Mirimim - M

MARK LEE / SMOOTHIE (240328)

Such a cute chapter 🫠

My Future in You | 1.9 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, kind of a filler )):

…

Back and forth, back again. White socks padding along the floor, his eyes following you like he’s in the crowd at a tennis match. Bradley watches in silence. He’s sitting back against the wall behind his bed, since he doesn’t have a headboard, arms folded over his chest.

Asking about the future has clearly triggered some kind of meltdown, and at this point, he knows better than to intervene. Instead, he grabs the baseball on his bedside table and tosses it upwards, catching it again.

Each time it lands in his palm, you turn. Pacing from one side of his room to the other, ranting about the logistics of his question. It’s been around fifteen minutes now, Bradley’s sitting in his boxers and a t-shirt, paying less and less attention.

You’ve moved on to the second phase of your rant now. Phase one was about you and him — barely knowing each other, not even liking one another. That kind of thing. He had tried disagreeing, but you’re better at rationalizing than he is.

This is more about the financial side of things.

“I have money.” Bradley shrugs his shoulders calmly, the ball bounces off of the ceiling and ricochets — he leans off of the bed and catches it. Without looking back at you, he continues to toss it up and catch it again. You stare at him.

The boy sitting on the cheap mattress, tossing up a baseball he had taken from this year’s freshman orientation. The father of your child.

You scoff incredulously. Beige walls, plain navy sheets and football banners on the walls. Like this is the kind of home you’d like to raise your child in. “Real money. Babies aren’t cheap, and I’ll be working — do you know how much daycare costs?”

“I have real money.”

You inhale sharply. Everything’s hitting you all at once. You had been putting off this conversation for a reason and now you’re freaking out. You’ve got less than twenty weeks to get your shit together. Stopping by the door, you prop your weight up against it and breathe out hard.

“Real real money, Bradley — I barely even have a credit score, there’s no way we’re getting approved for an apartment.”

“My credit score is good and I’ve got money from the house.” He shrugs again, spinning the ball around in his hand and tossing it up. Too hard, once again. It bounces from the ceiling and ricochets. You catch the ball.

He looks up at you, finding you staring at him now. He raises his eyebrows.

“House?”

“Yeah, my parents’ house.” Bradley replies, settling down and tucking his arm behind his head now that you’re squeezing his only source of entertainment so hard that he’s somewhat concerned you might crush it. He was certain he had mentioned this to you before. “I inherited it after my Mom died.”

The house, the two life insurance policies. There had to be some kind of upside to losing both of his parents before he had turned twenty. You stand by his door, dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry… so, you own a house?” You squeak out.

He shrugs his shoulders again, glancing down at the baseball in your hands and sighing. “Yeah, it’s by the base in Norfolk. My dad was stationed there for a bit in the eighties. I was going to sell it, but my cousin’s staying there. He pays me rent.”

You take a small step towards him. He runs his fingers through his curls, tilting his head, smiling softly. Those stupid, big brown eyes stare into yours. He lifts his hand and reaches out for you.

“I’ve got this,” He nods, curling his fingers for you to come closer. You swallow softly as you step towards him. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, parting his thighs. You step between his legs. Bradley rests his hands on your hips.

He leans forwards, pressing his lips gently to your stomach over your sweater. “We’ve got this. You’ve been saying it since the beginning.”

You soften slightly, pushing your fingers through his auburn curls. He looks up at you, lips quirked up into a smile. Suddenly, his brows furrow.

“Wait, so — when I offered you money in December… what did you think I meant?” He frowns slightly, stroking his hands along your sides. Thinking back to it, you shrug.

“A couple hundred, I don’t know. You were being a dick.”

He chuckles and pulls you forwards so that you’re perched on his knee. His perpetually warm skin pressing flush against yours. He wraps his arms around you and nods his head. “I’m sorry.”

Bradley has successfully bypassed your first two protests to moving in together, leaving you to sit and think about your options now. Graduation is two months away, the baby’ll be here a few months after that.

You look at Bradley, trailing your fingers through his curls tenderly as you think about your future with him.

Sitting, rolling, crawling. Experiencing all of that with your son, taking him to the park and to the pool — all while Bradley’s a couple of hundred miles away, on his own.

Could you do this without Bradley? — Probably. It’s just that you’re starting to question whether you want to anymore. This morning, you had a boyfriend — not Bradley. Now you’re sitting here discussing moving in with him.

“But my job is going to be here.” You say quietly, frowning at him.

He nods his head. “I thought about that. There are offices near Pensacola, it’ll just be a case of calling them up and asking to switch. Which, your dad’ll be able to organise for you.”

“Did you forget that he kind of disowned me?”

Bradley shakes his head, “No, I remembered, but he spoke about how proud he was of you for getting that grad scheme at a couple of events, it’s on google. People would probably ask questions if you suddenly dropped out of it, right? — It’ll be easier for you to work if we’re together, so it’s in his best interests to make a phone call.”

Once again, he renders you silent. This is not the same idiot you’ve been putting up with for the past few months. He skims his hand along your thigh and shrugs his shoulders.

“So, yes?”

Your lips quirk softly at the edges, that thundering beat in your chest finally slowing. He grins, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to yours. He knows that his parents would be proud of him, using his money for this.

It beats blowing it on alcohol and new cars. He’s happy with his bronco and cheap beer. He knows he’d be even happier getting to see his son grow every day.

