#alpha bradley bradshaw

[itshoneywhatever]

In Need of Some Life-Affirming Touches

On the Carrier (ch 1/2)

Him and Javy are getting ready for bed when they hear a knock on their door. Javy looks at him, a questioning look on his face, before he goes to open the door.

“Rooster?”

“Hey, um, is Jake still up?”

Jake should have guessed that Bradley would come looking for him the night before their mission. Even on a carrier with every single member of their squad wouldn’t stop him.

Javy turns around to look at the omega and when Jake nods minutely, Javy makes way for the older alpha to enter their carrier’s quarters.

“I’m gonna go make myself busy somewhere else,” He shoots Jake a look . “I’ll be back in…a few hours.” And with that is gone.

Jake huffs out a laugh, amused by the lack of subtlety of his friend.

“What is it?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bradley answers with honesty. “Too much energy, or anxiety maybe.”

They had flown in earlier in the day to the carrier, and a few hours ago they had found out who would be flying the mission. Rooster is Dagger 2, Jake is the Spare one.

“Why are you here, Roo?”

ao3

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I’d like to say I’ve never done one of these but I’d just be lying to myself at that point and that’s not good for anyone 😂

Part of Bradley wants to crow in delight, tell the entire room that that’s his omega that just showed them all up on the course. Rub the fact that there was someone better than him in every single way.

But he can’t. Because Mav isn’t his omega. His alpha definitely doesn’t agree with that but Mav had made it abundantly clear when he pulled his papers that Bradley wasn’t good enough for him. Would never be good enough for him.

[blue-aconite]

between the wolves || prologue

Summary: Cassandra finds herself running from a life that seems planned out for her, the expectations of coming from a certain family and someone she maybe never choose for herself. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC x Bradley Bradshaw

Authors Note: Welcome back to a new, rewritten and improved prologue of this series! It's been on hiatus for a long time but we're back!

Thank you to my beta @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over for me and for letting me rant on and on about this! You're the best! Thank you to @hederasgarden for making me come back to this and for encouraging me! And a special shoutout to @anniesocsandgeneralstore for being the original inspiration for this fic!

Her mother had insisted on the party, citing that they simply had to celebrate this milestone in her life. ‘It’s important, dear’, she had said as if her mother hadn’t been the one to turn her nose up when Cassandra declared her intentions to study physical therapy instead of just lounging around at home, as her mother did.

In Mary’s mind, a girl like her needed no education. Her value was only equal to her appearance and she would be provided for, first by her father and then her future husband. But it had never been what Cassie wanted. 

Now however, her mother saw the opportunity to throw one of her extravagant parties, showing her and her family off. It was more about appearances than celebrating the end of her studies. She barely knew half of the people attending and Cassandra doubted they knew they were here for her either. 

They knew of her, of course. As the eldest child of a prominent family, growing up in New York’s high society, Cassandra knew her role well. She was the face of the family, the future. She was expected to follow in her mothers footsteps, marry someone suitable and spend the rest of her life among various charities and galas. She hated it. 

She watched as Sebastian and Timothy got dragged into another conversation with their fathers business partner, both of them nodding along. They both looked so grown up in their suits, tall and proud. 

“You look like someone ran over the family dog. This is your party, smile.” Sam handed her a fresh glass of champagne before taking a seat next to her. 

Cassie rolled her eyes. “You mean it’s my mother’s party. You know I just wanted a nice family dinner.”

Her boyfriend shrugged his shoulders. “I know but you have to admit, this is nice.” He gestured towards the garden filled with people.

Cassandra turned to get a good look at him. 

He was wearing an Armani suit, his family emblem embroidered into the pocket napkin and the Rolex watch she had gifted him for his twenty-fifth birthday was proudly on display. As he got older, the more he started to resemble his father but he still retained some of his boyish features. It was a good mix. He was handsome and he was hers.  

She and Sam had grown up together. He was the boy next door, their families had been friends for decades, their great great grandfathers even owning a business together. 

Cassandra knew she was supposed to be with Samuel before she even knew what it really meant. It was all their mothers had talked about while growing up, how they someday would make the perfect couple, joining their families together. 

They had talked about hers and Sam’s future before it had even begun, making suggestive comments over the years. And when Sam asked her to be his girlfriend in eighth grade, she had said yes.

Sam was, in many ways, her first everything. He was her best friend, her first love, her rock, her confidant. He knew her better than she knew herself. 

But their entire lives had been planned out for them. And now she wasn’t sure it was what she wanted. 

“If this is your idea of nice, I think you’re more like my mother than me.”  

Sam laughed. “One of us should be. You should be happy Mary is doing this for you.”

“She’s doing this for herself and you know it. It’s never about anyone else. Did you know that half of the people I’ve greeted today weren't even aware this is supposed to be a graduation party?” Cassandra mumbled, putting aside her now empty champagne flute. 

Sam intertwined their fingers, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this isn’t what you wanted. But I think there’s still time to turn things around.”

“How?”

He smiled, kissing her knuckles. “You’ll see.”

Cassandra tried to ignore the growing pit in her stomach, smiling widely as to hide the panic taking over her features. 

“Sounds great.” She managed to squeeze out, letting go of Sam’s hand. “I need to speak to Dad, will you get me another drink?”

The moment he turned around, Cassie fled the garden. She pushed her way past people into the house, scanning the crowd for her parents.

Neither were anywhere to be found and with some many people around, no one noticed her slipping away. 

Cassandra didn’t stop until she reached an empty room, locking the doors behind her, sliding onto the floor. Her mother would scold her for ruffling the custom-made Prada but she couldn’t care less.

She knew what Sam meant when he told her things would turn around and it terrified her. 

All Cassie could think about was the ring she had found in the wardrobe a couple of weeks ago. She hadn’t meant to look but the familiar jewellery caught her eye.

There it had been, a stunning diamond ring she knew all too well. She had seen the ring before, on his grandmother’s hand. It was a family heirloom, meant for one thing. Marriage. 

Sam proposing wasn’t a surprise though. It would happen sooner rather than later.

But the thought itself twisted her stomach further and she gasped for air, fighting back the tears. 

There had been a point in her life where she wanted nothing else. That a future with Sam was the only option. He had been all she ever wanted. 

But now, thinking about spending the rest of her life with him made her stomach turn. She could see it all so clearly, the life that they were supposed to have. It was there, all within her grasp, all planned out for them. And Cassandra didn’t want it. 

She had loved Sam for so long that she wasn’t sure who she’d be without him. She still loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him anymore and she hadn’t been for a while now. 

It was easier to admit to herself now than it had been when Cassie first started to realise that she was falling out of love with him. Only then had she realised how much of their lives had already been planned, how much of their relationship was built on their parent’s expectations.

The ring only solidified what Cassandra had known for months. This wasn’t what she wanted.

“Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 75B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those in first class and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately fifteen minutes. Thank you.”

Shouldering her bag, Cassie let an elderly couple pass by her before taking her place in the queue. There was no rush. 

She might have been at one of the busiest airports in New York, but Cassie felt strangely calm. More than she had in months. It only served to prove that leaving was the right thing to do. Her only regret was leaving without telling her dad or brothers but she couldn’t risk them slipping up and telling her mother or Sam. 

Her phone vibrated with an incoming call again and she let it go to voicemail. There were several missed calls, unread messages and voicemails. Her father’s contact stared back at her, the most recent missed call along with a text message.

Just tell me you’re safe.

The queue had yet to move so she pulled up their chat, where there was another 4 unread messages waiting for her. 

Cassandra, where are you?

Call me back. Arthur said he dropped you off at LGA. What’s going on?

Your mother is very upset. Please call us back.

Sweetheart, I just need to know that you’re okay.

Cassandra couldn’t call him back, not now. But he deserved to know she was okay. 

I’m ok. I’ll let you know when I land. Please don’t tell mother. I love you.

She put the phone on aeroplane mode after that, effectively blocking any more incoming messages or calls. The queue was moving now and she handed the flight attendant her passport and ticket, thanking them before following the stream of people. 

Finding her seat, she declined the drink offered by the stewardess with a polite smile. Maybe later. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep. 

Boarding seemed to be over pretty quickly and when the rumble of the engines grew louder as they made it to the taxiway, Cassie leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. 

She could worry about everything later. 

Ted Stevens Airport was just as busy as LaGuardia when Cassie departed her plane. She trudged along with the rest of the passengers towards baggage claim. 

