.

Tagged: @cowboysandpilots @bobfloydssunnies @sugarcoated-lame @sorchathered @fairyheart @senawashere @swiftsgirlfriend @

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun au #top gun fanfic #top gun one shot #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female oc #A quiet place au #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

Note

SD Native here! I'm so hyped that you get to visit and enjoy my city. 🥰

If you want Mexican food, I suggest anything south of Downtown. Barrio Logan is a killer place for good food - my favourite shop is there.

Balboa Park is gorgeous this time of year - great for photos and just to stretch your legs.

Seaport Village is awesome as well. Definitely tourist-y, but a delight. They usually have live music and a sidewalk market during the day.

Kansas City BBQ (the OG bar location for TG) is decent. Definitely try to eat there earlier - they have a tendency to run out of certain things as the day continues. Prepare yourself to also walk a few blocks if you're renting a car - parking is a biiiiiiitch downtown.

Coronado (where a lot of TGM was filmed) is cool and definitely a must sea (get it?). Great beachy town vibes. You'll absolutely run into aviators and whatnot at the local coffee shop (I used to work on the island, I'm well acquainted 😅).

This is amazing!!! Thank you so much! ❤️

Kansas City BBQ is definitely on my list, just because I want to get to sit in the same place as my beloved Bradshaws 😂 I also definitely want to visit the Top Gun House/HIGH-Pie!

Totally going to put a list together of all these spots!

#san diego recommendations #top gun

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

I'm So Hot For You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley makes you some homemade hot sauce to show his love and appreciation for you being his sexy nurse.

Warnings: Fluff

Length: 1600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

After spending weeks and countless hours helping Bradley heal after he had been injured, you really deserved something special.

And now that you were going to be his wife, Bradley thought you deserved everything. But the one thing he knew you would love that he thought he could give you, was your very own homemade hot sauce.

"Why are we here?" Jake asked him for the tenth time as he and Bradley donned matching aprons that said San Diego Community College across the front.

"To make hot sauce, dumbass."

"Yes, I understand that much, but why are we here? I don't see why you didn't just bring Angel with you."

"It's supposed to be a surprise. You do know what a surprise is, correct?" Bradley asked him, like he was talking to a very small child. "Now put your gloves on so you don't burn your eyes later."

Jake scoffed at him as the instructor introduced herself to the class, and both Bradley and Jake settled onto the stools behind their workstation.

"Hi everyone! My name is Miss Mabel, and I will be your teacher for today," said a very kind looking older woman. Bradley sat up straight on his stool, ready to make a treat that you would love. "It's so nice to see so many couples here. This is a great relationship building exercise."

Jake turned and glared at Bradley. "Couples? Relationship? What did you bring me to, Bradshaw?!"

"I..... oh, shit," Bradley muttered, but Miss Mabel was already talking about different kinds of hot peppers, and Bradley really wanted to take good notes. He started scribbling down everything she was telling them.

After Miss Mabel got everyone started on instructions, she started to walk around the room and help each pair individually.

"You should have brought your future wife to couples cooking class, Bradshaw," Jake said, sorting the peppers by scoville heat units.

"Can you just cooperate and help me, please?" Bradley begged, getting out a set of knives and cutting boards. "You know I can't do this right by myself."

Jake sighed deeply. "It amazes me that you manage to get through the day. Fine, I'll help," he agreed, handing Bradley the peppers in order of hotness to cut up.

"Gentlemen, how are we making out over here?" Miss Mabel asked when she stopped at their table.

Jake just shook his head. "Not sure, Miss Mabel. He's kind of a lost cause in the kitchen, but he's demanding that he takes the lead on this one." Jake held his hands up in surrender.

"I just wanted it to be special," Bradley grunted, dicing up a habanero pepper. "Can't I try to make something special for the person I love?"

Miss Mabel just smiled at them. "Cooking for your significant other is always a gift from the heart."

"Yeah, well... he's being so grouchy about this. He keeps saying he just needs it to be perfect," Jake told her. Then in a hushed voice, he added, "But between you and me, Miss Mabel, his creativity outweighs his ability. And then he gets very snarky when things don't go as planned."