“Where’s all this coming from?” You murmur softly, pulling back and trailing your fingertips back down his arm.

Jake makes it home a little after 9am the next morning, his head pounding as he tries to close the door as quietly as possible. He stumbles forwards into the kitchen, needing water urgently before he blacks out. Eyes closed, he turns on the sink and sticks his head under the stream of water, mouth wide open.

A soft giggle to his left draws his attention. He lifts his head and squints. You’re sitting on Bradley’s lap at the table, both of you looking over the top of a laptop at Jake. He stares at the two of you, blank-faced.

“Morning, sunshine.” Bradley teases playfully. You laugh softly and nudge your elbow into his ribs. He kisses your jaw tenderly, wrapping his arms around your middle.

If Jake didn’t feel sick before, staring at the two of you is certainly getting him there.

“What are you two so chirpy about?” He mumbles tiredly.

You open your mouth to answer. You’ve been awake half of the night, figuring out how to delicately break this to Jake. He’s not going to take it well, and you know you need to approach this with some sensitivity.

“We’re moving in together.” Bradley answers, smiling.

You close your mouth quickly as Jake’s gaze turns towards you. The look on your face tells him that it’s true, and that’s as much as he cares to hear. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

There’s something about knowing that there’s nothing he can do to intervene that really just makes his hangover that little bit worse. Knowing that his little sister is planning to move to the other side of the country, with a baby and that idiot — and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He turns away from you both, shaking his head as he leaves the kitchen without a word. Bradley scoffs, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the apartment listings.

It’s three days before Jake speaks to either of you again. The only thing that gets him to cave is hearing you crying in Bradley’s room. He’s halfway up the stairs, stopping in his tracks. The walls here are paper thin, he can hear the bass in Bradley’s voice as he murmurs to you, trying to get you to calm down.

He finds himself equal parts angry and confused with you. Jake understands that you’re scared of doing this alone, but he’ll never understand how you can give Bradley so many chances. He has hurt you time and time again, and Jake can’t stand the thought of him not being there to protect you.

You flinch as the door to Bradley’s room swings open. Jake second-guesses it as the door’s halfway opening, relieved to find that you’re both fully dressed once it’s fully open. He folds his arms over his chest. Bradley sits up, unwrapping his arms from around you.

You whimper softly, trying to stop the stream of tears as you push yourself to the edge of the bed.

“Pensacola.” It’s all that Jake manages to say. Bradley’s brows furrow in confusion, he nods slowly at your brother. Jake exhales. “Fine. I’ll come too.”

“Excuse me?” Bradley scoffs. It’s not exactly what he had in mind — you, him, your son… and Jake.

“Flight school, can’t be that hard if they’ll let you in.” Jake replies. You sit up and wipe at your cheeks, sniffling softly. Bradley turns his head towards you, then back towards Jake. You push yourself up and throw yourself at his chest, wrapping your arms around your big brother. Bradley’s lips quirk amusedly.

It might not have been what he had planned, but then again — none of this is. Leaving his future in the hands of Seresin’s hasn’t worked out badly for him before, and he knows that you’ll like having Jake nearby. But Jake’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’ll be a better pilot.

…

@thedroneranger

@chaoticweirdogeek

@alanadetigy

@itsmytimetoodream

@oldnatgwenaccount

@khaylin27

@bioodforbiood

@luckyladycreator2

@mizzzpink

@mak-32

@cherrycola27

@unordinare

@shanimallina87

@marvel-f1-and-more

@heli991113

@pauv-0414

@ghxst-heart

@momc95

@asteria33

@lilyevanswhore

@diamond-3

@galaxy-moon

@shawnsblue

@jostyriggslover96

@forgiveliv

@shawnsblue

@little-wiseone

@lovemesomevesey

good evening joker out hotline ☎️

Behind Closed Doors

Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!reader

masterlist

Chapter Two:

Warnings: mention of sex, drinking game, drunk texts

All of last night, your mind was all over the place. Your thoughts raced around like you were drunk. Ironic.

"You look well," Jere sarcastically said, pointing out your dark circles and the tired look in your eyes. You were getting ready backstage for rehearsals, now dressed in the same neon pink dress and orange tan along with Jere who was in his bright green bolero, both lighting up the dressing room.

"Thanks, I hadn't realised." You deadpanned while playfully smacking him, expecting to hurt him back, but instead of hitting his actual arm, you were met with his stupid inflated bolero muscle which did nothing on impact except flop a bit, earning an annoyed grunt out of you.

You were already irritated with your mind, thoughts, memories of the party or lack thereof, and not to mention the unspoken flirty tension - everything. Everything left you so confused and in need of answers.

Jere laughed at your smack but he saw the uncomfortable look in your eyes, "Hey, what's wrong? Something I said?" He raised an eyebrow and giggled momentarily but seeing the look still on your face paired with your grunt, he didn't tease you any further. He cares about you, not only because you are good friends, but because you are also his dancer and he needs everyone well enough to rehearse and perform.

He gently pressed a hand to your shoulder, hoping to lessen your uneasiness. "Y/n, is something wrong?"

You were not going crave in and spit out everything on your mind like this, not in some sort of fit of rage or anxiety, no, not that easy...so you lied...for now. "I just didn't sleep that well." (it's fine, you technically weren't lying...)

"Nervous for the first rehearsal?" Jere asked softly as his caring eyes looked at you, "I know how you feel, I am too, but we are in this together." he smiled. (Yeah, too together it seems...)

