what the fuck would you do

oh also if you have been with that person for five years

ive been deep in one of my old ships lately (harvey and mike from suits) and damn they were loyal as fuck so like everything else in my life, i wrote a hangster version :p

-

You could take everything from Bradley Bradshaw.

The cruel thing was that life already had.

His mother? Gone.

His father? Gone.

His godfathers? Gone.

The Navy? Taken from him more than once, in all the ways that mattered.

Name it, and chances were Bradley had already watched it slip through his fingers.

But there was one thing no one had ever managed to take from him.

Not when he was a boy.

Not when he buried people he loved.

Not when the Navy chewed him up and spat him back out.

Strip him of his rank. Strip him of his medals. Strip him of every last possession until there is nothing left but skin, bone, and soul.

There is still one thing you will never take from Bradley Bradshaw.

His loyalty.

Because Bradley Bradshaw is loyal in a way that borders on tragedy.

Utterly.

Blindly.

And when it comes to Jake Seresin, that loyalty has never once wavered.

They’re both long past the reckless pilots they used to be (at least Bradley). Bradley is a goddamn admiral now. They’ve known each other for over twenty years.

And still.

The loyalty remains.

Even if neither of them has ever been brave enough to name whatever lives between them.

Even if they’re both stubborn enough to die before admitting it.

The loyalty remains exactly the same.

Sometimes Bradley thinks it would be nice if Jake made his job a little easier.

Even now, he has his own Maverick. Somethings really don’t change.

The thought pulls a small smile from him.

“You’re risking your title for him.”

Admiral Stevens practically spits the words.

Bradley doesn’t even look up at first.

“The Navy needs Captain Seresin.”

His signature cuts across the page in one smooth stroke.

“He will face no consequences from this.”

“Admiral Bradshaw—”

“Have I not been clear?”

Only then does Bradley raise his eyes.

The room seems to shrink around the weight of them.

The other admiral exhales slowly.

“Understood, sir.”

Bradley nods once and returns to his paperwork.

The matter is settled.

An hour later, his phone buzzes.

Still have a soft spot for me, huh? ;)

Bradley stares at the message for a moment before a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Soft spot.

As if that’s what this is.

As if Jake doesn’t understand.

As if loyalty isn’t the language they’ve been speaking to each other for twenty years.

Bradley shakes his head and sets the phone down.

Loyalty, he thinks.

i fucking love your blog and your writing youre so so so so cool !!!!!!!

hope you like it <3

-

“Holy shit,” Bradley says with awe, “you really can see the stars so clearly.”

“Told ya,” Jake says with a small smile, eyes drifting to Bradley’s face instead of the sky. He’ll never admit it out loud, but that smile right there? He’d do just about anything to keep it.

They’re lying on top of Jake’s old truck, stargazing, which sounds extremely teenage, sure. But they’re in love.

So if they’re in their thirties, stretched out on warm metal like high schoolers, then… whatever.

“This one’s called Sirius,” Jake says, pointing. “Brightest star out here.” He glances back at Bradley, still smiling. “I always try to find it when I’m not home.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jake leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Bradley’s shoulder, letting his head rest there. “Reminds me of home.”

Bradley’s smile turns gentle. He kisses Jake’s hair, slow and fond.

—

Bradley pulls his shirt off the moment he gets home.

“Well, hello to you too, darling,” Jake says, amused, already tugging his own shirt over his head. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“What are you doing?” Bradley asks.

“…Are we not about to have sex?”

Bradley laughs. “No.”

“You are giving extremely mixed signals, baby,” Jake says, but he lets Bradley climb into his lap anyway, hands settling automatically on his waist.

“Look,” Bradley says.

“Oh, I am looking,” Jake murmurs, eyes dipping over Bradley’s chest and abs.

Bradley rolls his eyes, takes Jake’s face in his hands, and turns his head slightly. “Look.”

Jake stills.

There’s a small star on Bradley’s shoulder. Covered with clear filma and underneath it, coordinates.

Jake swallows. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” Bradley breathes. “It’s your home in Texas, the coordinates. And the star… you said it made you think of home, so I thought—”

Jake kisses him.

Soft at first. Then deeper. Like his chest can’t hold everything he’s feeling.

And somewhere in that moment, Jake realizes—

home isn’t a place.

