#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

[thedarkworldofhananerea]

I'm new to this whole tumblr thing, but I have some ideas about some shots on Bradley Bradshaw or Jake Seresin, help me, we know we deserve it

[justabigassnerd]

Patience Worn Thin

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word Count - 2,300

Warnings - harassment, violence, injuries, alcohol, drinking, angst, fluff

Summary - after seeing someone bother Bradley one too many times, you take matters into your own hands

A/N - hey y'all I'm back with another anon request and I hope I did it justice! I am the most unconfrontational person on the planet so this was a little out of my depth but it's always good to try new things. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

“Hey babe, me and the Daggers are heading to the Hard Deck for a couple of drinks. Want to come?” Bradley says in his usual soft tone as he sweeps you up into a hug, holding you close as if he hadn’t seen you in years when in reality he had simply gone upstairs for a few minutes and just returned downstairs.

“If they’re okay with me tagging along.” You say, curling your arms around Bradley and resting your head just above his heart and listening to the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.

“They’re always okay with you coming. If they weren’t, they’d have to deal with me and Mav.” Bradley says, his soft chuckle rumbling against your ear before you lift your head off his chest, laughing to yourself as you visualise your boyfriend and your dad teaming up against all the Daggers. While you were Maverick’s daughter, you weren’t an aviator, instead, you had opted to work in nursing and found yourself working in a hospital local to where your dad and boyfriend worked.

“Guess we’re going to the Hard Deck then.” You say with a soft smile as you look up at Bradley as he looks down at you, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. When you both pull away, Bradley’s phone buzzes and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling it from his pocket and inspecting the text displayed.

“We better get a move on. Apparently, I owe Jake a darts match and I fear that if I don’t show up soon my callsign might change from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Chicken’.” Bradley says with a laugh as you move out of his embrace, laughing as you imagine him being called ‘Chicken’ day in and day out at work.

“Let’s get you down to the Hard Deck then. Can’t have my boyfriend being seen as someone afraid of a darts match against Jake of all people.” You say, patting Bradley’s chest before moving past him to get yourself ready to head to the bar.

When you are ready, you head out of the house with Bradley and get into the passenger seat of his Bronco, smiling as Bradley instinctively rests his free hand on your thigh as he drives, singing along to the radio under his breath as he goes. Eventually, he parks outside the Hard Deck and the two of you get out and head into the bar together.

“Want me to grab you a drink? I’ll be designated driver if you want?” You say, turning to face Bradley almost the moment the two of you entered the bar.

“Are you sure?” Bradley asks, soft enough for the moment to be just between the two of you but loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar.

“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with me driving the Bronco of course.” You say with a small smile as Bradley rests a hand on your waist, the other digging in his pocket and holding the Bronco keys between the two of you.

“There’s no one else I’d trust to drive her.” He says, grinning as you take the keys before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

“Bradshaw! Get your ass over here!” You pull away with a giggle at Jake’s voice ringing clearly over the noise of the busy bar and Bradley rolls his eyes.

“He really knows how to pick a time, huh?” Bradley mutters, winding an arm around your waist and guiding you over to the Dagger's usual spot near the pool tables and dart board.

“Hey, you brought y/n!” Jake greets you enthusiastically as the two of you approach, instantly approaching you, arms outstretched for a hug that you’re more than happy to give him, pulling away and greeting the other Daggers with hugs before returning to Bradley’s side.

“Okay, I’m going to grab you a drink now. Beer?” You say to Bradley as he nods.

“That would be great, thank you.” Bradley says gratefully, kissing the top of your head before letting you cross the bar to talk to Penny.

“y/n! How lovely to see you.” Penny greets you happily, smiling as she leans up against the bar to talk to you.

“It’s good to see you too, Penny.” You say, smiling at Penny.

“Beers for you and Bradley?” Penny asks, instinctively reaching down to the fridge that contains the beers you and Bradley like to drink.