He assumed you were nervous for this reason so you decided to go with it. Again, it's not technically a lie. "Yeah," you smiled weakly at him, not wanting to worry him more or latch further onto the fact that there was more troubling you. It was time to focus on the rehearsals for the competition in less than a week. You know, for Eurovision, the whole reason you're all here! It seems you have forgotten...been too distracted.

Of course, he knew you well and definitely could tell there was something you weren't telling him but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable and push you any further, so he let it go. He knew that when you were ready you would talk to him. After all, he is your friend...

During rehearsals, you tried so hard to concentrate, truly, yet no matter how many times you practised your performance with the other dancers and Käärijä, your thoughts continued to race, only feeding into your anxiety more.

Not even your dance moves dashing you across the stage could stop your racing thoughts.

You even almost stumbled over your own feet, nearly causing to ruin the dance for everyone. Skilfully, you regained composure like the true professional you were. Now, if only you could do that when Bojan talks to you...

Speaking of Bojan, he was currently secretly watching you from afar - admiring your every move - even the few you had done wrong, which he didn't think were wrong since he knew nothing about dancing. He just thought they all looked so elegant coming from you. The way your hips swayed in the tight pink dress, the manner you strode across the stage, your glossy hair that swung with every move.

All of it.

He had told himself he was admiring you, not creepily spying. Although, if anyone caught him looking at you, they'd probably think the latter. Even worse, if it was one of the other Joker Out guys. He'd never hear the end of it so he decided to go back to the guys, remembering to be back later which is ironically when he has rehearsals, after taking a final peek at you.

****

Following a tiring morning of rehearsals, even though it was now only the afternoon, all you wanted to do was go to your hotel room, shower, get comfy, (scream into your pillow) and go to sleep. But no, oh no, the universe was still not on your side. Outside, Bojan caught up with you and Käärijä, standing before your out-of-breath selves.

Inside your body screamed because you weren't looking your best again, just like yesterday when Bojan saw you in the same orange tan and fake teeth, only this time it was worse since you were sweating and out of breath from performing. Nonetheless, on the outside, you attempted to put on a brave face. "Hey! You're still going to that bar later, right?" he asked cheerfully and explained how everyone else invited was still up for it, so you could tell he was really hoping you'd both be there.

"Yes, yes, it will be fun!" Käärijä replied happily, as to him nothing was wrong.

On the other hand, you made an effort to avoid looking Bojan in the eye because you were afraid that if you did so, he may decide to bring up another incident that may or may not have occurred at the party, like before.

Your way of having false confidence did nothing as he still gave you attention by smiling, thankfully not another reference to something at the party, although, you could still see a glint of smugness in his eyes. Luckily, you all parted ways so you could begin getting ready, but you were worried about seeing him later. You really liked him, so what happened in that sauna? All you could remember was everyone being tipsy and...a kiss, you guessed, with your blurry memory. Was this tension you've been sensing all been a joke or did you actually do...something? You needed answers and ultimately thought it was time to talk to Jere. You did finally have some time to spare anyway...

Then, you both slugged your way back from the venue, tired from the rehearsal. But you both knew it was worthwhile for the competition. The finals were any day now.

When the two of you were at the hotel and in your respective rooms your first thought was to look for your phone, considering you hadn't seen it since last night...when you watched that interview. At that very moment, your memory jogged, and you remembered you were using your phone at the party. Phone...party... That's it! The answers may very well lie in your phone! Now you just have to actually find it...

****

A bomb dropped in your room.

At least that's what it looked like because you had ripped your entire room apart trying to look for your damn phone. The stupid block of technology probably holds some very important details, including but not excluded from; highly embarrassingly drunk additions to your camera roll and messaging apps, or worse, social media. So you desperately needed it now otherwise you might start believing you've made all this tension up as well as that sauna dream - That it was really a dream after all. Truly questioning your sanity right now.

"You don't remember a single thing do you?" As if to make things worse, Bojan's words from yesterday rang through your head, taunting you as you continued wading through the mess of clothes and items scattered across your floor to search for your phone.

Although it was harder now that the bomb (you) ruined it and your unanswered questions lingered tirelessly at the front of your mind.

Much to your sanity, his words were not true as when you finally found your phone you found something on it. Your dream was correct, and so were your suspicions;

Someone had crept in as you stood letting out a frustrated groan as you faced your messy room.

"Looking for this?" Jere asked innocently while holding your phone up in front of you.

Spinning around you almost tripped on the clutter on the floor, startled by his presence. In the action, however, you noticed the phone and instantly snatched it out of his hand while giving him a suspicious look. Funnily enough, you were very clumsy for a dancer.

You still hadn't answered back to him as you proceeded to go through your phone, determined to find evidence - there it was, you saw it with your own eyes: drunken photos, most were very blurry though you could tell what it was of - the three of you drinking and partying in the sauna - hot and sweaty. Your fingers frantically swiped through more photos, it got worse: You were stripping, thankfully keeping some decency, since you had kept your underwear on.

You gasped as you swiped through even more photos as memories came flooding back. Especially at one photo that almost made you drop your phone: Bojan kissing you, on the lips. Or you kissing Bojan. You didn't know who initiated it but at this current moment, you could feel his warm lips lingering on yours, making them tingle. Your fingers brushed your lips as your wide eyes stared intensely at the photo, needing proof he hadn't followed Jere into the room and wasn't actually kissing you right now.