The conveyor belt was already moving when she got there and luckily enough, her bag was already on the belt. She made for the exit after collecting her belongings, looking for a taxi.

Pulling out her phone, she turned off the aeroplane mode and once again her screen was filled with more calls and messages. She ignored them all, pulling up the hotel information. She was grateful for airplane wi-fi, allowing her to book a hotel during the long flight. 

Hailing down a cab, she gave them the name of the hotel and fifteen minutes later the bellhop was carrying her bags into the lobby while she checked into the room she booked. 

Thanking the bellhop, she locked the door behind her and fought the urge to just collapse onto the bed and sleep. Cassie forced herself to take a shower, washing off the entire flight of her body and brushing her teeth before crawling under the covers. 

She plugged in her charger and set an alarm, not wanting to sleep away the next day. Remembering her promise to her dad, Cassie pulled up his contact information, hovering over the call button. She wanted to hear his voice but she didn’t want to alert her mother to her whereabouts either.

Flight went ok, and I made it to the hotel safely. I’m in Anchorage. Please don’t tell mother where I am, or Sam. 

I’m so sorry I left without saying anything to you. I just didn’t want you to stop me. I don’t know how to explain but I need some space to think about what I really want. I knew Sam was planning to propose at the party and I realised it’s not what I want, not anymore. I don’t even know if it's what I’ve ever wanted or what mother has expected of me.

Please, don’t ask me to come home. I need to do this for myself. I’m not asking you to understand, I’m just asking you to let me make my own decisions. Tell Sebastian and Timothy that I’ll miss them. I love you.

She typed out the long message, hitting send before placing the phone screen down to give her some resemblance of peace as she waited for her father to answer. Even with the five-hour time difference, she was sure he would.

In the comfort of a warm bed and surrounded by nothing but darkness, Cassandra let herself feel for the first time since she left. All the emotions she shoved aside earlier to make it easier to leave bubbled up to the surface and Cassie choked back a sob threatening to leave her lips.

It was a strange moment because she felt nothing but relief over her decisions. But she was also scared. She had never been on her own, not like this.

A quiet chime from her phone alerted her to a new message and she breatheed a sigh of relief when it’s from her father and not someone else.

I wish you would have told me, I would not have stopped you. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t come to me with this. But I am proud of you for making this decision. Whatever you want, I’ll support you. 

I won’t tell Mary or Sam but I urge you to at least let them know you’re okay. I’ll tell them I’ve spoken with you, as they are worried. 

I won’t ask you to come home but please keep me updated. Your account is there for whatever you need, I’ll make sure that Mary won’t interfere with it. If you need anything, let me know. 

Sweetheart, I love you. Stay safe. 

Cassie let the tears flow as she reads her dad’s message. She didn’t realise how much she needed his assurance and acceptance. If her dad supported her, she could do this. She could be strong, if he believed in her. 

Deciding to keep all decisions until tomorrow, Cassandra put the phone on ‘do not disturb’ before making herself comfortable in the king-sized bed. 

Right now, she felt better than she had in months. That was all that mattered. The rest could wait.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @sio-ina-bottle @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch​ @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void@bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

@dizzybee03 @buckysteveloki-me @aczhang777 @lynnevanss @krismdavis @keyrani let me know if you want to be added/removed

[junkdrawerfics]

Promise Kept (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

This is an abo fic so if you don’t like don’t read! (no spice)

Summary: Reader is an omega aviator who has fought tooth and nail to be where she is. She never gave alphas the time of day, until Bradley Bradshaw walked into her life. Even then, she can’t bring herself to let him all the way in, until one night, after a fight with Hangman leaves her with too many doubts to ignore.

Warnings: none really, it gets a little saucy, but doesn’t go past some intense-ish making out. Some internalized prejudice.

word count: 6036 (ended up being kind of a slow burn)

Society had come a long way with how omegas were treated. No longer considered second class citizens, or fragile glass creatures in need of protection, they were treated just like everyone else practically everywhere. Practically.

As always, nothing is perfect. Some people still hold to their prejudice, much like how some women still face sexism, regardless of their secondary gender. For some reason, you just weren’t expecting to come face to face with it in the Navy. Perhaps you should have.

Being an omega, and a woman, meant you had to fight tooth and nail for every sliver of perception you could. In the academy, that meant studying every night and giving up all aspects of a social life to be at the top of the class. It meant long nights spent at the gym after studying, beating your body into a muscular shape, which was no simple task. No one ever told you how difficult it would be to keep your physique as an omega, something about your body being adapted to be softer, rounder, more protective. The odds never phased you, though. You wouldn’t have joined the Navy if they did.

And it worked. You bested everyone academically, and stood your ground in training against the alphas and betas. You weren’t the first omega to pass through the academy, but they all acted like you were, which only stoked the fire in you more, a fire that had been in you since you were young. Always push back. Don’t step down for anyone. Prove that you deserve to be there. Prove them wrong.

When you joined the Navy as an aviator, you started on your suppressants and never let up on your training. Even at that point, when everyone said you’d made it, when your parents urged you to take it slow, go out, meet people (‘an alpha’ was barely hidden in their tone), you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You were going to prove to the world if you had to that omegas deserved to be treated with just as much respect as alphas, and you’d fight anyone if they thought otherwise.

Hence how you end up almost killing a certain frenemy of yours. Several times.

“Hangman, if you don’t shut your trap, I’m going to shave your head in your sleep,” you snap, teeth grinding as you glare up at the taller aviator.

“Ooooh, the omega has claws.” He gives you that annoying smirk, the one that makes you want to smack him over the head with a pool stick.

That would break it though. You don’t want to put Penny out like that, so you stick to a scathing growl. Placing the stick down on the table, you notice your other friends take wary steps back as you come to stand toe to toe with the prick of a blond. Good. You wouldn’t want anyone else getting into this right now.

“Do you want to go, Bagman? See just how sharp these claws are?”

He scoffs, “We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we, Widow?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyes narrow.

“Look, darlin’-” The word makes your brow twitch. “-it’s just a simple fact that alphas are stronger than omegas. I’m just saying you’re no exception.”

“I could put you on the ground in less than a minute,” you growl, anger digging into your chest like a hot iron.

“Oh please, if you weren’t on suppressants, we’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

A low murmur spreads through your group, even amongst the standers-by who overhear your argument. Your jaw clicks with how hard you clench your teeth together, a dull pain thrumming up to your temple. Slowly, you tilt your chin up and square your shoulders, every aspect of your posture screaming of a dominance you shouldn’t possess, a dominance you’ve taken by force. Hangman’s gaze turns wary at the challenge.

“Oh, he’s done it now,” Phoenix murmurs, eyes dancing with barely contained amusement.

“I wouldn’t want you even if you were the last alpha on the planet,” you murmur, voice like a storm brewing out over the ocean, “You should just admit that you can’t beat me in a fight instead of resorting to being such a douchebag. It would look better.”

“You know what I think? I think it’d look better if yo-”

“Watch your mouth, Hangman.”

You bite down on a flare of frustration when a solid body steps between the two of you. Your eyes travel up, trailing over muscular arms, across broad shoulders, up to a mop of dark curls crowned by a pair of aviators and you stiffen.

Rooster.

You reluctantly take a step back, watching the two alphas glare at each other. The look in Rooster’s eyes sends your pulse racing. They burn with something fiercely protective, something utterly dark that curls low in your abdomen. Usually you’d butt back in, because you don’t need rescuing. You don’t need an alpha to protect you, nor do you want one.

But it’s always been different with Rooster, as much as you don’t want to admit it. When he comes to your defense, a deep neglected feeling crawls up your throat and practically chokes you. You’ve tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore how nice he smells, all leather and mahogany and clean linen. How his touch feels like warmth and ice and electricity all at once. Or how he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars when you win in combat, smile dripping with pride and something you don’t dare put a finger on. You can’t. You can’t, because if you do, you’re terrified that feeling will drown you, and you’ll turn into exactly the thing you don’t want to be.

So you settle for stepping back to watch, desperately clinging to the anger still simmering in your veins. Desperate to ignore the prominent veins tracing the alpha’s taut arms and the attractive edge of his clenched jaw.

He’s just an alpha. An alpha like any other. Even if he treats you like an equal. Even if he’s never been anything except respectful to you.

“What, Bradshaw? As if you don’t think the same thing?” A taunting smile returns to Hangman’s lips. “I’m just playing the part, but we all see the way you look at our favorite omega.”