“Just one for Bradley. I’ll take a soda.” You say, pulling out your card and handing it to Penny to start a tab just in case you and Bradley wanted more drinks throughout the evening. Penny soon hands you your two drinks and you thank her with a smile before turning and heading back over to Bradley who was standing with Jake near the dart board.

“Here you go.” You say, holding Bradley’s beer out towards him as he takes it gratefully, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips in thanks.

“Get a room you two.” Jake grumbles, plucking the darts from the board and handing some of them to Bradley.

“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend. Then me and Bradley will be saying it to you.” You say with a laugh as Jake rolls his eyes. You then make your way over to Natasha and Bob, sitting with them and making conversation with them as Bradley and Jake play their darts match.

An hour or so later, after Jake and Bradley are finally done with their final match, you get up, excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave the group to their own devices for a few minutes. However, when you return, you can’t say you were impressed with the scene before you.

When you leave the bathroom, shaking the remnants of water off your hands, you see a woman almost draping herself over Bradley who doesn’t look entirely comfortable with her proximity. You could tell he was saying something to her, but you didn’t know what it was. You soon crossed the bar and sidled up alongside Bradley, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Hey babe. Who’s your friend?” You ask innocently, turning to look at the woman who had at least had the decency to take a step back.

“I’m Mia.” She says, barely giving Bradley a chance to respond, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well, nice to meet you, Mia. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my boyfriend. It's our first time seeing each other in months. You can understand that, right?” The lie comes quickly and easily to you. You weren’t the biggest fan of sounding possessive over Bradley but after seeing how uncomfortable he had looked you didn’t want this person ever coming near him again. With a huff, Mia rolled her eyes and stalked off. The moment she was out of sight you turned to Bradley.

“I didn’t mean to speak for you. I could tell you weren’t comfortable.” You apologise quickly, stopping only when Bradley kisses you, words catching in your throat.

“Don’t apologise.” Bradley whispers after pulling away enough to speak, lips brushing against yours with every word spoken. You nod your head slightly at his words before pulling away, determined to spend the rest of the evening with your friends and forget about the incident that had happened as you hoped it was a one-time event.

Oh how wrong you were.

Bradley had gone to the Hard Deck a couple of times while you stayed home or had work and each time had come back complaining that Mia had been there and had been completely disregarding his obvious boundaries and ignoring that he had a girlfriend, having been convinced it was a ploy to keep her away, he had told you. Bradley had told you that all of the Daggers had tried to help him keep her away, but she was a lot more persistent than they expected. All you did at the moment was hug Bradley tight, feeling awful that he was going through that without you to help him before you spoke up.

“Next time you go to the Hard Deck, I’m coming with you.”

True to your word, the next time Bradley and the Daggers organised a time to go to the Hard Deck, you made sure you were free to accompany Bradley. The two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, walking in hand in hand as your eyes immediately scoured the bar looking for Mia, letting out a small, satisfied sigh when you couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gotten the hint after all, so you allowed yourself to relax as you crossed to the Daggers, greeting them all with a smile.

The evening progressed pleasantly, everyone laughing, playing pool, or gossiping about the new Top Gun recruits. Then the all-familiar bell rang signalling that someone would be paying for a round for everyone in the bar.

“I’m going to grab us all a drink.” You say, instantly excusing yourself to grab a drink for yourself and all your friends.

When you returned to the group, Mia was there. She had apparently escaped your skimmed searches of the bar and snuck in the moment you moved away from Bradley. You approached the table Mickey and Javy were sitting at and placed the tray down, immediately turning around and approaching her.

“Excuse me, I was very polite the first time that we met but I don’t appreciate that you keep trying to force yourself on my boyfriend and make him uncomfortable. Please leave him alone.” You say, firmness sneaking into your voice as you position yourself next to Bradley, noticing how all the Daggers immediately have their attention on you, ready to step in if needed.