Overwhelmed, you threw the phone on your bed. It landed beside you as you crashed face-first into your pillow, letting out a scream. Jere stood quizzically for a beat before glancing down at your unlocked phone still displaying your photo gallery... He blinked a few times in disbelief, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, then began laughing hysterically. "I forgot you did that!" He clutched his stomach as he continued to laugh while moving closer to you who groaned at his reaction to all of this.

"Tuhma!" He teased as he playfully poked the side of your cheek instantly making you snap your head to the side and try to bite his finger. "Tuhma," he repeated under his breath as he acted faux offended, rubbing his finger on his hoodie as if it hurt while you glared at him.

"It's not funny!" You whined.

"It is..."

Glaring still, you playfully kicked him in the shin and sat upright.

"Okay, okay!" Jere put his hands up in defence.

"Careful, next time I will kick you where it hurts." You glared and glanced up at him causing him to keep his hands up in defence and take a step back in precaution.

"I doubt Bojan remembers it," He tried to reassure you but you had already sensed the tension and also the fact Bojan told you 'You don't remember anything at all, do you?'...

In a huff you ripped the phone from his hand again and shoved it in your pocket, not even wanting to look at it. At the virtually indecent photos with your best friend and his friend... You sighed and looked up at Jere in the eyes sceptically. "Did you see the last picture?..." You quietly asked, prompting his eyebrow to raise and his head to tilt in confusion.

Without a word you whipped out your phone again, showing him the kissing picture. "Oh," was all that came out of his still semi-confused self. "I thought the stripping was worse to be hon-" He started but interjected when he saw you frown again. Whichever you hated more would be what he'd try to focus on and help you with, regardless of what he thought was worse or not. In this case, it wasn't the stripping, or at least for now it wasn't, it was the fact that you and Bojan had kissed. And there was photographic evidence of this.

"Do you and Bojan remember it?" You caught him off guard with your question. "Because I barely did until now."

"I mean, kind of. Now that I see the pictures too," He shrugged and sat next to you.

"So it wasn't weird?"

"No, it is a sauna and we were drunk!" He attempted to comfort you once more, yet his next words were risky. "You do that all the time with me-"

"Jere!" you whacked him on the arm. "I- It was a sauna..." you tried to validate your actions as he did. "That's what you do..."

"What? Kiss people?" He giggled and nudged his elbow on your arm and his eyebrows wiggled teasingly.

"Remember what I said about that kick? It's still on the table. And I meant stripping!" you groaned out but your face went red as you realised what you said. "No! I mean, like, wearing little to nothing!" you covered your blushing cheeks and moaned out of embarrassment and annoyance.

"He hardly experienced the Finnish way. It's not like you were fully naked." He laughed and shrugged again, knowing that other cultures would probably be weirded out by that.

"I know that's normal but not to him, he probably thinks I'm some slut!" With another groan, you got up and hastily poured yourself a drink.

"What?" He shook his head, "No, he doesn't, you're overthinking. That kiss says otherwise-"

"I WILL KICK YOU-"

"You wouldn't," he grinned at you and laid down on the bed to watch you pour a drink, although in his vision you were now upside down, with a nice view of your a-

You turned back round.

With your drink in your hand (a cocktail of your choice with an added pink mini umbrella floating in there) you strut over to Jere and with your free hand, you playfully punch him where it hurts.

His knees raised slightly while he grunted in pain, rolling on his side, and laughed, "That was a punch, not a kick."

"I'll show you a kick!" You pulled him up off the bed and kicked him making him fall to the knees. "You asked for it," you laughed at him.

"True," he rasped.

When he recovered he grabbed a drink for himself - Glögi - which he bought tons of to drink throughout the year. "You just found out you basically have nudes with us and now you're having a cocktail. Don't you think you need something stronger?" He giggled.

"I'll show you something stronger," and before he knew it he was being playfully tackled to the ground, spilling his drink in the process. "NOT MY GLÖGI!"

All that anyone walking past the hotel room could hear was him screaming and you laughing.

Quality time.

****

"Are you going to get drunk?"

"Are you?!"

Chatter circulated amongst the bar and most of all back and forth in the group.

Staring at the glistening ceiling lights, your mind zoned out. Catching the warm comforting glow was much easier to face - compared to Bojan - since discovering the pictures. Did Bojan remember the kiss? Is he wanting more? Does he think you're being easy to get? Does--

"Y/n, are you okay?" Sat next to you, Kris kindly asked as the others continued joking about something you weren't paying attention to.

Immediately, you snapped back to reality and stared widely at him, as you did not expect him to ask you that. Quickly composing yourself, you cleared your throat and sat straight.

"Yeah, just daydreaming for a sec," An awkward laugh slipped from your mouth.

"Daydreaming?" Jan teased with his brow arched and a sly smirk, as he seemingly overheard you, pushing everyone's attention on you. "Who's the lucky guy?" He looked at you then Kris.

A tinge of red crept its way across your cheeks, only further egging onto his claim that you were daydreaming of someone. Of course, they didn't know that your daydream was not one of a favourable kind - you just wanted answers, instead of asking yourself the same questions over and over.

Speaking of questions, "How about we play a game of Never Have I Ever?!" Bojan asked and you mentally thanked him as if he saved you from whatever awkward questions would arise, although now you were regretting that too because Never Have I Ever is notorious for doing exactly that.