"If I get grouchy, it's usually always your fault," Bradley told Jake as he added an array of peppers to the blender.

"You two seem like polar opposites! How long have you known each other?"

"Too long," Bradley grunted at the same time as Jake said, "Twelve years, Ma'am."

Bradley watched Jake measure out some vinegar and add it to the blender as he chattered along with Miss Mabel.

"That's a long time," Miss Mabel noted. "You two seem to need to work on your communication with each other. I would definitely recommend more of my classes as a fun way to help you with that."

"Thanks. We'll definitely consider it," Jake told her with a wink before she moved to the next table.

Bradley glared at him. "Will you stop fucking around?"

Jake just started cracking up. "She thinks we're in a relationship. With each other."

"Yeah. I caught that," Bradley said, shaking his head. "Now how much vinegar did you add? A teaspoon or a tablespoon?"

"Could you imagine a world in which I would slum it with you, Bradshaw? Hilarious," Jake drawled, settling back onto his stool.

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I would never date you. You are insufferable and irritating. That's probably why my fiancée turned you down. Now, did you add a teaspoon or a tablespoon?"

"Um, the little one," Jake replied, looking unsure of himself.

Bradley tipped his head back and counted to five before looking at Jake again. "Bringing you here was a terrible idea."

"Yeah, mainly because it's for couples, but also because I am no better in the kitchen than you are."

When it was time to sample the sauces, Miss Mabel deemed Bradley and Jake's batch 'nearly inedible' and told them they should 'work on communicating and listening to one another'.

When they left the classroom, Jake checked his phone, completely unfazed by the epic failure. "Wanna stop at the Hard Deck?"

Bradley scowled. "No, I don't want to stop at the Hard Deck! I'm taking my jar of nasty hot sauce home and telling her you ruined it."

Jake just shrugged. "She's going to think it's funny."

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

When Bradley got home, you were just walking up the sidewalk with Tramp on his leash.

"Look! It's Daddy!" you told Tramp as he pulled you along to get to Bradley faster. "Did you have fun with Jake?" you asked Bradley as he scooped Tramp into his arms.

"No," he told you, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

"Where did you guys go, anyway?"

Bradley followed you and Tramp into the house, smiling as the sunlight hit your engagement ring.

"Baby Girl, I just wanted to do something nice for you, but I made this for you instead," he said, holding out the jar of hot sauce to you.

"What is it?" you asked, eyeing it skeptically. Even Bradley found the shade of orangish-green to be off putting, and he would eat pretty much anything.

"Hot sauce."

"Hot sauce?! You made me hot sauce?" you asked, your eyes filled with love as you flung your arms around him. "I love it!"

"Well...." Bradley said while cringing. "Maybe you should taste it before you say that...."

He watched you dip a spoon into the jar, and the look of pure delight on your face turned to one of panic as the sauce touched your tongue. "What the fuck is in this?" you asked, coughing and gagging. Bradley watched you head for the sink, and he tried to suppress a laugh, but he couldn't. "It tastes like sour, evil vinegar."

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. I know it's disgusting. I tried my best. But the teacher thought Jake and I were a couple, and it was a disaster." He poured you a glass of milk and wiped the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

"Wait, what?" you asked, and Bradley told you the entire story. By the end of it, you were cracking up. "Oh, that's hilarious, Roo. I've got to text Jake."

"He said you would think the whole thing was funny. And I guess that's just one reason why I'm marrying you. Because you don't think I'm a complete disaster even when I am."

You looked up from your phone. "Bradley. You're never a disaster."

He shrugged and you wrapped your arms around him again. "I just wanted to surprise you with something you would like, Sweetheart. You were so good to me when I was healing, always making me food and taking care of everything around here."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I think going with Jake was probably your first mistake. We can try to make a hot sauce here. Together. If you want to."

"I took notes. Miss Mabel was actually very thorough."