-

“I’m just so angry,” Bradley says, and his voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. “I have all this anger.” His hand presses flat against his sternum, fingers curling slightly, like he might be able to dig in and pull the feeling out by the roots. “It’s just… here. All the time. And I don’t know what to do with it.”

The room is silent, Bradley knows by heart, but he still can’t face the gentle look on Ali’s face.

“Bradley,” Ali says sofly, “can we try something?”

Bradley nods. Talking feels hard. His throat feels tight, full.

“I want you to imagine you’re watching yourself,” Ali says. “Like you’re a character in a movie. What would you think about him?”

Bradley swallows. His eyes sting.

“I think… I’d be mad at him,” he admits quietly. “I’d think… why are you so sad? You finally have everything you wanted. So why isn’t it enough?”

Ali’s expression is warm, and kind. He is not what Bradley had expected, he had imagined someone older, from the army maybe. What he got was just a skinny guy with glasses and calm.

“Weren’t you saying,” he asks softly, “that all you felt was anger?”

Bradley’s breath catches.

Oh.

Yeah.

-

“Hi, baby.”

Jake’s voice is warm sunlight, casual and bright, the way it always is when Bradley walks through the door. He’s on the couch with a book, domestic in a way that still feels surreal sometimes like Bradley accidentally wandered into the life he used to daydream about at twenty.

Jake looks up.

The smile doesn’t disappear. It just… changes.

He knows. Of course he knows.

Bradley nods once in greeting, but he feels like he’s floating three feet behind his own body. He sits at the far end of the couch, shoulders hunched, hands locked together between his knees.

Jake stays where he is.

He’s learned. Bradley hates being touched when the feelings first hit when everything inside him is too loud and too sharp. Jake, who used to barrel into everything at full speed, has somehow become the most patient man alive.

Love did that, apparently.

“This is stupid,” Bradley mutters. His voice sounds wrecked. “It’s so stupid. I’m thirty seven years old. I can’t believe I’m crying over—”

He cuts himself off, jaw tightening.

“I’m just so—” His breathing stutters. His palm slams against his chest again, like he’s trying to hold himself together. “Jake,” he whispers.

Jake moves then, slow enough to be permission instead of pressure. “Can I touch you?”

A small nod.

Jake gently pulls Bradley’s hand away from his chest and wraps his fingers around his wrist, checking his pulse. Fast. But not the worst they’ve seen.

He guides Bradley’s hand to his own neck. “Match me,” he murmurs.

It’s something they figured out together, Jake’s steady heartbeat acting like a model to Bradley’s nervous system.

“Do you want to talk?” Jake asks.

Bradley tries. A frustrated sound comes out instead, halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know how to word it.”

“Okay,” Jake says immediately, like that’s the easiest thing in the world. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Bradley’s forehead. “Do you want a bath?”

Bradley nods.

“Okay. We can do that.”

They walk to the bathroom holding hands, Bradley trailing slightly behind. He sinks down onto the floor while Jake turns on the water, testing the temperature.

The tub isn’t designed for two grown men, especially two broad shouldered pilots but that has never stopped them before.

“Do you want help undressing?” Jake asks.

Bradley hesitates.

Jake sees it, the flicker of shame, the moment Bradley feels like a burden instead of a partner.

So Jake flops dramatically onto the floor beside him and groans. “My back is killing me today,” he complains, making an exaggerated face. “You think you could help me? Please? I’m a fragile old man.”

Bradley’s head snaps up, his own pain forgotten. “Of course.”

Jake would commit actual war crimes for this man.

Bradley helps him out of his shirt, careful and focused, hands steady now that he has a task. Then Jake returns the favor, movements gentle without making a big deal of it.

They climb into the tub together, knees tangled awkwardly, Bradley settling with his back against Jake’s chest.

Jake’s fingers slide into Bradley’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“I love you,” Bradley whispers.

Jake presses his cheek against Bradley’s temple. “I love you too, baby.”

It isn’t a fix. They both know that. The conversation will have to happen eventually.

But for now, there is warm water. Steady hands. A heartbeat he can follow.

For now, there is love.

Okay okay how about Bradley's kid dropping on purpose or not a valentine rose at Jake's feet leading to Jake stopping the kid to give it back.