Nevertheless, he caused the group to erupt in excitement, agreeing. "Okay, we'll start easy," Bojan smiled and pulled his phone out to look up questions.

You decided to play along with it, maybe this could be your way to get some answers. If you were going to play you might as well play the best to your advantage.

The game began.

"Never have I ever..." - Bojan began to laugh - "fucked in a public place?"

Was he doing this on purpose?

"You said you would start easy!" Jure exclaimed, followed by laughter and agreement on the unfairness from the rest, and you simply rolled your eyes at his antics.

"It was the first one I saw! I'm sorry!" He continued to laugh as he held his free hand up defensively. "But you're wrong anyway, it would be easy if you have not done it...so, own up." He leaned on his elbows and rested his chin in his hands, smirking up at his friends.

They glanced at each other expectantly, waiting for someone to own up, but alas, no one did. "Disappointing. Anyway," Bojan took his shot glass and downed it - which meant a yes.

Collectively, the group was just as shocked as each other, before everyone started cheering him on, patting him on the back. "Oh, man, you just chose that to show off!" One of the guys said.

"As long as you used protection I guess..." You said nonchalantly, shrugging, as you still laughed a little. Play it cool, you thought.

"Of course," - Bojan held his pointer finger up as if to tell you to wait and pulled out the band's blue condom they sell on their website from his back pocket - "the only acceptable STD should be seize the day!"

"Oh my god" you muttered under your breath as your face palmed making the group laugh again.

However, one by one you all began to notice Jere's shot has been downed too followed by question upon questions from everyone.

"DAMN JERE I DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE LIKE THAT-"

"So tell us!?"

"WHEN? WHERE?!"

"UH- how did I not know of this?!" You questioned amongst the others, equally as eager to find out more, even if you were all being nosy. That's what Never Have I Ever is all about anyway.

Jere cheeks reddened quicker than he could hide them as he prepared to tell you more. "Eh, it's the forest-"

"THE FOREST OF ALL PLACES--"

"What about in the sauna?"

"Meh, Sauna is not always private."

****

It was your turn again. And you couldn't stop admiring Bojan. By now, you were all tipsy. You clicked the 'randomize question' button on the phone, read the selected question in your head, and instantly smirked as you knew precisely who would perk up again at this question.

"Never have I ever...lost a bet?" Immediately, Jere's face lit up in either embarrassment or recognition (you couldn't tell) as you laughed.

If anyone knew one thing about Jere it was that he had definitely lost more than a few bets while gambling - thus earning him the nickname Käärijä.

So, he took another shot and everyone cracked up. "Yes yes, I am Käärijä, you know!"

"Are you?!" you and Bojan spoke at the same time, making you both look at each other and giggle like little kids.

Seeing this round was getting slightly boring and you weren't finding out more about Bojan, you had a trick up your sleeve.

"Never have I ever...kissed two different guys in one night?"

Oh, he must have been doing this on purpose.

"I mean this could mean guys or girls,"

Ha. Nice save. Yet it was too late, because your leg slowly raised, your heel slightly grazing his trouser leg. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it wasn't.

He locked eyes with you. Almost a glare. Almost a smirk. Almost letting it on to the others that something happened between you two.

Seemingly not getting the juicy answers they wanted, or they already knew them, they had moved on to a different question. Something about weird dreams Jan riding a turtle. Neither of you was paying attention. Why would you when your heel was grazing his leg so tenderly yet so teasingly?

His hands rolled into fists as he tried not to act on whatever thoughts he was having. You couldn't. So you smirked, pleased that you were at least embarrassing him a little like he was with the questions.

However, that question earlier about fucking in a public place was beginning to sound like a joke.

****

A hell of a lot more drinks later and all of you were most certainly drunk...

It happened to be Jere's turn at asking again. He started at the phone momentarily before speaking. "Eh, are you?!" his words slurred slightly as he started giggling. Bojan wheeze out a laugh, jolting his body against the seat as he laughed, leaning into Jere.

You were all in that drunk state where you didn't even know what you were saying and anything and everything became funny.

A waiter came over and said the bar would be closing soon, earning a bunch of boos from the group. 'Good thing restlessness was common amongst the group now.

"Time to go back to the hotel then," Kris began but Bojan interrupted.

"Guys, we're Joker Out, we love to party, hm?!" He quirked an eyebrow, shakily raising up his glass. Everyone glanced at each other momentarily, trying to see if you all agreed.

"It's crazy, it's party!" Jere excitedly approved and as if on cue everyone became equally as excited, cheering and clinking their drinks together one final time and getting up from their seats, making their way to a nearby nightclub Jan suggested.

You trotted along behind but ultimately decided not to go. "I'm sorry I'm just really tired!" You slurred your words, much to their disapproval.

"It's not like you to decline a party," Jere urged, drunkenly slinging his arm around your shoulder, knowing you wouldn't take it seriously but take it as a result of him caring about you. Bojan locked eyes with you again, for the first time since the heel teasing earlier. But you ignored him.

Instead, you opt not to have a sauna sequel. You smile and decline again, explaining that the hotel is just down the road, and saying your goodbyes.

"She's been acting weird lately..." You heard one of them say but you kept on walking to the hotel.

****

The second you plopped down onto your bed, having not even bothered to change clothes, you fell fast asleep. The alcohol in your system clearly wore you out.