Bradley watched you skim through his notebook before you grabbed your car keys. "Let's go to the farmer's market before it closes and buy peppers."

You seemed to know what you were doing, so Bradley held your hand and carried everything for you.

"These are the little green peppers in my favorite hot sauce. Should we add them to ours?" you asked, pointing out some kind of pepper Bradley never heard of.

"Definitely, Sweetheart." He watched as you picked out a few more. When you got back home to your kitchen, he felt perfectly at ease as you read Miss Mabel's instructions out loud and put him to work.

Being around you was easy for Bradley in a way he had never experienced before. You laughed as he cut up the peppers and told you more about Miss Mabel's class.

"We should go to a Miss Mabel class together," you told him. "Jake can just fuck off, he's not allowed to be in a relationship with you."

Bradley laughed and agreed, and while you blended everything together, he signed the two of you up for a salsa making class at the college.

"Want to try the first bite?" you asked, offering the spoon to Bradley. He took a small taste, and it was good. Great, even.

"Incredible," he said, and you grinned when you tried it.

"It's perfect," you agreed, and Bradley played with your hair and kissed your neck as you made them eggs covered in homemade hot sauce for dinner.

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

Just a fluffy little moment between these two (and Jake)! One more one-shot and then we dig into another series with these two if you can believe it....

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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

Note

omg we know how YN is about mlbrry’s short shorts but I want to know if there’s something she wears out that makes H absolutely feral

Hot As They Come

prompt: this mini blurb turned into something else completely

warnings: body issues, smut

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

——

He’s a narcissist, so anytime she has his jersey on.

They all were staying at Anne’s lake house (that Harry had purchased her) in Rhode Island for the long weekend - Easton, Cash, and Ezra were in the pool being vigilantly watched by Anne and her friend, Martha when Harry arrives.

He had to fly home from a stretch of games in San Diego, then get in the car, and drive three hours to get to his family.

YN had been inside, laying down with Briar for a nap, having the all fours kids had been exhausting these past two days - plus Briar was freshly one and still had some painful teeth coming in.

When he opens the back gate, he’s automatically met with squeals and whines when his kids realizes he’s finally there.

They’re all floating in the pool with their float vests on, except for Easton who was old enough not to have one.

Chants of ‘daddy’ echo through the backyard as they wave him closer.

Harry being a big child at heart, drops his suitcase, and kicks off his trainers and socks, then his shirt before he’s running towards the pool and cannonballing into the deep end, away from the kids.

When he pops up, hair matted to his head, all of them are giggling wildly - including Anne and Martha as Harry dives back under to pop up near his kids to make them scream in surprise and joy.

The two boys are automatically climbing all over him and he waste no time in tossing them high into the air before they’re sinking into the water.

A whimper comes from his right, near the steps, “Daddy, daddy.”

Harry takes a break from the boys to pout out his bottom lip and swim over to his little boy, scooping him up and wading back into the water.

“Hi bubba, missed you so much,” Harry tells him as he lays his head on his shoulder, sleepy and most likely ready for his own nap.

“Miss you,” He lisps back before his hand is coming up to play with the gold cross on his necklace and tucking his thumb between his lips.

“Mum, where’s YN?” He asks as he drifts towards the edge near where Anne is sat with her feet in the water.

“Inside, she’s taking a nap with Briar,” Anne replies before taking a sip of her own homemade lemonade and swishing her toes.

“Was she tired?” Harry frowns, guilt sinking into his stomach - he knew she had been stressed having to tote all four kids in the car for multiple hours.

She would also lie and tell Harry everything went fine because she didn’t want him to feel bad that he wasn’t there.

“Very. She said that Briar and Ezra were giving her a hard time on the way up. She said Briar’s teeth are coming in and she kept her up all last night,” Anne reports before adding on, “They’ve been asleep for a good three hours so hopefully they feel refreshed when they wake up.”

Harry tries to not internalize it and has to remind himself he’s not a terrible husband or father but he hates when he’s away.

The boys grab his attention again, demanding their father watch them do handstands and swim to the bottom to retrieve dive batons.