“You’re clearly lying to yourself if you think that he could ever be your boyfriend. He’s way out of your league and much better suited to be dating someone like me. Besides it’s not like he was saying no.” Mia says with a snarky tone as she folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she looks you up and down.

“He wasn’t saying anything! Isn’t that enough of a hint for you?!” You cry out, growing more enraged when Mia just shrugs.

“I can tell when men like what I’m doing. Besides, men never say no. I know it can be hard to accept but sometimes men prefer people like me over people like you.” Mia’s chosen words enraged you so much that you did something you never thought you’d be capable of doing.

You punched her.

You would’ve regretted it had Mia not attacked you back. She practically pushed you to the floor and you were quick to drag her down with you, pinning her to the floor and just giving her hell. You couldn’t even recall what you were doing, you were just so blinded by your rage and this woman’s audacity. You kept throwing punches and slaps, as did Mia, a fair few coming into contact with you until you felt two muscular arms wrap around your middle and drag you off Mia and the moment you were clear, you were vaguely aware of Jake and Reuben stepping in between you and Mia as a barrier.

“y/n, honey, you need to calm down.” Bradley’s soothing, gentle voice whispers in your ear as he hauls you away from the chaos and holds you carefully in place, his eyes shining with worry as Natasha appears alongside him while Bob rushes to fill Penny in on what happened. Bradley guides you to the bar, sitting you on one of the stools while Natasha follows Penny to get you an ice pack. The second Natasha returns, Bradley takes the ice pack and holds it near your eye where he could tell a bruise was already beginning to form. You could hear Penny calling for Mia to be escorted out and given a ban from the Hard Deck and all you could think about was how grateful you were that she wouldn’t be around to bother Bradley anymore.

“I appreciate you defending me, y/n but you didn’t need to do this. You’re hurt.” Bradley mutters, eyes scanning you for any more injuries while he holds the ice pack in place.

“I couldn’t let her treat you like that. I just snapped.” You admit, looking up and making eye contact with the man you love.

“It happens to the best of us. I bet Mav’s done something like that before, it’ll be where you got that from.” Bradley says, smiling lightly as he changes the subject to bring a smile to your face which he was successful in doing.

“There’s no way dad hasn’t punched someone in the defence of someone he loves.” You giggle, wincing lightly when Bradley applies a little bit more pressure accidentally to the tender area, which of course makes him apologise instantly.

“I have to admit. It was really attractive seeing you defend me like that.” Bradley muses, moving the ice pack away from your eye and setting it on the countertop.

“Really?” You ask, feeling your face heat up at his words.

“Really. No one’s ever defended me like that before. It just means a lot more because it’s you.” Bradley says softly, cupping your face softly and leaning in until his lips meet yours, the kiss alone conveying everything Bradley needed to say. You both pull away when you hear the Daggers calling for both you and Bradley and you laugh as you glance from them to Bradley who lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.

“I think we should head over so you can talk to your fans, huh?”

[criesinliess]