An hour later, you jolt awake. You carefully lie back down, wondering what woke you up. You keep your phone on silent so it can't be that. A knock on your door catches your attention. Maybe it was that. Though, you really would have preferred not seeing anyone right now. Maybe a mass murderer is going around knocking on innocent women's doors. And maybe Bojan would save you.

Wait. Did you just say Bojan?

You decide to check your phone. Something compels you to check it. Groggily rubbing your tired eyes the phone light flashes, burning them slightly. Through your dazed vision, you see a dozen texts from none other than Bojan. Huh.

1:05 am: Käärijä is kalsarikännit rn, but not at home. what do u even call that?

1:17 am: *4 missed Facetime calls*

TISSIT

1:20 am: send nudes

1:26 am: HELP. THAT WAS JERE.

1:32 am: HE THREW UP

1:45 am: HE FAINTED LMFAO

1:58 am: hE'S SO HEAVY

But two, in particular, caught your eye...

2:35 am: WE'RE LOCKED OUT OF THE ROOM

2:40 am: SOS

Oh, great.

****

A/N: Definitions:

Tuhma = naughty

Kalsarikännit = getting drunk in your underwear at home

Tissit = tits

I heard that Glögi was his fave drink so I had to mention it :)

Please reblog if you enjoyed reading :)

girlies when Jere has his hair slicked back

X

None of the words I have to say about Jure are in the bible.

Taking care of you - Steve Murphy x Reader, Prompt - “Did you put this blanket here?” , I gave connie a wife so she’s not lonely since we’re stealing steve from her, now you may ask why didn’t just write her out and the answer is because i love her 😭 IDC IF ANYTHING IS OOC BECAUSE I JUST WANT TO HOLD HIM AND TELL HIM ITLL BE OKAY AND HES GONNA LET ME.

It was a typical group hangout, your friends, alcohol, some terrible movie you, steve and connie didn’t understand but would still laugh at. You were way too many drinks in because you all had a day off tomorrow. “Okay, we’re turning in for the night” Connie said standing and pulling Maeve up with her. “Really? You have to leave?” You said looking up at her with a pleading look. “Yes, i have a shift tomorrow, are you ready to go? or do you want one of the boys to take you home” She said picking up your hands. “I’ll stay, get home safe okay?” You said leaning up to hug her and Maeve. “We will, love you” and then she was gone.

Now with just you, javi and steve, which with javi practically passed out it was really only you and steve. “Do you want me to change this?” He said pointing to the movie you guys haven’t been watching. “I don’t know, whatever you want” You said leaning against him. “Are you tired?” He said smiling at you. “No, no, you can change it if you want” Your words slurred together. “Alright” He stood to change the movie and once he’d finally found one he turned it on and then turned back to you. Only to find you sleeping peacefully where he was just sat. He reached over to the loveseat and pulled the blanket off the back.

After laying it over you to make sure you didn’t get cold he sat there for a moment just looking at you. He bent down to make sure the blanket was properly tucked in and then he kissed your forehead and turned to walk back to his room. You woke up after hearing someone walk around in the kitchen. As you sat up a blanket pooled around your waist. Looking towards the kitchen you recognized steve standing there. He didn’t see you till he turned back around. “Oh i’m sorry, did i wake you?” He said walking towards you. “No you didn’t,” You lied not needing to add more to whatever is keeping him up. “What time is it?” You asked looking for the clock.

“It’s 3am, you should go back to sleep, or i can walk you to yours” He said sitting next to you. “Oh no, i’m fine here” You said giving him a tired smile. “Did you put this blanket on me?” You said moving closer to him. “Yeah, i didn’t want you to get cold” He said shyly. “Thank you” You said wrapping your arms around him. “It’s no problem” He said leaning into you. “Why are you up?” You said pulling away slightly. “I had a nightmare” He said quietly. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You said pulling him back into you. “I didn’t want to wake you” He mumbled into your neck. “Steve, you can always wake me up” You said burying your face in his neck.

“Do you want to go back to sleep? You can sleep in my bed, i’ll take the couch” He said pulling away. “Don’t be ridiculous steve, i’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch in your own home” You said laying back into the couch. “You’re not sleeping on the couch” Steve said pulling you up. “Well you’re not either. We can just share the bed, We’ve had to before” You smiled remembering the time you had to stay in a single at the hotel. “Are you sure?” He said following you down the hall. “Positive” You said pulling him down onto the bed with you.

Once you were both laying in the bed, you were both settled in very uncomfortable positions trying not to touch. After five minutes of not being able to sleep you gave up. “Steve?” You said turning towards him. “Yeah?” He said as he turned towards you. “Will you hold me” You asked moving toward him. He didn’t say anything just pulled you into his arms. A much more comfortable position. “Goodnight” You whispered against his chest. You assumed he was already asleep because he didn’t answer, but he was awake. He waited till you fell asleep to say it back. “Goodnight, I love you” He whispered against your head before drifting off.

Blow by Blow | 0.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Prologue | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big.

Warnings: references to domestic violence in this chapter — no graphic scenes, but mention of injury.

…

The sound of the plate hitting the wall behind your head still echoes in your ears. Buying tempered glass plates had sounded like a good idea nine months ago. Under a dollar per plate. A short term solution to furnish your first place. They had worked just fine, nothing special. But, it turns out that tempered glass shatters just like you’d expect it to.

There’s a slight limp to the way you’re walking. You don’t feel the pain, but your body still can’t function at full capacity. You know that can’t be good.