All the while, Ezra makes himself comfortable in his dad’s arms and he had removed his life vest so he was more comfortable when he naps against his warm skin.

Harry’s turning quickly when he hears the back door open and his heart jumps like a schoolboy when he sees his wife step onto the patio with his newest little baby just in a swim diaper on her plush hip.

He has to swallow hard when he scans her body, a simple black bikini on with one of his unbuttoned jerseys that’s down to her mid thigh.

She doesn’t even realize how sexy she looks is the thing, he knows she put it on to cover her body a bit more because she’s still a bit self-conscious of some baby weight.

However, he’s basically drooling, the extra weight around her hips, thighs, tummy - decorated with light stretch marks.

Harry hasn’t seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

He wants to bite that soft skin, licks those marks from where her body stretch to accommodate their chunky bubs.

Briar, who’s just learning basic words, squeaks out an excited, “Dadadada.”

Harry wades towards the shallow end where Anne’s waiting to carefully wrap Ezra in a towel while he sleeps, his mother then takes the little boy for a snuggle in the shade.

“Dadada,” Briar continues to whine with a pitiful pout on her face as she makes grabby hands towards her father.

“Oh, hi there, lil’ mama. I missed you so much, little love,” Harry hums as soon as YN shifts the baby into his arms and Briar’s pulling at her dad’s wet locks.

“Dada,” She coos back as Harry winces at the tugs to his hair and his eyes twinkling as he looks at his wife who’s smiling back.

“Hi mama,” Harry murmurs softly as he rocks Briar on his hip, his other hand reaching out to cup her jaw and bring her in for a long kiss.

“Missed you,” YN replies quietly, a bit of sadness and stress in her voice as she runs her hand down his side and squeezes his hip.

“I’m sorry, darling,” He replies back, just as quietly, and moves to kiss her forehead, “You’re such an amazing wife and mama. I appreciate everything you do for this family.”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, lips turned down a bit, “You’re the one who provides for us.”

Harry makes sure they’re making eye contact when he tells her, “What I do for this family is nothing compared to what you provide us.”

“I love you,” YN sighs, leaning over for another quick kiss and adds, “I know you feel guilty but please don’t. I knew what I was agreeing to when we had four kids.”

“Not the first time,” He chuckles, looking fondly back at Easton, who was now seven which was crazy, and thriving.

“Mm, he was just our favorite surprise. Wouldn’t change it for anything,” She replies with a warm smile, leaning over to kiss Briar’s cheek and she lets out the bubbliest giggle.

Martha steps over to them, arms outstretched, “Okay parents, time to share this little muffin with the rest of us.”

Harry slips Briar into the crook of her arm and she goes easily, lounging back and tucking her pacifier that was in her small fist this whole time back into her mouth.

“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Harry hums lowly now that all the babies were out of earshot, his hands coming to her hips.

YN scowls at him, stiff and frustrated when she grits out, “You don’t have to lie to me just because you’re my husband.”

Harry gets defensive instantly, “What would I be lyin’ about?”

“I know I don’t look hot. It’s my first time in a bikini since I had Briar. My stomach is still puffy, my love handles, not to mention my boobs from breastfeeding four kids,” She huffs like it’s obvious as she pinches at skin in her hip.

“Come on, now,” Harry says firmly to her, authority and demand in his voice which wasn’t common for him to take that tone with her, “Mum, you guys okay with watching them for a few?”

Anne waves them off and tells them to enjoy a few minutes alone, they have everything handled.

“Wha-“ YN begins to ask as Harry wraps his hand around her wrist and guides her back into the house, back into their room, and clicks the lock shut.

“Don’t you dare ever insult the body that gave us our four perfect, healthy babies. The body that I fell in love with and am still madly gone for,” Harry nearly hisses as he’s tugging the jersey off of her shoulders until it pools on the ground.

“Harry, I-“

“Just listen to me, would you?” He cuts her off as he kneels in front of her, lips moving over the silky smooth skin of her stomach.