━MARCH 2023; susan's recs

LOCKWOOD&CO

knock knock. who's there? @klineinie

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

a taste of normalcy @websterss

the stray from arif's @↑

everything @frogserotonin

marker mayhem @oblivious-idiot

no one else @vi-trying-to-survive

public displays @↑

the language of longing. looks and stolen glances @fleetingvow

at times like these @teaandransacking

out the window @givemea-dam-break

patch you up @↑

you left me @↑

anthony @↑

i know it hurts @warrenposts

love me, forever, always @klineinie

dancing with our hands tied @bloodcanbehot

i wish you would @↑

you talk too much @helloooofandoms

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

tiktok trouble @ultralightpoe

do you want me to lie, sir? @simpforrooster

the princess and the hangman @↑

howdy, darlin'; part2 @↑

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

daddy would say yes @roosterforme

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

six months @grimbanes

the king @magpiencrow

bejeweled @honeyfict

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

i want you to want me; part2 @sophierequests

the one you think about as you lie awake; part2 @↑

young royals @clairecrive

stars in the night @↑

currents @lantsovsupremacist

august @↑

sick & stubborn @fleurspun

healer’s duties @↑

the art of pretension @↑

speak up @prince-septimus

SPIDER-MAN

━━ANDREW!PETER PARKER

you're not peter parker; part2 @curseofaphrodite

coffee run @↑

caviar and cigarettes @↑

MARVEL

━━DRUIG

unrequired; part2 @givemea-dam-break

MARAUDERS ERA

━━JAMES POTTER

getaway car @curseofaphrodite

mortal enemies @↑

━━SIRIUS BLACK

collide @curseofaphrodite

━━REGULUS BLACK

drunk nights; part2 @curseofaphrodite

the door @↑

words unsaid @↑

the break-in; part2 @↑

wishes and a gift @↑

of monsters and men @↑

the best man @↑

tricks and charms @↑

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

━━PRINCE CASPIAN

my prince @heliads

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

assigned seat @quin-ns

fiending for something, might just be a meaning @idcntlikedarkness

a visceral feeling, that i can never leave behind @↑

throw another stone at a glass house @↑

went out searching for an angel, then you came to me my darling @↑

━━RAFE CAMERON

whipped @mrsstarkey1

said you’re smoking less, and then you ashed it on your chest @idcntlikedarkness

this too shall pass @probably-writing-x

another? @↑

country club @a-aexotic

rafe defending pogue!reader @↑

no for one night stand @↑

i'd choose you over anyone @↑

cuddle buddies; part2 @fantasylandloser

tear-stained cheeks @sunraies

BULLET TRAIN

━━TANGERINE

safe house @quin-ns-moved

ÉLITE

━━GUZMÁN NUNIER

out of love; part2; part3; part4 @probably-writing-x

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

the way to his heart; part2 @adore-laur

little by little @↑

[croimilis]

The Arrangement

title:  the arrangement

characters:  bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x doctor!mitchell!reader (rooster calls them angel)

words: 20k +

themes: childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating (minor), fluff, , smut, mutual pinning, idiots not realising they’re in love

rating: 18+

warnings: female identifying reader and female anatomy used, mentions of parental and canon character death, panic attacks, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), rooster has a lieutenant kink, rooster in dress whites, praise kink, unprotected sex, scratching, biting, cream pie, overstimulation

summary: 'he laughed, my darling you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my soul' @atticuspoetry

You and rooster made an arrangement when you were 18 years old, that if either of you needed a date to an event and you were both single you would be each others date, you try your best to be at every celebration and ceremony for your education and respective careers. you managed to keep this up for a while, but the life of a doctor and the life of a navy aviator never seem to line up and suddenly you find yourself not only cities but countries away from one another and the arrangement falls to the background of your minds that is until you move to San Diego and Rooster finds himself calling on your arrangement one last time.

a/n:  this ended up being sooo long and i am (not) sorry about it, i got so carried away with it. also this is the dress i imagined when writing this. also, i don’t consistently refer to Rooster as Bradley or Rooster in this, it switches so often. i also apologise if the smut is bad, i don’t write it often. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT this is an 18+ piece, I will be checking blogs that interact so please have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon universe’

Rooster was sure the world stopped the minute you walked through the doors behind your father, it had been over 10 years since he had last seen you and yet he knew it was you instantly. If anybody asked, he would say it was your eyes that gave you away as being (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell. The same emerald green as your father, full of life and happiness as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at Penny across the bar, giving your soon to be step mother a wave as your father guided you through the crowd and straight towards the group of aviators that made up the dagger squadron. 

Realising your destination, Rooster's heart began to beat erratically as he stood from his bent position where he had been planning on taking his shot at the pool table, causing a confused look and a 'dude' from Hangman. Out of all the ways he had imagined and dreamed about reuniting with you, he never would have imagined it happened in Fightertown, never mind at the Hard Deck.