Blood spills out onto your skin as quickly as the warm, summer rain can wash it away. The cuts are small, you won’t need medical attention for them. Except for maybe the one on your foot. Walking barefoot in downtown San Diego can’t be doing you any favours there.

You breathe out, a choked whimper as you step barefoot onto a metal bottle cap. Your foot is sore and bloodied, but most importantly — bare. You hadn’t bothered to grab shoes.

Things with Jett had always been fiery. He was so passionate. You were stupid for thinking that that was a good thing.

“Hey!”

Stumbling back a few steps from the edge of the curb, your eyes go wide as you back away from the approaching car. You glance down quickly at your feet, then back up. There’s probably enough adrenaline in your system for you to start running, you’re just not sure how far.

It’s not his car. The realisation is sudden and uplifting, you stop moving and squint as it pulls up to the curb, blinded by its white headlights. The window rolls down and you’re met by a faintly familiar face.

She has dark hair and she’s frowning at you, clearly concerned. Your mind races, trying to determine if she’s safe or not. Jett will come looking and you can’t risk one of his friends —

You take another step back as you realise where you know her from. Bradshaw’s. She works there. Your mouth goes dry as you ready yourself to run again. She reaches for the radio and turns it all the way down, silencing the upbeat pop rock coming from her stereo. Her face scrunches further.

“Are you okay? — Can I call someone for you?”

Natasha stares ahead of her, her heart sinking. You’re wearing pyjama shorts and a t-shirt, both soaked through, your hair sticking to your skin. There’s an edginess to the way you’re looking at her, you’re flighty — terrified. All explained by the blood on your arms, small scratches and bloodied footprints behind you.

You slowly shake your head. Standing on the edge of a busy road, all that you can hear is your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Jett. She’s going to call Jett.

You take a few steps. Her eyes widen. Downtown isn’t the most walkable — or safe — area, and you’re about to take off.

“Hey, hey — it’s okay. I won’t call anyone. I promise.” She calls out. You see her mouth move, but it’s useless trying to understand what she says. You feel nauseous and tired and wide awake all at the same time. A few more stumbling steps back.

She grabs her door handle and slips out of the car, rounding the hood with her palms open and outstretched in front of her, moving slowly. You’re a deer in headlights, heart racing as she slowly approaches you.

The last thing she wants is to lose you down here. This can be a bad spot at night, especially in your condition.

“You’re drenched,” Natasha says softly, brows knitting together in concern. You blink, staring ahead at her. She offers her hand out slowly towards you. “Why don’t you get in the car, okay? — We can figure this out.”

You jolt the second her fingers graze your skin. She doesn’t pull back, not wanting to spook you. Instead, she brushes her thumb gently across the back of your hand and slides her palm loosely into yours.

“Please?”

Next, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of Natasha’s classic mustang, shivering. Out of the cold, it all hits you all at once. The pain in your foot, in your head, in your chest. Natasha exhales softly as you begin to sob. She has a good idea of what must have happened without needing to ask.

Turning the heat up, she turns her head towards you, her features soft.

“Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”

Natasha is one of three girls, and she has been mocked her entire life for being the least caring, the least maternal of all of them. Her sisters already have kids and husbands who they adore taking care of. Natasha’s a semi-pro female boxer — they’ve never understood her.

But, considering that you know none of that, you’re impressed at how she cares for you. A stranger. She barely even knows your name — only from hearing Jett scream it. You don’t know hers until you’re sitting on the floor in her living room as she digs through her first aid kit for you.

You wake up early the next morning, curled up into a throw pillow on her couch, wearing some clothes that she fished out of the very back of her closet. Your clothes should be dry by now after she had washed them last night.

You lie there for a while, facing her television, thinking of what comes next.

This makes you homeless, you suppose. You’re miles away from family, and you know that Jett will be periodically stopping at your friends’ homes looking for you.

Pushing yourself so that you’re sitting, you exhale softly.

Sitting in her room with a stranger on her couch and the overwhelming need to do something, Phoenix has laid awake most of the night thinking of what to do. By morning, she has decided.

“Hey, Rooster — I need a favour.”

You wipe your cheeks quickly, sniffling at the sound of her feet padding along the hallway towards her living room. Her apartment is small, but you really like it. It’s more feminine than you would have expected for her.

A plush white couch, with a red wine stain hidden under a throw pillow. Courtesy of Javy, who you’ll meet soon enough. Pictures of her, and her friends and family all around. A knitted cat plushy on the corner of the couch. A gift from Bob’s mom.

A white and green theme, with splashes of other colour, passes through the apartment. It’s tidy and meticulously organised. She seems to be kind of a perfectionist. She rounds the corner and slows, reminding herself not to spook you, even though she’s excited by her genius idea.

“Morning, how are you feeling?” She asks softly, stopping in the archway. You offer her a sheepish smile and blink hard, trying to make the tears stop.

“Um, embarrassed.” You breathe out, voice still trembling. Normally you aren’t the kind of person who would be out in the street at two in the morning, barefoot and wild.

Every other emotion remains under the surface. Aching, heartbroken, wounded in more ways than one. Embarrassed is all that you say.

Natasha nods understandingly, pushing her fingers through her hair as she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, crossing her legs under her. “I know you don’t, like, really know me — but, um… I’m not going to be able to sleep if I let you go back to Jett’s place.”

Not after seeing what she saw last night.

“So, I, uh… I talked to Rooster, at the gym, and there’s an apartment above it that… you could stay in for a while. If you wanted.”