Bradley arrives panicking about a stranger talking to his chick, only to have Jake accidentally proposing to be Bradley's Valentine? 😉

aw happy love day sweetheart ! here's a 💐 for u too, have a wonderful day <3

we both love little Charlotte being a menace sweetheart so here you go :) (it's a bit different than your ask but the idea is here, hope you like it Red!)

Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin, single dad Bradley, fluff, meet-cute

-

Charlotte had been staring at the Valentine’s Day cards for ten minutes.

They were too high.

She was not.

She’d been saving for two weeks for Love Day. Because her daddy didn’t have anyone to spend it with except her, and she knew you were supposed to have a grown up for that. She was only five, but she knew things.

Charlotte rose onto her tiptoes, tongue sticking out in concentration as she reached for the glittery red card on the top rack. Her fingers brushed cardboard. Victory was so close.

“Hey sweetheart, need a hand?”

Charlotte froze, then slowly turned.

A very tall blond man—tall tall, like daddy tall—was smiling down at her.

“I’m trying to get a card for my daddy,” she admitted, pride slightly wounded.

“Important mission,” he said softly. “Which one?”

She pointed dramatically.

He grabbed it and crouched to her level. “Do you wanna draw something inside? That’s usually the best part.”

Her entire face lit up. “YES.”

She shoved the flowers she’d already chosen into his hands like he worked there and immediately dropped to her knees to draw herself and her dad inside a huge wobbly heart.

“Charlotte!”

Oh no.

Bradley came rushing down the aisle and scooped her up. “Baby, what did I say about wandering off? I’ve been losing my mind—”

“But daddy!” Charlotte interrupted, holding up the card proudly. “I was getting you gifts for Love Day!”

Bradley blinked.

Then he noticed the tall blond man still kneeling on the floor, holding a bouquet of flowers like he’d just proposed to someone by accident.

“Jesus,” the man muttered, standing quickly. “Hi. I’m Jake. I was just helping your daughter reach a card. And, uh… flowers.”

He handed them over awkwardly.

Bradley swallowed. “Oh. Thank you. That's uh very kind.”

Charlotte watched in fascination as her father’s ears turned pink.

“I’m Bradley,” he added.

“Nice to meet you,” Jake said.

“Nice to meet you too."

Silence. Great, c'mon Bradley.

Charlotte buried her face in Bradley’s neck. Adults were so weird.

Jake cleared his throat and started walking down the aisle with unnecessary speed.

“Daddy!” Charlotte reminded him, shoving the card in his face. “It’s for Love Day!”

Bradley tore his eyes away from where Jake had disappeared (and, okay, maybe from Jake’s very nice ass) and looked at the drawing.

His heart melted immediately.

“Thank you, baby,” he said softly. “Happy Love Day.”

“Happy Love Day, daddy!” she said, kissing his cheek.

-

He was loading groceries into the car when Bradley spotted Jake again in the parking lot.

He was holding a bouquet.

Of course he was.

Of course, a guy who looked like that wasn’t single. Probably had a wife. Maybe a golden retriever. Two kids?

Bradley sighed internally.

And then Jake walked straight toward him.

“Uh, hi,” he said, smiling nervously. “I don’t wanna seem like a creep, but your daughter was really sweet. And I don’t usually celebrate Valentine’s Day. And I’ve been painfully single for… honestly, an embarrassing amount of time. So. Um. Here.”

He handed Bradley the flowers.

Bradley was too busy noticing how Jake’s green eyes caught the winter sunlight to process the rambling.

“Oh. Thank you,” he said faintly.

Really, Bradley? That’s your move?

“Dad! I’m hungry!” Charlotte yelled from the backseat.

“I’ll—I’ll let you go,” Jake said quickly, already backing toward his car.

Bradley stood frozen for a solid thirty seconds before getting into the driver’s seat.

“Ohhh,” Charlotte said suspiciously from the back. “Daddy bought me flowers?”

“Honey, those are from the guy who helped you.”

“Oh.” She undid her belt to see better, "It has a note!"

Bradley’s heart did something extremely unhelpful.

He grabbed the card and read,

Hoping you’re single, and at least a little bi. I’d love to get to know you and your adorable daughter more. Happy Love Day. – Jake (858) 226-2824

Bradley definitely did not smile for two straight minutes.

And if Charlotte absolutely did not stop giggling the entire drive home?

Well.