Yet here you are, getting closer and closer and he swears his heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest. You're beautiful, you always had been but what had once been a soft and innocent beauty when you were younger and never knew a life without Bradley had turned into sharp edges and maturity as you found what it meant to be your own person without him. He was awestruck to put it lightly as his eyes stalked you through the bar until you were standing just at the other end of the pool table, Mavericks arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as he made introductions. 

“Everybody this is my daughter, Dr (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell.” With a smile you rolled your eyes at your father's insistence on using your title, he was very proud of everything you accomplished in your life and career and while he very rarely actually used the words ‘I’m proud of you’ he always made sure to show it when he showed you off to other people. “Please call me (Y/N/N)” 

With pleasant smiles and shaking hands everyone introduced themselves, though you had heard about all of them so many times you were sure you could pick out each and everyone member of the dagger squad by name if you tried. Your eyes moved over them all the same as they introduced themselves, taking in their features and finally putting faces to names. Maverick was the absolute worst at having pictures on his phone, preferring to keep a hard copy of photos in his hanger and you were never around the hanger anymore, much to busy with your own life that you could only really talk to your father over the phone, especially considering he was usually on the other side of the country or world. But maybe now that dagger squad had become a permanent fixture at Top Gun for whenever they were needed and you had taken a job in San Diego (that Mav was still completely unaware of) you would see the old man a little more. 

Your eyes finally made their way to the other side of the pool table where the WSO Bob sat with a small smile on his face as he introduced himself, finally your eyes met with Roosters and he swears he nearly melted at the sight, at the friendliness and tenderness towards him that remained after all these years, and your smile. God your smile still made him weak at the goddamn knees and he silently curses to himself about how you still have such an effect on him and how he should be over his silly childhood crush. “Bradley”

Walking around the pool table, Rooster gladly opens his arms for you as you unwrap your father from your shoulder and meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wraps his around your shoulders, placing a kiss to your forehead as he does. It was comforting, to the both of you, it was something he always did before you grew apart, when you were still an everyday presence in each other's lives. You had missed it. It had been far too long since you had even spoken to each other, never mind seeing each other. “Hey angel.”

The familiarity of the nickname warms you from the inside, or maybe that was just the heavy radiating of Bradley as he held you in his arms. Or maybe it was the flush slowly spreading up your body and making its way to your face as you relish in how nice it feels to be held by him once again, or maybe it is because you're thinking about just how handsome Bradley had become since you last saw him. 

He had always had a bit of boyish charm about him, that cheeky smile he usually sported that was so similar to that of his fathers always drew the ladies in when he was turned their way pair that with the fact that he was always athletic and fit and you had a deadly combination that turned Rooster into quite the heart throb when he was younger. But now, you swear he's never looked better, even as he sports that ridiculous mustache he started growing when he was in college, all rugged muscles and that same charming smile alongside the new air of confidence and maturity that was unrecognizable to you.  

Never one to have a moment taken from him, the voice of Hangman forces the two of you to seperate, though you still stand close to one another. “How long you in town for?” With a gentle chuckle you cross yours arms over your chest and appraise but your father and Bradley before you answered, they both looked expectant. You had told your father you were in Fighter town for around 2 weeks but had yet to drop the bombshell that you were relocating to San Diego permanently. 

“Well I’m in Fighter town for the next 2 weeks, staying at an air bnb close to the base.” You eyed your father as he sent you a small glare, he didn’t know you were coming and so he couldn’t insist on you staying with him and Penny and that was deliberate not only did you want to surprise him but you wanted your own space, somewhere you could retreat too if need be and have some time to yourself because you were sure that every moment he could your father would be at your side to make up for not only the time he missed as an adult but the time he missed out on when you were a kid. “But after that…I am permanently relocating to San Diego.” 