Those words make you stiffen. Eyes wide, you glance up at Rooster, whose ears are tinging pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, a warning in his tone.

“Oh really?” The blond presses, far too entertained by the reactions he’s garnering. His eyes slide to you again, and for once, you feel unsettled by the mischief you find there. “Have you noticed, (L/n)? Because I sure don’t feel like I’m imagining it.”

You don’t know how to respond. It’s like the words have tangled on your lips, like they’re anchored there, too heavy to spit out, too terrifying to face. And you hate just how weak that makes you feel.

“Just drop it, Hangman,” Rooster growls. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Fine.” Jake raises his hands, that idiotic smirk still curling his lips as he takes a mock step back. “You really need to lighten up, Bradshaw. Wouldn’t want someone getting the wrong idea, since you don’t want her apparently.”

That statement settles in your gut like a rock, especially when Bradley just clenches his jaw again and doesn’t say a word.

Leave it to Hangman to stir the pot, or to set the heat until things boil over in this case. You want to throttle him, maybe deprive him of the ability to have kids, but you are far too aware of all the eyes on you, both your friends and the various strangers populating the bar. It makes you want to disappear, or yell, but neither are really an option right now.

Running away means you’re a coward, a weak little omega who can’t stand up to some bullying.

Yelling would just make you look crazy.

So once again you’re forced to settle. You drop into the seat next to Phoenix, watching Rooster take a deep, slow breath before he storms off to the bar, for a drink you presume. It seems most evenings with Hangman require some form of alcohol to make it through. Too bad you were a designated tonight, or you’d be joining him.

“You okay?” Bob, sweet beta he is, gives you the softest concerned look from across the table.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Nights like these make me deeply question why I’m friends with that knot-head though.”

“Who else would you argue with if he weren’t around?” Phoenix laughs into her drink.

You don’t say anything in reply. Part of you wants to say that you don’t love arguing. It frustrates you more than anything, how the blond knows how to get such strong reactions from you. And it’s even worse that he always seems to do it around Rooster, which leads to moments like this, where you can’t control the ache in your heart that clashes with the fire in your veins, leaving you to burn in your own uncertainty.

The rest of the night goes on peacefully, which is likely due to the uptake of alcohol. Despite telling yourself it’s a bad idea, you can’t help but keep an eye on Rooster. The man appears to sulk a few tables over, not paying much attention to the conversation Fanboy and Pay Back keep trying to draw him into. Worry burrows deep into your chest when he switches from nursing a beer to a glass of whiskey, dark eyes lost in thought.

You wish you knew what he was thinking. You wish you could walk right over there and ask him. Pretend the evening never happened. But that uncertainty clings to you like a tick, small and irritating and impossible to tear out.

He’s an alpha.

But he’s also your best friend.

Everythings has always been different with Rooster. At first, you’d hated him. He was just another opponent, another obstacle you had to overcome to be the best. You used to bicker, much like Hangman, but he never once brought up your secondary gender. He respected you, despite all your back and forth. He treated you like an equal, something you had only experienced with Phoenix.

Then, one day, you crashed. It was an accident, an error with the plane. Apparently something was missed in the inspection before you went up. You ended up in the hospital for a few days, and when you woke up, there he was. Sitting at your bedside, somehow asleep while looking horribly uncomfortable in one of those stiff hospital chairs.

Things shifted after that.

That day you saw a new side to the aviator. He was softer, charismatic smirk replaced with the most genuine smile when he realized you were awake. It gave you pause back then. Made you doubt everything you thought about alphas. From then on, you spent most of your time together, and your arguments turned to playful banter, which turned into late night talks, which turned into phone calls when your deployment took you to different places.

It all went so fast, leaving you grasping at straws when you first noticed how your heart skips a beat when he gives you one of those soft, lopsided smiles.

But he’s an alpha.

And you still can’t face the idea of being a typical, lovestruck omega, not after an entire lifetime and trying to be anything but. What would everyone think of you? What if you fell behind? The doubt is crippling, to say the least.

So you stay at your table, nursing your own cup of lemonade, distractedly adding to a conversation with Phoenix and Bob while watching the alpha down drink after drink. Eventually he starts smiling again, laughing just a little too loud like he usually does when he’s drank too much.

“Wanna play a round, Widow?” You glance over at Hangman, who holds out a pool stick to you. A peace offering perhaps. Some of the tension leaks from your shoulders.

“No thanks, Bagman, not really in the mood to play,” you hum, though you give him the faintest smile to make sure he knows the two of you are good. He nods, too white smile on his lips as he tosses the stick to Coyote instead.

When you look back to Rooster, you freeze. He’s looking at you, for the first time since the stand-off. His eyes, such a peculiar shade of hazel and brown, are glazed over, but they burn with an intensity that makes your breath get lost somewhere in your lungs. Smile gone, it’s replaced with a look you are far too familiar with. It’s the look he gets whenever he’s trying to figure something out, how to attack, how to win, how to succeed at a certain maneuver. But it’s solely focused on you.

You meet his eyes, one brow raising in challenge. Not a single sign of submission. A soft glint sparks in his gaze, something dark and fond, as a smile pulls at the corner of his lips. You don’t back down, even as his eyes trail down, lingering for a heated second on your lips, before trailing over the exposed length of your neck and collarbone. Subconsciously, your shoulders draw up, and your eyes narrow into a glare. Rooster leans back in his seat, eyes sparkling as they trail back to meet yours. Too dark. Too warm. Too hungry.

You break away, heart suddenly in your throat. And you’re shaking. You tuck your fingers between your thighs, desperate to hide the slight tremor. You can still feel his gaze, feel it warming your skin to the point of setting a fire. For the first time in what feels like forever, a blush spreads up your neck and across your cheeks. A low chuckle sounds from a few tables down.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you grumble under your breath.

“Who?” Phoenix asks, though the smirk on her face gives away that she knows.

“Rooster,” You tell her anyway.

“Oh please, you love him. He could wreck your car and you’d still ruffle his hair like you do and forgive him,” she laughs, and Bob nods along. “He loves that by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The two of you are very oblivious,” Bob adds, which is like a punch in the gut coming from the beta.

“What do you mean?” You look between your two friends, frustration building when they merely share a look and laugh.

“Nothing, Widow. Just might be some time for a heart to heart with ‘Roo’.” She puts the nickname in air quotes, because it’s what you notoriously call him. No one else can get away with it, lest Bradshaw bite their heads off. He lets you though, and they’ve all seen the fond smile it brings to his lips. It’s so painfully obvious, to everyone except you and him apparently.

You’re about to bite back, maybe something about her and Hangman, but the sound of a sharp shuffle draws your attention away. Rooster is jostling out of his seat, slurring something about another round, but he can barely keep himself upright. With a sigh, you slip from your booth, heading towards the idiot.

“Case in point!”

You send Phoenix a glare over your shoulder, but it turns to something fond when she gives you a cheesy thumbs up, eyebrow wiggling. They’re all idiots, you decide.

You make it to Rooster’s side just in time, as he practically trips over his own feet.

“Woah, buddy,” you laugh, catching him around the middle. You can feel the heat of his body, even through his Hawaiian shirt. Rooster has always run so warm. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

A cacophony of protests sound from the rest of the table, but Bradley just looks down at you with a doe-eyed smile. You stomp down the fondness curling in your stomach, and instead draw his arm over your shoulder and curl an arm tight around his waist.

“I’m taking this dufus home. Try not to die while I’m gone!” You call, receiving a mixture of laughter and catcalls (Hangman of course), which you ignore.

Now, moving a 6’2” alpha is no easy task. Not when it’s Rooster, who can barely keep a foot under him when he’s tipsy and is only coordinated when he plays the piano. Usually, on nights like this, the main struggle is getting him to stop laughing long enough to get his feet to move, but tonight, he’s suspiciously quiet as you lead him out to your car. You can still feel his eyes on you, but this time you’re too scared to meet them. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking now. You don’t want to think about the fact that you’re alone with him now. An alpha. A drunk alpha at that. Even if he is your best friend.

The cold, night air helps to ease the warmth dancing under your skin. It seems to help Rooster sober up just a little too, as he fumbles his way into your passenger seat. You reach across him, intent on buckling the idiot up, but freeze when his fingers curl around your wrist.