“Love this belly,” Harry praises, kissing, licking, biting at the sensitive skin that has fully went back to normal, “Obsessed with it even. Everything about you gets me hard. I love how you look, I love that you have this, reminds me of what a strong woman you are.”

YN feels embarrassed that she’s getting emotional at his kind words, they were so sincere and reverent that there was no question he meant them.

“These love handles?” Harry scoffs as his large hands grip the extra plush of her hips, “Do you know how sexy it is? Love holding onto them when you ride me.”

His voice had gotten noticeably deeper and gravely with his arousal, standing up and moving to untie her top - letting her breasts falls from where they were held up to appear more perky.

“Don’t get me started on your tits,” He groans as he thumbs at her nipples, being carefully because they were sore from feeding Briar, “Fuckin’ beauties. I remember the first time I got to see ‘em. Swear that was more memorable than when I got drafted. You think I’m gonna complain that they got bigger? You’re crazy.”

YN giggles at that, especially when he gives her a cheeky smile and presses himself against her so he can kiss her again.

His hands go to the ties of her bottoms on each hip, playing with the string as he whispers, “Please let me take these off and ‘ave you. I’ve been starving for it, mama.”

“It’s been a week,” YN chuckles as she bumps there noses - already feeling better about herself, feel more empowered and sexy, “If you’re so hard up, maybe I should help you out.”

“It’s about you. You don’t have to if you don’t- fuckin’ hell, doll,” Harry moans when his damp athletic shorts and briefs are pulled down and YN is kneeling to lick at the bottom side of his hard length.

A thrill shoots about her spine for her husband’s reaction to her mouth, his hands weaving into her locks, and whimpering, “C’mon baby, take me. Can’t be teased right now or I’m gonna come so fast for you.”

“For me?” YN parrots with a mischievous smirk as she pumps him, he’s almost too big for her palm and she loved that.

“F’course, you’re the only thing that makes me come. Whether you’re right in front of me or if m’in my hotel room thinking about you,” Harry pants sweetly, still letting her make the calls when she doesn’t listen and continues to just lap at his dripping tip.

“Best husband,” YN praises him as her hands come up to roll his balls with her thumb, making his cock twitch in her hand.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Harry grunts after another minute or so, he’s leaning down and pulling her up before he’s picking her up and throwing her own the bed as she yelps in surprise, “Give me tha’ cunt.”

YN spreads her legs immediately and Harry is nearly ripping the bottoms off of her lower half before his face is buried between her thick thighs, sucking harshly at her clit as payback.

“Ba-baby,” YN whines in a kittenish tone, pushing her hips up into his mouth to ride his tone to chase her pleasure, “Wha-no!”

YN complains when he pulls back, crudely wiping his mouth on her belly before leaning down and cleaning up her slickness with his tongue.

“Shush up, we don’t have much time. We got four little buggers out there, s’only a matter of time before one of them causes trouble,” Harry quips as he wriggles her bum up off the bed and wrapping her legs around his waist so he can fuck in.

“There,” She moans quietly a few seconds in when he angles just so that his cock is hitting the spot that sets her afire and then he adds a thumb to her clit for extra stimulation.

“Yeah, I know,” He murmurs cockily, fingers dimpling the skin where he’s holding on to her upper thighs as he pushes his narrow hips into her center over and over again.

Harry nearly comes on the spot when YN redirects on of her hands to her throat, she doesn’t have to say anything before Harry’s gripping at the sides of her neck with his fingers.

“How could you think that you’re not perfect? You’re as hot as they come,” Harry tells her as her limbs loosen and she climaxes, he lets go of the pressure on her throat and follows suit.

“I love you,” YN hums when he collapses on top of her, “Welcome home. You played amazing in San Diego.”

“I love you more,” Harry replies as he smatters kisses along her cheeks, “Those guys were a buncha of ass-“

The both turn their heads when they hear echoing through the backyard a wail that was no doubt Cash because Easton wasn’t sharing a water toy.

“It was fun while it lasted,” YN snickers as they roll of the bed and begin to redress so that they can go back out and take over parenting duties.

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