You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle that tickled your throat as both Bradley and Maverick whipped their heads round to stare at you, mouths and eyes wide with shock. “(Y/N) (M/N) Florence-Mitchell!” You had to giggle at your dad’s tone as you turned to look at him with innocent eyes and a small smirk, “Yes?” Though Mav tried his hardest to look stern and serious, ready to scold you for not telling him, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you weren’t going to be so far away now. 

“What?” Now you turned to Bradley, who’s shocked expression had lessened a little but you could tell from the pinch of his brows and the down turn of his lips that he was still confused. “I wanted to surprise my dad, that was the whole purpose of this trip. Safe to say I surprised him. But I uh, I got offered head  of the ED and trauma at one of the hospitals in San Diego a few weeks back and I accepted it. Spent the last few weeks sorting out a place to live and getting ready to move, I start there in 3 weeks.” 

Strong arms wrap around you as Maverick brings you into a tight hug with a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. “That's amazing news kid.” As he lets you go, your eyes meet with Bradley’s and you smile at him, which he reciprocates before turning to Phoenix who pulls his attention away from you and back to the pool game they were playing. 

Though now he was playing much worse than he was before, he was sloppy as his eyes followed you as you flitted between the crowd of aviators getting to know everyone and he was sure Phoenix would kick his ass in the morning for making them lose against the tag-team of Hangman and Coyote but he couldn’t bring himself to care, though she wasn’t really going to catching onto the love sick look on her friends face the minute he caught sight of you. All he cared about was the fact that you were here and even when you left you would only be 30 minutes away from him and he was determined to not let you slip out of his life once again. 

------

The next time Bradley sees you is three days later, not that he’s counting or anything, and the squad are on the beach playing some dog fight football to relax after a grueling training session with Maverick. You had been at the Hard Deck with Penny and Amelia looking at some bridesmaid dresses for the pair of you to wear at the upcoming wedding of Penny and Maverick, your eyes occasionally moving from the laptop in front of you down the beach to where they were playing. You had to admit it was quite the sight and you just couldn’t help yourself from watching, I mean who could blame you.

The sight of the 12 aviators, excluding Hondo and Mav who were now sitting on the sidelines enjoying just watching their squad enjoy themselves, shirtless and sweaty would make even a nun stop and stare. But your eyes were on one particular aviator and his on you, it seemed that every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, a smirk on his face as he sends a wink your way that has you rolling your eyes everytime. 

“So… you and Rooster.” Penny’s voice pulls you away from your staring and you turn to her with a questioning look that she rolls her eyes at with a scoff. “Oh come on (Y/N), I’m not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.” 

With a gentle huff, you fold your arms and place them on the table in front of you, pushing your laptop forward slightly as you do, “There is nothing there Penny. He was my best friend for 23 years and then we drifted apart, him busy becoming one of the best naval pilots currently serving and me busy becoming the best doctor I could.” A soft hmm falls from Penny’s lips, one that perfectly conveys a very sarcastic ‘I believe you’, “Are you sure about that? You didn’t see the way his entire face lit up when he saw you in the Hard Deck the other day, I swear that boy looked like he was on cloud 9 the minute he held you in his arms,”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head at your step mother and tell her once again that there is nothing romantic about your relationship with Bradley. At least now anyway, but you would never tell her about the fact you’re pretty sure you were in love with him in college. “Bullshit.” Eyes widening in shock, you turn to Amelia with your mouth open and she at least looks a little bashful about her outburst obviously not meaning to say it out loud as her cheeks flush a little and her mouth gapes a little. 

“Sorry,” her eyes flit to her mother, expecting to be scolded but Penny is simply watching her with amusement in her eyes, “but it’s true.” Leaning forward in her chair, Amelia places her head in her palm as her eyes flit between you and the aviators on the beach. “Look, I know I’m only a teenger and I know nothing about relationship and being in love and all that adult stuff” at the words ‘adult stuff’ she uses air quotes that makes you let out a small chuckle, “but Rooster looks at you the same way Mav looks at Mom, and from the photos I’ve seen the way Goose looked at your aunt Carole.”  