Slowly, so slowly, you lean back to look at him, ready to bite, knock him out if you need to, but Bradley just smiles. It’s one of those soft, genuine ones, brimming in his eyes, boyishly lopsided. And you melt. You buckle him up and take a moment to ruffle a hand through his soft curls, drawing a content hum from the dirty blond. He just keeps looking at you, all smiley, eyes half-lidded.

“What am I gonna do with you, Roo?” You sigh.

“Kiss me?”

A shocked laugh parts your lips at the earnest suggestion. This finally gets Rooster to frown, though it looks more like a pout, which makes you giggle more. Leave it to Bradley to always be unexpected.

“Maybe when you’re sober, Roo,” you tease, and this seems to bring back his grin.

“‘m holdin’ you to that.”

You snort, knowing he probably won’t even remember this conversation in the morning, though a small part of you hopes he will. A small part you chastise as you close his door and move to the driver’s seat.

The drive is surprisingly quiet, until the sound of Rooster’s soft snores fill the car. A fond smile captures your lips. Looks like you had the perfect timing. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer at the bar. When you reach his apartment, you take a moment to just look at Rooster. His brow, usually knotted together for some reason or another, is smooth in his sleep, making him look younger, softer. His hair is a little mussed from when you ruffled it, a few strands falling over his forehead, tempting you to brush them back.

He really is handsome, you think. You don’t often let yourself entertain it, but Bradley really is something. Tall, muscular, with a defined jaw and a confidence to match. He’s an ideal alpha. Yet, that’s not what you find yourself drawn to. No, it’s those moments in the air when he calls on you to make the decision. It’s all the times he invites you over for a drink and just listens. It’s everything else about him that drives you crazy. He’s the perfect alpha.

You wonder if he’d ever pick you, as his omega.

And then, immediately, you shove that thought down and jump out of the car. Bradley jumps awake when you slam the door, eyes blearily tracking you as you make it to him and unbuckle him.

“Come on, big man, time to get you to bed,” you huff as you drag him up.

“You’re so strong,” Rooster mumbles, the look on his face just short of adoration.

Your face flushes, “Strong enough to drag you around. Better keep that in mind the next time you try to pick a fight with me.”

A moment of silence.

And then - “’m not Bagman.”

You stop, casting the alpha a curious glance. You hadn’t been insinuating that, but suddenly he looks too serious, brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line.

“I know you’re not, Roo,” you murmur gently.

“I don’t like how he talks to you.” He frowns, now facing you completely.

“Yah? How so?” You slowly redirect him to the door.

“Don’t like how ‘e treats you like some ‘mega. You’re an omega, but he, he-” He practically growls, and your shoulders tense. “He’s no manners. I should knock some ‘nto him.”

You loosen when you realize the root of his anger. He doesn’t like that Hangman blatantly disrespects you as an omega. You were expecting it to be some protective alpha thing, since the two of you are so close, and it is to some degree you’re sure, but it lifts a little of your unease knowing that this is partially his chivalry thing. He once told you it’s how his mother raised him, since she was an omega and his father had passed away. His only other real influence was Maverick, who happens to be a beta.

“Well, I bet if we messed his face up a bit, he wouldn’t be so rude,” you hum, laughing softly when Bradley nods aggressively.

You prop the alpha against the wall and fish his keys from his pocket, shuffling nervously when he goes quiet, heavy gaze falling down on you again. If only he weren’t a good head taller than you, then maybe it would be easier to face that look.

Instead, you swiftly step into his small apartment, busying yourself with grabbing a cup of water for him and a couple aspirin for when he wakes up the next morning. He watches from the doorway, only moving in when you tell him to go change.

And boy do you regret that when you slip into his room. You were intending to just check on him one last time, make sure he didn’t slip and die whilst changing, but you instead come face to face with a notably shirtless Rooster.

“Ah, I was just um, I just-” You gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Rooster shirtless, but this is different. This isn’t on the beach, when he’s covered in sweat and dancing to a victory play in dog fight football. No, this is in the dim light of his room, the soft glow from the kitchen just illuminating the prominent muscles of his abdomen, the smooth planes of his chest, the line of his collarbone, every inch of him tan and glowing and perfect.

When you finally do bring yourself to look away, to look at his face, you’re met with the most wolfish grin.

“Like what you see, Widow?”

Heat flushes through your chest, your breath catching in your throat. A small voice in you screams danger danger danger, but you can’t move as Rooster inches closer. His hands hover over your sides, close enough that you can feel his warmth, but not touching.

And part of you begs him to. Wants him to touch you, grab you, hold you, do whatever he wants. It collides viciously with the relief that swarms you when his hands settle gently on your arms. But then he’s leaning over you, face coming so so close to yours and you can’t breathe again. Your thoughts are swimming, lost to the whirlwind of the homey scent that envelops you.

“I wanna tell you something,” Rooster mumbles, warm breath brushing your face, the faint scent of whiskey not as gross as it should be.

“What is it, Bradley?” Your voice doesn’t quiver. It doesn’t.

He looks at you, and for a moment, it’s like he’s completely sober. His eyes are clear and bright, swimming with more emotion than you thought someone could hold. It feels like your heart is pushing through your chest.

“He’s wrong.”

“Who’s wrong?”

He hesitates only a second before the words spill from his lips, “Hangman. He said I don’t want you. He’s wrong.”

The air fizzles between the two of you as you process what he’s saying.

Bradley wants you. Is that what he means? He wants you? In what way? You’re suddenly overflowing with questions, each one dancing on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to ask them. Not now. Not when he’s like this and you can’t even seem to get your head straight. You don’t even know what you want, for Mavericks sake. (haha funny)

“I think you should get some sleep, Roo,” you all but whisper, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“It’s okay-” He draws you close just to press the softest kiss to your temple. It’s so innocent and sweet, you almost melt. “-know you don’t like alphas. Jus’ had to tell ya.”

And your heart breaks. His voice softens with something horribly sad and resigned, like he’s thought about this before, like he’s told it to himself over and over again. Because of you. Because of your stubborn prejudice. You’re no better than all the people you’ve been judging.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you croak, not meeting his eyes as you pull the man deeper into his bedroom.

He flops onto the mattress unceremoniously, immediately grabbing one of your hands when you turn to leave.

“Stay?”

You bite your lip, torn between running, escaping all this mess in your heart that he’s not even aware of, or doing exactly what he asks, because that’s all you want.

All you’ve ever wanted.

“Yah,” you rasp and settle down on the edge of his bed, “I’ll stay Roo, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

“An’ you’ll give me that kiss?” He peaks up at you with one eye, already fighting sleep.

You smile and gently brush your free hand through his curls, “Guess you’ll just have to get some sleep and see.”

Rooster eagerly closes his eyes and buries into his blankets, though that big, dopey grin stays on his lips even as he quickly drifts off. You linger, fingers still petting his hair, until you’re sure he’s asleep. Then, slowly, to not wake him up, you untangle your hand from his and make your way to the door.

Right before you close it, you hear a low, muffled, “Night, (Y/n).”

“Good night, Bradley,” you murmur back and silently shut the door.

You slump against the wood, a long whoosh of air escaping your lips.

How on earth are you supposed to process all of that?

It feels like everything is clicking together and falling apart, all at once.

Rooster wants you. You can still feel the warmth where his lips pressed against your skin. And you can’t really deny how you feel about him, not after all of that. Not only had you brought him home alone, drunk, and stumbled in on him shirtless, but nothing had happened. He never pressed, never made a move besides some flirting which is just so notoriously Rooster. Even drunk, he was more respectful than most people had ever been to you.

You love him.

There’s no other way to describe the deep, aching fondness in your chest.

You trust him, which seems even more important. Bradley would never do anything you wouldn’t want, he would never push himself on you, he would never force you to be something you’re not. Yet, you’ve made him feel like it’s impossible, because of your stupid vendetta against alphas.

The decision is made right then and there.

In the morning, when he’s more sober, you’ll show him just how much you like him and want him as an alpha. There will be no more doubt, no more holding back, no more suppressing every instinct that claws at your chest at the sight of him.

In the morning, he’ll definitely be getting that kiss.

---

When Rooster wakes up, it’s still dark out. A habit from all the early mornings for the job. He groans softly, head pounding like a herd of elephants are traipsing around inside it. He looks around blearily in the dark, barely catching the silhouette of a glass of water on his bed stand and the pills sitting next to it. He downs the painkillers quickly, finding the tiniest bit of relief from the cool water on his throat.