Still cut and bruised from last night, your body finally hurts. You’re left with the reality of what happened, and the only option in sight is to lean on a stranger. This isn’t how you pictured things.

You raise your eyebrows, “That’s so kind, but… I can’t. If Jett saw me, or-“

“He’s not welcome in that place. The guys all know it. He won’t be able to come within twenty feet of it without someone sending him packing.”

You don’t have many options. Still, this one sounds risky. She watches as your features scrunch up with uncertainty. Natasha smiles softly and rests her hand against your knee.

“How about you come see it with me? — Just take a look.” She suggests. Staring into her warm brown eyes, you already know that this kind of kindness is a debt you can never repay, and that she is a friend you would be lucky to have.

Again, you’re blinking back tears as you slowly nod your head at her. This time, not because of Jett.

Bradley whistles as he strolls through the door to the gym, an hour late for his shift but not hungover this time. Phoenix is sitting on the counter top by the front desk, talking away with Mickey.

“Children.” Bradley greets calmly, swinging his gym bag off of his shoulder and dropping it behind the desk. He leans his forearms on the counter, in no rush to start working.

“D-Bag.” Fanboy greets playfully, making Natasha laugh.

“Your Mommy still not letting you say real swear words yet, Mick?” Rooster teases, raising his eyebrows. Phoenix laughs again. As much as she could train in places with better reputations, she would miss her boys too much if she left this place.

But she’ll never admit that, their egos are big enough already.

Mickey grins, then flips off Rooster. Rooster winks at him, then turns his attention to Natasha.

“And you — what did I tell you about bringing home strays?” He jokes, referring to the damaged girl sitting alone upstairs in a dusty apartment. Phoenix softens immediately and shakes her head.

“Seriously, you should’ve seen her last night…” She says quietly, shaking her head. Rooster’s brows furrow slightly. “I couldn’t leave her.”

Bradley nods his head. “She’s moving in, then?”

“I’m not sure, she—“ Natasha stops speaking as the door behind the desk opens. Her and Mickey turn quickly. Bradley’s already facing you. You’re wearing clothes that might have been Natasha’s ex-boyfriends, cheeks blotchy from crying, legs covered in scrapes and shoes that are a size too big. You swallow softly.

“Hi…” You whisper. Mickey’s the first to offer you a shy smile. The other two nod in acknowledgement. “Um, Nat, I don’t know if—“

“Take it. Please.” Natasha rushes out. She gets really cranky when she can’t sleep, she’s got a fight coming up and she just really can’t take her nerves being shot like this right now.

You look towards Rooster, unsure. He simply shrugs, not really knowing what you’d like him to say. He’s already in trouble for losing Jett as a client, Mav is going to freak out about them banning him permanently.

“I’ll pay rent.” You decide.

Rooster shrugs his broad shoulders again, “Don’t have to — no one’s been up there since the eighties. It’s a dump.” Mickey turns his head and frowns at his boss. Rooster would make an awful realtor.

“No, I-I’ll pay. And I can help out here, I just — I need to thank you for being so kind to me.” You look at Natasha, sincere. It’s almost a sweet moment. Until Bradley laughs. Every head turns to look at him. Phoenix scowls at him disapprovingly.

He pats the counter and shakes his head, still laughing. “Sorry. Just the thought of you tryin’ to train someone. Don’t worry about that, we’ll take care of things down here.” He doesn’t mean to sound like a douchebag, and somehow he still manages. Mickey wants to kick him.

You swallow, embarrassment burning through you as you nod slowly.

“I’ll get you the keys.” Phoenix decides finally, drawing the attention away from how clueless Bradley has become over the past year. “Come on.”

She didn’t give him the full details, so he doesn’t know what you’ve been through. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t have just laughed in your face and fatally wounded your already crushed confidence. Even then, he might have — Nat isn’t sure.

Rooster hasn’t been in a good place for a while now. For a while, he seemed to be getting better. It fluctuates — this week, he’s an asshole again.

Your new apartment has two entrances. One, the door behind the front desk. This leads you directly into the gym. Your second, is the back door by the kitchen, a set of steel steps that lead down to the back of the building. Behind that is a locked gate that leads out towards the marina. You now have keys for both of those, but not the gym. That seems fair.

It’s mostly exposed brick up there, like the rest of the gym. A few wallpapered walls. Outdated, but you’re not in the space to be picky. Furnished, but also cluttered with the staff’s belongings.

You sit alone on the floor of the place for a while.

The door opens behind you, making you flinch and hurry to your feet. A short, older man with brown hair stands in the doorway with a frown on his face. Maverick. Natasha told you about him.

“Hello.” He says softly, uncertainty in his tone. You echo back a quiet greeting. “You live here now?”

Apparently it’s that simple. You give a small nod.

“Look, you don’t have to pay rent but—“

“I want to.” You interrupt. “Please. I can’t stay here for free.”

Maverick folds his arms over his chest. “Nat said that you’re good with computers.” You squint slightly. You’ve had an office job before, if that means you’re good with computers. Still, you nod.

“Call it a hundred a week if you’ll help me put this place on the line.”

“Online?” You ask gently. Maverick shrugs. It’s all the same to him. Still, four hundred a month — he’s insane. You nod quickly. “Of course. Sure.”

He smiles.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry for busting in, do you mind if I grab my jacket?”

You step quickly out of his way and let him in. So, this is happening.

…