Moving to look down the beach once again, you smile as you see the aviators carrying Bob about on their shoulders with a small chant of his name, Rooster is once again looking at you and this time you give him a small wave and a smile as he offers you a salute in return. Behind your back, Penny and Amelia share a knowing glance and a smile seeing how completely fucking  gone you were for Bradley Bradshaw. “Why don’t you go bring them down some bears to cool them off? Maybe you and Rooster can talk a little.” 

Though you rolled your eyes, knowing Penny was simply scheming, you did as she suggested, pilling some beer into a cooler she had on hand and carrying it down the beach to where your dad and the rest of the squad sat as they took a breather. Placing a kiss to your dad’s cheek as he turned his head towards you and greeted you with a gentle ‘hey honey’ you smile at the aviators as you set the cooler on the sand as you announce your presence to the rest of the group. “I bring gifts” 

You’re meet with a chorus of thanks and greetings, and of course a flirty remark from Hangman who got hit up the side of the head thanks to Phoenix who had planted herself next to the Texan which caused you to let out a laugh as you bent down to open up the cooler and begin handing out the cold beers, and soda for Bob. As you go to hand Rooster one he smiles at you and instead of taking the beer from you, offers his hand out, palm facing up as if asking to take your hand, “Walk with me angel?” 

You nod your head gently and place the bear back in the cooler, placing your freehand in his to allow him to guide you through the lounging aviators that were lying haphazardly across the sand. Though Rooster’s hand was sweaty, you had to admit to yourself that you enjoyed the few seconds in which your hand was clasped in his. It reminded you of simpler times, walking to school hand-in-hand as your mothers walked behind the two of you, playing with his fingers as you lay on his bed as he lamented about the most recent girl whose heart he broke by telling them he wasn’t interested, and even of less simple times where you would hold onto his hand in the hospital waiting rooms as his mom's health began to decline, and him holding yours the day you got the call that your mom had been in a major accident involving a drunk driver and he drove you all the way from Virginia to your home town, holding onto one another at the funerals of both Carole and your mother as if you were the last people you both had in the world, and in a way you were. While Maverick was very much present in your life now as an adult, growing up he was never really around throwing himself into missions and detachments to distract from the pain of losing Goose, you saw him at holidays and birthdays and got a few letters through the year if you were lucky, but you really only had your mom, your aunt Carole, and Bradley until you were an adult. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rooster’s voice cut through your thoughts and you let out a soft little ‘hmm’ as you came back to reality and looked over to him, ignoring the fact that his hand was still in yours despite it no longer needing to be, “I lost you there for a second angel, where’d you drift of to?” 

You gave him a sad smile and looked out to the ocean as you walked, “Just thinking about how the last time I held your hand was my mom’s funeral.” He let out a soft ‘oh’ and gave your hand a soft squeeze as you turned round to face him once again. “And about how much I’ve missed you B.”

You always knew you missed Bradley, he had been such a constant in your life with your mom and aunt Carole being best friends that bought houses right next to each other and were basically co-parents for the pair of you growing up and by the point you were in high school the two of you were attached at the hip, only really seen without the other when in classes you didn’t share together, hell, you even ended up at the same college as one another when the time came. 

So when you slowly faded out of each other's lives it was like you slowly lost a part of yourself, you always found yourself wanting to turn to Rooster whenever anything important happened. Like when you did your first solo surgery during your internship in Seattle, or when you meet the guy you thought you were gonna marry only for him to turn round and break your heart, though if you were being honest you weren’t as upset about that as you should have been, or even to tell him about the little things in life like the day you went to the pound with a friend and ended up coming home with a little scruff ball of a dog who turned out to be part german shepherd and grew up with the size to prove it. 