That’s the last time he drinks like that, he thinks, much like every morning he wakes up hungover.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Wincing, the alpha looks up with narrowed eyes, catching a familiar sight. You’re standing at the end of his bed - how did he miss you coming in? - dressed in a pair of shorts and one of his old shirts. You look significantly better off than how he feels.

“Morning,” he rasps and clears his throat, heat climbing up his neck, “What happened last night?”

“Not much. You proposed to me in a fit of undying love and cried when I said no,” you hum, holding the straightest face you can.

Absolute horror flashes across Rooster’s face, making his eyes go wide as saucers. The blush on his neck climbs all the way across his cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears. It only lasts for a few seconds before you burst into a fit of giggles, and understanding dawns on him. His features settle into something unimpressed.

“Not funny,” he growls, but the blush still lingering on his face makes it not too threatening.

“You’re just so fun to tease, Roo,” you coo, thoroughly entertained by the glare he sends you. You give his leg a pat, letting your touch linger - Rooster notices, his brow perking inquisitively at you - before you tuck your hands between your legs and your tone turns more serious, “Last night was fine. You just drank too much so I brought you home.”

“I didn’t do anything?”

“Weeeell…”

“(Y/n)?” His voice holds something uncertain in it, which is out of character for the aviator, and makes you soften.

You hold his gaze for a serious moment, biting your lip as you think through the words you’ve rehearsed over and over in your head. It’s not helping, not with the nerves swirling in your chest. You barely slept last night thinking about this moment.

“You were mad about what Hangman said at the bar last night,” you murmur slowly, to which he nods. That he remembers. “You wanted to make sure I knew he was wrong. You um, you said you want me?”

Bradley freezes. He looks down at his hands, fingers flexing and unflexing as he traces back the events of the night. It’s all blurry, but he does remember being close to you. Kissing you. He winces. That is not how he wanted that to go. But all the best pilots know that once you make a move, there’s no taking it back, so the best route is to just keep going…he hopes.

“And if that’s true?” He asks, bringing those dark eyes up to meet yours. They burn with the same intensity they did last night, making you bite your lips.

“Well, if that’s true…” You take a breath, gathering every ounce of courage left in your body to swing a leg over his, putting you right in his lap. Rooster inhales sharply, instinctively gripping your hips to steady you. His eyes are wide, brewing with something wicked as they stay locked on your face. “I’d have to tell you that I want you too…alpha.”

A low growl rumbles through the aviator’s chest and his fingers dig into your skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, you’re sure. And you love it. The omega in your crumbles when he draws you closer, close enough that your noses practically touch.

“You weren’t drinking last night too, were you darlin?” His voice is deliciously rough, brushing over all your senses, leaving you tingling.

“Nope,” you hum, draping your arms over his shoulders to play with the curls at his neck, “I’m all here, Bradley. This is my decision.”

“And you’re choosing me?”

Instead of saying anything, you take another deep breath to still the nerves boiling away under your skin, and slowly tilt your chin, exposing the expanse of your neck to the alpha. A sign of submission.

Bradley stills, chest practically heaving as he keeps himself from moving. Both of your hearts are pounding, the moment so quiet, so tense, as you look at him from under your lashes. Your eyes swim with uncertainty and a vulnerability he has never seen, and that breaks him from his spell.

“God, I love you.” He buries his face in your neck, breathing in every bit of your scent that he can. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin, a low giggle escaping you when he presses his lips to your neck, all gentle and slow and sure, but the brush of his mustache against your skin tickles. “I’ve loved you since that crash, probably since before it. Never thought I had a chance with you, baby girl.”

“Sorry for making you think that, Roo,” you gasp when he nips at your ear.

“Don’t be.” He presses kisses to your jaw, closer and closer to your lips. You wish he’d just hurry up. “This feels more rewarding.”

“What? Knowing you got the stubborn, little omega?” You jest, practically dizzy from all the contact, and from his scent which seems to swallow you. God, you love his scent.

“No.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Knowing you’re choosing me. It’s all you, darlin’. I never stood a chance against you.”

“I don’t think I did either,” you sigh, “Not with that stupid mustache and that face.”

“You like my face?” His eyes twinkle with boyish mirth.

“Shut up and kiss me, lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You can feel the curve of a smirk on his lips when they finally meet yours. And it’s perfect. His lips press gently to yours as his hands trace up your sides to cup your face. Every touch is searing, leaving behind trails of heat that make you whimper softly into the kiss. Bradley growls, the sound deep, low in his chest. He tilts your head, catches your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from you. He deepens the kiss, and you’re helpless against it, against him. He kisses you until you’re breathless, until you’re clinging to him and his hands are curled firmly around your waist, drawing you closer, closer, closer. Even when you break away, chest heaving for air, he doesn’t stop, just presses kisses along your neck, tugs the collar of your his shirt aside to drop kisses along your collarbone and shoulder. A shaky sigh escapes your lips, and you can’t help but curl your fingers tightly through his curls. The alpha groans, concentrating on the spot right below your ear that makes you tremble. You whine when he bites the spot, and a low rumble vibrates his chest as he traces his tongue over the stinging skin before he presses one final kiss over it.

Your whole body is like a live wire. You can’t catch your breath, can’t stop the shaking of your hands or the wild pace of your heart. But you feel alive. You feel alive for the first time in forever.

“I love you,” Bradley murmurs again as he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he too tries to catch his breath.

“I love you, too,” you laugh breathlessly, “I can’t believe I’ve made you wait so long.”

“Worth it.” He hits you with that stupid, lopsided grin you love so much.

“Definitely….”

“...alpha.”

Bradley opens his eyes, glaring at you playfully, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’.”

You peck his lips one last time, teasingly soft, before you jump up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! I kept my promise about the kiss, didn’t I?”

A low laugh sounds from the bedroom, and you smile.

Yah, this was the right decision.

Note: This was purely self-indulgent when I wrote it, but I liked it, so I figured I’d post it somewhere. Hope someone else likes it!

[nixies-creations]

Title: Who Helps the Helper? Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin. Rating: SFW/No Archive Warnings Apply. Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Alpha Jake "Hangman" Seresin; Omega Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw; Hurt Jake "Hangman" Seresin; Sudden Heat; Jake isn't doing great in this one babes; Jake "Hangman" Seresin Needs a Hug; Alternate Universe. Word Count: 820. Created for @topgunalternateuniverse Square Filled: A/B/O: Sudden Heat/Sudden Rut.  Chapters: 1 of 2.

Summary: 

Post Mission, Bradley goes into a sudden heat and Jake helps him through it. But who helps Jake deal with the guilt of assisting his ex-boyfriend, his former omega, through something that is meant to be shared with someone an omega deems worthy?

Read On Ao3.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 40

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1407

Warnings: Swearing, violence, pregnancy complications

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Hi Lo Hold On For Your Life

****

Ghost

Amid the chaos and fending for her life, Hangman's, and Maverick's, Ghost had forgotten a crucial thing: Rooster and Juliette. They were meant to swing by with their keys, and Ghost only remembered when she saw Rooster standing bewildered in the doorway, staring at the all-out brawl. His eyes slid to Ghost first, still lying on the floor and barely clinging to consciousness. She refused to pass out, terrified of what she'd wake up to if she did. Hangman had blood all over him, but whether it was his, Kyle's, or Nick's, Ghost couldn't tell. Maverick had blood on him, too, but not near as much as her boyfriend.

Get up! Get up! Get up! Ghost screamed silently at herself. Help them!

Her brain sent the order to her muscles, but they refused to obey. Meanwhile, Rooster entered the fray, joining Maverick in his endeavor to take down Nick once and for all. Hangman still battled Kyle, the latter gradually gaining the upper hand. Ghost could see her boyfriend's movements slowing down, could see him struggling to stay standing, but he endured.

Help him damn it! Get up and do something! Ghost snarled internally at herself. With a Herculean effort, she began the painful process of pushing herself up. Her vision swam from the concussion she knew she had, and her head throbbed where it'd hit the corner of the TV stand. It wouldn't surprise her if it were bleeding, but that could be handled later. For now, Ghost had to help the situation rather than lying useless on the floor, no matter how badly her head hurt.

Ghost grabbed hold of the TV stand and used it to hoist herself up. She waited for her vision to stop swimming, although even when the swirling halted, it remained teetering from side to side. Still, it was better than it had been, and Ghost had Kyle's ass to kick. She took a step forward right as Hangman crouched and rushed at Kyle football-style, grabbing his waist and knocking him back directly into the coffee table, which broke and splintered on impact. She cringed, the sound exponentially louder to Ghost than it truly was, her hearing hypersensitive due to the concussion. She shut her eyes, willing the pounding in her head to calm down, and when she opened them again, Ghost found Hangman sitting atop Kyle, pinning him to the ground. Scratches marred his arms, and blood trickled down his face and soaked his shirt, but he acted okay. Looking to her left, she saw Maverick and Rooster stumble backward from Nick exploding upwards from the ground. How was he still going? 

Ghost blinked, and in that short time span, Nick collapsed to the ground. Behind him stood Juliette, a wooden baseball bat in her hands, lifted like she was ready to swing again if Nick stood. Then-

Silence.

The quiet- a sharp contrast to the noise from the brawl- exacerbated the ringing in Ghost's ears. She barely heard Rooster exclaim to Juliette, "What are you doing here?!" before hurling the contents of her stomach onto the floor. 

"Ghost?!" Hangman shouted as she collapsed to her knees. Maverick rushed to her side, pulling her hair back as she vomited two more times. 

"The cops will be here shortly," Juliette's distant voice said shakily. 

"I told you to wait in the car!" Rooster snapped, righting the toppled armchair and ushering her into it. "What the hell were you thinking coming in here?"

"You were taking too long. I thought something might be wrong. I barely got to the window when I saw the fight, so I ran back to the car and grabbed the crowbar. When I returned and saw Nick stand, I realized he didn't know I was there, I saw the opportunity and took it."

"You took it! And put yourself and the twins in dang-"

"Bradley, I had the chance to do something, and I did it! Don't yell at me right now. We can argue about this later. For now, make sure Nick stays down until the cops come here." Juliette's tone, firm and furious, forced Rooster to listen. He grudgingly stalked over to the unconscious Seresin brother and pinned his arms behind his back.

"Ghost, you okay?" Juliette asked from across the room.

"My head..." Ghost groaned, clutching the backside of it. Warm liquid touched her skin, confirming her suspicion that it'd been bleeding.

"Lean back," Maverick ordered kindly. Ghost listened willingly but kept her eyes on Hangman, scanning him for any injuries. She couldn't see any through his blood-soaked shirt. 

"Jake, are you okay?" she croaked out.

"I'm good." 

Ghost noticed his wan pallor and decided Hangman was anything but 'good.' "Mav, help me over to him."

The Captain shook his head. "I don't think-"

"Either you help me, or I do it myself."

With a sigh of defeat, Maverick assisted Ghost in standing, keeping a firm hand around her waist to keep her upright. She sank to her knees beside Hangman the moment she reached him and gingerly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Is the blood yours or-"

"I don't know," Hangman admitted, leaning back when Maverick took over restraining Kyle, who had begun to stir. He sat on his heels and reached out to tug Ghost closer to him. She willingly allowed the embrace, melting in his arms when he kissed the top of her head. 

"Jules, you okay?" Ghost slurred slightly, forcing her eyes to stay open. Sleep sounded like the best possible thing. It's all she could think about.

"Yeah. Shaken, but good. I'll help in a second and-"

"You going to stay right there until the cops come," Rooster interrupted shortly. "Your blood pressure is high enough. I don't want it getting any-"

Police entering the scene cut him off, and suddenly, a new flurry of activity overtook the apartment. Hangman tried standing but couldn't; instead, he swayed in place as if he might pass out. Ghost attributed it to the adrenaline wearing off, but when he fell forward and caught himself on all fours, that's when she saw the knife embedded in his back. Saw the slash wounds in his shirt, blood seeping out like little waterfalls. 

Ghost had never screamed in her life before, but she did then. Screamed for someone to help him as the last of his strength finally gave out, and he collapsed in a heap. Ghost tried catching him, but her own injuries had zapped her strength, so the most she did was stop his head from crashing into the debris of the broken coffee table.

Paramedics surrounded them, and Ghost scrambled backward to allow them to work. Maverick dropped to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Ghost's head spun once more, but this time, not from her concussion. From seeing Hangman's ghastly injuries. 

The paramedics blocked her view of him, and all she could think was that they needed more EMTs. So many injuries and so few people. God must've heard her thoughts because more first responders arrived shortly after, and they assessed her injuries along with Maverick's. The Captain, outside of a possible mild concussion and some wounds that would need minor stitching, was relatively okay. She was in the same boat, albeit with a moderate, possibly severe, concussion. 

"What- Jake. How's- how's Jake?" Ghost demanded, straining to see past the paramedics. 

"Get off me, pigs!" Nick's irate shouts pierced the air, and the sound caused a shudder to run down Ghost's spine. Maverick stood, expression murderous and only distorted by a brief wince of pain. He stared Nick down, watching him be dragged away by two burly cops. If looks could kill...

"We need to get him to the emergency room immediately," an EMT declared, capturing Ghost's attention. "We need a helicopter. Ambulance won't be fast enough."

"One's on the way," another responded.

"Good. Hey, uh, Miss, are you okay?" The man referred to Juliette. Ghost peered around him to study her friend, disturbed to find her standing and staring into space. Rooster cupped his fiancée's face, desperately attempting to get her attention. He failed, only succeeding in catching Juliette when her legs gave out from underneath her. He lay her on the floor, and then, Ghost noticed with horror that her best friend's body twitched and jerked uncontrollably; her eyes rolled in the back of her head. 

Juliette was having a seizure.

****

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[nanny-sc]

Omega Jake goes unexpectedly in heat while he is in mission.

Luckily an alpha rescues him, before the disaster, putting him in his room and take forniture for the omega every days. For the rest of time, days and nights, the alpha stays outside his room to make sure nobody can take advantage of the omega glaring to everyone who dare to be near them.

Jake's omega knows who is the alpha, he feels safe with him and pleased by the protectiness, strenght and nobless of his alpha but he is also worried because feel that his alpha doesnt care of himself to protect him, he promise himself to give all the love his alpha deserves when this is finish.

Jake wakes up one morning feeling better knowing the heat is ended, before to do anything else he goes to the door to thank the alpha and, if Jake likes him, asking for a date when they landed.

(Jake's omega is already planning the wedding and the name of their childrens: for some reason specified that hawaiian shirts are not allowed and the name of the first one will be Nick or Carole)

[flowersonmymind1016]

Alpha/Omega Soulmate Hangster AU anyone?

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Top Gun (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Tom “Iceman” Kazansky Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Breastfeeding, Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Pseudo-Incest, Growing Up Series: Part 3 of Top Gun Summary:

When Bradley was 6 years old, Pete’s life as he knew it changed irrevocably.

Or… the journey of Mav and Ice becoming Bradley’s parents and how their pack bonding ritual changes over the years.

[lesbiradshaw]

really big fan of male princess characters if you know what i mean.

[itshoneywhatever]

Commiseration Tuesday

With AO3 temporarily down, lots of us are sad at not being able to read when we wanted to! With that in mind, I’m taking the opportunity to invite you guys to share a little something from a WIP to keep us going through the downtime! Preferably something we haven’t shared before, but whatever works for you!

I truly think this an incredible idea!! Thank you so much @ravens-words for tagging me on this!! 💞

Hangster Bodyguard AU (with ABO Dynamics)

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but—” he stops when he notices that besides his father and Kerner, there’s another man there. An alpha he recognizes. “What are you doing here?” Jake doesn’t give time to answer. “Oh my god, are you stalking me?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“You two know each other?” Ron asks, looking between the two of them.

“Jake, explain yourself.” His father orders.

And that’s when Jake finally takes a moment to take in what's going on around the room: Kerner, their head of security, seems to have been interviewing someone; his father there presumably to meet this someone; his scheduled meeting with his father in regards to his own security.

“No.”

“No?” John repeats.

“He can’t be my bodyguard.”

“You’re the one I’m meant to protect?” The other alpha, Bradley if Jake remembers correctly, asks.

“Why can’t he?”

And here’s the thing, his father may be an alpha from the south but he and Jake have always had a good relationship, being able to talk about anything and everything. That’s why he doesn’t hesitate when he replies, “We slept together.”

Jake takes a special kind of satisfaction when he sees Bradley blush at his admission. His father, on the other hand, barely reacts; his eyes widening just the slightest bit.

“When was this?” John inquiries.

“My last business trip to LA.” It was exactly ten weeks ago, but Jake doesn’t want to seem desperate by saying that. It doesn’t matter, because his father knows the exact date he traveled to California to deal with a new business deal.

“Is he the reason why that trip was extended?” His father, not a man to beat around the bush, asks him with a knowing look and now it’s the omega’s turn to feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Maybe,” he answers.

His last business trip was meant to be a short one, three days if everything went okay and five days if the negotiations were dragged out. He met Bradley on his second night out and ended up staying for two weeks.

John looks at Bradley who squares his shoulders, trying to look strong yet at ease. And Jake has the feeling that maybe his father is picturing the younger alpha on a wedding suit and whether he’s worthy of being with his son.

Always the protector, his father is.

—

here’s another sneak peek 🫣

—

Tagging: @henswilsons @hangmanbradshaw @the-ace-with-spades @theshelbyclan @weeo and honestly anyone who sees this and wants to do it too! 💞

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

"Her past in Blue River and her future with Red Sky.

How could she possibly save it all when she felt crushed beneath the weight of it too?"

from "the echo (or the answer" a werewolf!topgun au

I liked this gif too much not to share it separately from my masterlist lol

werewolf!topgun taglist:

@blue-aconite @darkestbeforethedawn16 @supernaturaldawning @illisius @hope-love-equality2 @wanderingdetectives @sqrlgrl22 @dempy @theforevermorereject @the-untamed-soul @emandems10 @xxshea-barnesxx @piceous21 @sopheeg @ollyoxenfrees @luckyladycreator2 @newlibrary @himbos-on-ice @gigisimsonmars @agentminnesota187 @indynerdgirl @mellark-studio @smoothdogsgirl @kkrenae

[blue-aconite]

between the wolves || prologue

Summary: She was, after all, running away from him. From their future. A future she didn’t want.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin x OC 

Authors Note: It’s finally here. Thank you to my werewolf love @anniesocsandgeneralstore for beta reading. Thank you for cheering me on, listening to me rant and being my best friend. This fic would not exist without you.

New Message

To: Sam H

“I’m sorry. I need some space. I need to breathe, to be alone. Take care. I’ll miss you.”

The last part was a lie, she thought as she stared at the screen before locking it and putting her phone away. She wouldn’t miss him. She was, after all, running away from him. From their future. A future she didn’t want. 

Cassandra leaned back against the uncomfortable seat and closed her eyes. Check-in had gone smoothly and she wasn’t set to board her flight for another thirty minutes. She double checked her boarding pass and passport when her phone went off again.

There were four messages from Sam and two from her mother, including three voicemails. She had opened neither. At the top was a new message from her father.

1 New Message

From: Dad

“Be safe. Text me when you land. I’ll deal with your mother. And Sam.”

She smiled before setting the phone on flight mode and pocketed the device. Looking up, she saw people were beginning to move, anxious to board the plane but Cassandra stayed put. There was no point in rushing. 

She might have been in the middle of one of the busiest airports in New York but she had never felt calmer. Leaving had been the right decision. 

‘Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 75B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those passengers in first class, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes. Thank you.’

Cassandra gathered her things and joined the queue, letting an older couple through first.

“Thank you dear. Travelling alone?” the woman smiled kindly. She reminded Cassie of her own grandmother.

“Yes ma’am. A break from everything.” she smiled. The woman patted her arm before joining her husband again. 

While settling into her seat Cassie couldn’t help but to think about what she had told the woman. A much needed break. She was aware that she was running but she didn’t know what else to do. So much of her life had been planned for her but wasn’t what she wanted. Not anymore. 

Her mother had insisted on this ridiculously huge graduation party. Cassie hadn’t cared either way. She would have been fine with a family dinner. But appearances were important. 

“I’m going to get another drink, be right back.” she patted Sam on the arm before heading inside. She smiled politely as she passed people but hurried out of sight as soon as possible. 

She spotted the twins on her way up the stairs, talking with some of their father’s work associates. Cassie debated interrupting the conversation but continued walking. She didn’t stop until the door to the guest room was shut and locked behind her. 

Leaning back against the door, she slid down onto the floor, not caring if she messed up the dress. 

This was supposed to be a happy day. But all she could think about was the ring she had found in Sam’s bedside table a few days ago. She wasn’t stupid and she had seen the ring before, on his grandmothers hand. It was a family heirloom. Meant for one thing. Marriage. 

Sam proposing wasn’t a surprise though. They had been together since they were sixteen years old and known each other longer than that. Sam was, in many ways, her best friend. Her first love. Her rock, her confidant. She loved him. Or at least she thought she did.

The thought of spending the rest of her life with him had her stomach in knots. She could see it so clearly, the future laid out in front of her. All planned. And she didn’t want it. 

There was a point in her life where she wanted nothing else. At sixteen, Sam was everything she ever wanted. But she had never realised how much of it had been planned. Their mother’s had made suggestive comments for years, talking about her and Sam’s future before it had even begun. How much of it was true and how much of it was built on expectations?

Of course the love between them hadn’t been fake. She could truly say that she loved him. She just wasn’t sure she was in love with him anymore. And the ring had only solidified what she already knew. She needed to get away, to sort out her feelings on her own. Without Sam, without her mother’s constant meddling. 

Leaving the bedroom, she went back downstairs only to run into Sam in the kitchen.

“There you are. I’ve been looking, you’ve been gone for a while,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her.

“Sorry, I got caught up in my own head. I’m actually not feeling very well. Would you please distract my mother while I slip away?”

“Leaving your own party, bold. But I’ll do it.” Sam leaned in for a kiss but she turned her head just in time for him to kiss her cheek. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, yeah?” she slipped away before he could answer.

Cassie didn’t slow down until she was in a cab on her way to JFK, no destination in mind. All she knew was that she needed to leave.

When Cassandra lands in Anchorage, she already knows it isn’t her final destination. She doesn’t need another big city. Alaska had seemed perfect when she left New York but she wanted somewhere small. But she had no idea where that would be. 

Cassie trudges along with the rest of the passengers towards baggage claim. The eleven hour flight had taken its toll. Not to mention the different time zones. She spotted her bags fairly early and grabbed them off the conveyor belt and made for the exit. 

Sitting down on a bench, she digs out her phone and resets the airplane mode. Several messages pop up on her screen but she ignores them in favour of texting her dad that she made it. The clock on the wall shows four am and Cassie realises how tired she is. 

A quick google search lands her on a hotel fairly close to the airport and then she orders a uber. Fifteen minutes later the driver is helping her into the lobby with her bags. She books a room for one night only and collapses onto the bed immediately. 

She has no idea where she’s going next. But the growing anxiety is lessening by the minute and when sleep claims her, she isn’t worried. She would be alright. No matter what.

The Wolf Pack; @anniesocsandgeneralstore @wildbornsiren @imjess-themess @princessmisery666 @princessphilly @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @writercole @hederasgarden @therebeccaw

Taglist: @yanna-banana @hollandorks @somenamewithepineapple @callsign-phoenix @greenorangevioletgrass @green-socks @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @kkrenae @khaylin27​ @oneelleandaneye @crescentwolf

Let me know if you want to be added/removed

[shuosjedaowashere]

Chap 1 of people, and places (and the way some people refuse to stay where they are meant to be)

Brief Summary: In which Rooster only wants to cook on his leave and maybe go on vacation, but there's the small matter of Jake, his impending rut, and Rooster's ability to resist the said rut. 

Or, Rooster finds out that Jake might be an excellent test case for his maybe-probably-barely there kink.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 37

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1417

Warnings: Swearing, insinuation of sex

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: True The Alchemy

****

Hangman

The blue light of breaking dawn peeked through his curtains, adding to the serene, surreal reality Hangman found himself in. Ghost lay beside him in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder and arm draped lazily over his torso. He traced mindless patterns on her bare back with one hand while his other rested on her arm. Sleep remained fleeting throughout the night, only allowing him a few precious hours of rest. It was Hangman's own fault. He feared if he fell asleep, that when he awoke, the events of yesterday and last night would be a dream. A cruel, heartbreaking, wishful dream. 

I love you. Ghost's words echoed repeatedly in his head. Hangman couldn't stop it. For so long, he'd ached to hear those words, and then she'd said them. Hangman hadn't quite been able to process it, still silently reeling from seeing the letters he'd written to her- with no intentions of ever relinquishing them to her- in Ghost's hands. Coyote had no right to give them to her, but while Hangman wanted to give his friend a piece of his mind about it, he also recognized that without it, he and Ghost may never have confronted each other about everything.

Ghost twitched in her sleep and whimpered. Hangman placed a kiss on the top of her head, and she settled down. A few moments later, she stirred, squinting at the daylight and letting out an annoyed groan. She shifted slightly up his body to hide her eyes in the crook of his neck.

Chuckling to himself, he whispered, "Good morning."

Ghost only let a tired grunt in response. She had never been a morning person unless it involved getting breakfast, so Hangman didn't take it personally. 

"You hungry?" Hangman queried. 

Ghost nodded but failed to move to let him up. When he pointed this out to her, she mumbled, "I think I'm going to choose starving and staying where I'm at."

Hangman, unable to stop himself from teasing her, said, "Can you say that again? I can't hear you when you're talking into my shoulder."

Ghost twisted her head and rested it on his chest, but didn't look up at him. She repeated what she'd said and added, "You didn't have trouble hearing me talk into your shoulder last night."

Hangman laughed good-naturedly, tugging her closer to him. "That's because you were screaming, not mumbling."

"Shut up." The searing kiss Ghost captured him in took away any seriousness from her statement. God, Hangman couldn't get enough of her. He never believed they'd be like this together, let alone even speaking. And the strangest sensation, the most unfamiliar emotion, settled over him. 

Happy.

He was happy.

Hangman tried to reflect on the last time he felt the way he did now. It didn't take long to figure out it had been before Ghoul died. A time when he and Ghost had briefly returned to Texas, and they sat on the bleachers of their high school football stadium, staring up at the stars, laughing so hard that tears filled their eyes. For the life of him, what they had talked about eluded him, but the memory and feelings remained, and Hangman would savor them forever, including the current moment he found himself in.

Hangman kissed the top of Ghost's head and said, "You relax here. I'm going to cook breakfast."

"No, no, I need to get up. Otherwise, I'll sleep until noon."

"We can go back to sleep after breakfast because God knows we barely got any last night."

Ghost grinned wickedly. "Who says we'll get any after breakfast?"

Hangman debated on saying 'fuck it' and skipping eating if it meant going another round -or two- with Ghost, but the love of his life decided for him, rousing herself out of bed and heading to the bathroom. He forced himself up and threw on some underwear and gray sweatpants before shuffling to the kitchen. He pulled out the bacon, the eggs, and some potatoes and got to cooking, playing some soft country music in the background.

About ten minutes later, Ghost padded in, wearing nothing but her underwear and his t-shirt. He nearly went weak in the knees at the sight but managed to stay upright through sheer stubborness. Ghost sat at the bar and watched him cook. Without a word, he slid a cup of tea over to her, already made the way she liked it with cream and sugar.

Ghost smiled sleepily and said, "I needed this."

"Wake you up for round two?" Hangman asked cheekily.

She snorted softly. "I'm pretty sure it'll be more like round six or seven, but no. It's not just because I got no sleep last night."

Hangman grated the potatoes to prep for the hash browns. "What's up?"

Ghost traced the rim of the cup, staring into the steaming hot liquid. "You know how my mom and dad split up for a bit before I was born?"

"Yeah, your mom came to Cali. Why?"

"She met up with Maverick while she did. They... had a fling."

"Huh. I'm surprised Charlie did that when she was still technically married. I mean, I know your parents were separated, but-"

"That's not the kicker."

"I feel I should stop grating the potatoes for this."

"You might want to sit down, actually," Ghost suggested with mild amusement. Hangman remained standing but braced himself on the counter. "It was roughly nine months before I was born."

"I don't... Oh. OH!" Hangman barely remained standing as the epiphany struck him harder than a plane going Mach 2. "You-you're-"

"Maverick's daughter," Ghost finished, crossing her arms on the counter and resting her chin atop them. "I haven't told anyone else in the Daggers. Not even Juliette. I wasn't planning on anyone finding out, especially Mom and Maverick."

"They know?"

"Yeah. Mom somehow found out, and I know she told Maverick because he tried calling me not long after Mom called me out on it. That was before I came over here, so, you know, was dealing with two existential crises at a time. Figured this one might be more easily solved since it was closer to home."

"Maverick's close to home," Hangman pointed out, tossing the potatoes onto the skillet. "Why not deal with him first?"

Ghost shrugged. "I don't know where to start or what to do about it. With you, I at least had history to go off of."

"And the knowledge that, for better or worse, I just can't say no to you."

Mischief flared in her eyes. "You shouldn't have told me that."

"Food first-" Hangman said, piling her plate with breakfast- "cardio after."

He joined her at the bar, and they said nothing as they devoured their food, starving from yesterday's activities. And last night's. But Hangman didn't mind the silence. It allowed him to wrap his head around everything that had happened and been discovered in the past twenty-four hours, and Hangman couldn't decide what shocked him more: Ghost sitting beside him as more than a friend or the news of Ghost's real father.

Maverick was Ghost's biological dad. 

How... well, he knew how, but still. How would this affect Ghost's relationship with the Captain? How would it affect her relationship with Juliette, who had practically been a surrogate daughter to Maverick? And Rooster, who might as well have been Maverick's son? 

"Trust me, I've had the same thoughts," Ghost said quietly, picking at the last few pieces of hashbrown on her plate.

"How did you-"

"I recognize the expression," she replied simply. "I should probably call my mom back, and Maverick too, for that matter, but I don't want to deal with it. I just... I want to enjoy a sliver of peace and happiness right now."

Hangman grabbed the underside of her stool and pulled her closer to him. "You don't have to face this alone. I'm with you."

"Forever?"

He leaned in and pecked her on the lips. "And always."

Ghost smiled, a blush rising on her cheeks. "Would it be okay if I stayed here a little longer? I don't want to go home yet."

"Of course," Hangman replied immediately, silently pleased not only for his own selfish reasons of keeping Ghost at his side for as long as possible but also because a little voice whispered sinisterly at him that if he let her out of his sight any time soon, he wouldn't see her again for a long time. 

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989 @atarmychick007 @rotating-obsessions

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

[hederasgarden]

Glen Powell Characters Masterlist

Twisters

Series

On the Horizon (Tyler Owens x F!Reader with minor Scott x Reader | Mature)

You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has. 

Bound (Werewolf!Tyler Owens x Human!F!Reader | Mature)

When a dangerous situation pushes you out of the only home you've never known, you take refuge with an unruly pack of wolves. Tyler Owens might not be the alpha you think you want, but he’s the one you need.

Drabbles

Ride it (Tyler Owens x F!Reader | Mature | 569)

Prompt- "Don't be shy now, sit on my face" with the cowboy himself, Mr. Tyler Owens.

Headcanons

General Tyler headcanons

Top Gun

Oneshots

Flirting For Dummies  (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Mature l 8.3K)

Turns out the crush you have on one of the pilots that frequents the Hard Deck isn’t quite so unrequited. You’re just bad at recognizing when someone’s flirting with you. Good thing Jake’s happy to help you understand how interested he really is.

Flirting For Dummies follow up drabble

Intoxicated (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 3.3K)

A drunken confession to your best friend leads to more than you expected.

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 950)

You give Hangman a special memory in the Top Gun rec room on the eve of his graduation.

If You Can’t Take the Heat (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 935) You mouth off at the Hard Deck and Jake reminds you who’s really in charge.

Lose Control (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 1K)

You’re determined to make Jake lose control.

Sweet Surrender (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 2.1K)

Jake’s given and taken orders a hundred times throughout his career but nothing compares to the moment he realizes you liked it. 

Dating Jake Seresin Musings (Mature)

Hangman’s Thick Fingers (Explicit)

Orgasm Denial Kink with Jake (Explicit)

Friendly Competition (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin | Ongoing Series | Explicit | 2.8K)

Rooster and Hangman’s competition for your attention reaches a new level.

Sometimes All I Need Is You (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader x Jake “Hangman” SeresinGen | 1.6K)

Hangman and Rooster comfort you after a difficult day.  

Night Drive (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin | Explicit | 867)

Your reunion with Rooster gets interrupted by Hangman. 

Take It Off (Mafia boss!Jake Seresin  x F!Reader | Mature| 1.3K)

Prompt -"You heard me. Take. It. Off.” with Mafia Jake Seresin? (make it as dark as you'd like!)

Headcanons

Living with Rooster and Hangman 

♡Main Masterlist♡

Thank you @callsignhurricane for my beautiful headers!