Even after 10 years, you still found yourself thinking ‘I should tell Bradley about this’ and then getting disheartened when you realise, you can’t. You had no real way of contacting him, you knew you could reach out to Maverick but that felt like crossing a line, a complete invasion of privacy, and even if you did reach out to Maverick he would only really know roughly where he was but not how to contact him,  and it broke you over and over again. But seeing him, it hit you like a ton of bricks just how much you missed him and with the way your heart twisted with the realisation you made sure to take a mental note to not let Penny know or find out because she would have the smuggest grin and ‘I told you so’ mentality about it, seeing him again truly felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to its rightful place. 

“I’ve missed you too angel.” If you thought you missed Bradley, he missed you just as much if not more and had spent so many sleepless nights searching you up on social media and google to keep up with your life and see how you were doing. When he was at basic, he tried to write letters, something that he could send you to let you know he was still thinking about you but he couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t articulate just how much he missed you without it sounding far too much like ‘I love you’ and that was not something he wanted to tell you in a letter, that was something he needed to say in person, so he sent nothing instead. 

He had saw you at your med-school graduation, smiled you and told you how proud he was of you but he never told you, he apologised for the lack of communication blaming being busy and not having a chance and you did the same, med-school had kicked your ass and meant you just did not have the time to sit down and put thought to paper, or email, to send to him. And then he got deployed and the cycle started again, he would start writing you a letter and then he would trash it because it didn’t like the way it sounded and even the ones he liked never got sent as he lost the nerve and instead stashed them in a box that now lived under his bed, and you started your internship to and communication was run into the ground. 

He was just glad you were a social media person, while he wasn’t and rarely posted on any accounts he had, he got to watch your life unfold through the screen. He watched you enter relationships which made his heart twist in pain as he thought about you being with someone that wasn’t him and then he watched those relationships end which hurt even more because he couldn’t be there to comfort like he had been when you were younger. He watched as you moved from Seattle after your internship being offered a position in one of the best trauma centres in the country where you adopted your scruff ball that had been adequately named ‘shaggy’. He watched as you posted photos of you and your dad, though his own relationship with Maverick was in the gutter, he was happy to see yours healing. Happy that you had someone when he wasn’t there. 

Now that you were back in his life, he felt like that one piece of the puzzle that had been missing since he enlisted had finally been put back into place, though he would never admit it anyone, especially Phoenix after she interrogated him about your relationship after you had left the Hard Deck that first night, he didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of known that he was in fact, in far too deep with you even after 10 years after he spent so long denying that there was anything romantic between the two of you.

Though your admissions hung heavy around you, as if waiting for one of you to reach out and grab it in an admission of blame of whose fault it was you drifted apart, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you caught each other up on the details and events in your lives for the past 10 years, neither one of you wanting to play the blame game though it was heavy on your heads because you both knew you were equally to blame. 

As you talked and caught up, you were none the wiser to the lingering gazes of the squad of aviators who sat with either a questioning look or a smug smirk on their faces (Phoenix and Hangman specifically) as one of them voiced the question to Maverick, “What’s going on with those two?”

With a shake of his head, Maverick let out a small sigh and moved his eyes away from the form of his daughter and surrogate nephew as they walked hand in hand along the shore line and to the aviators who had now downed their beers and were getting ready for another round of dogfight football without Rooster. Pushing his aviators back up his nose, Maverick laid back in his lounge chair and shrugged his shoulders, “They were attached at the hip once upon a time, they’re just catching up.” 

Though his tone was playful, there was a warning edge to it that warned the others to drop the subject because truthfully even Maverick didn’t know what was going on between the two of you. He knew you were close growing up and you grew apart as adults, something you lamented to him about as you healed your relationship with him after graduating college, but watching you two he could finally see what your mother saw every time you two were together. The undying, unbridled love in each other's eyes that you were too blinded to see, the same kind of love he saw in Carole and Gooses eyes every day. Yeah, Maverick found himself thinking, maybe your mom was right and you were gonna be Mrs.Bradshaw one day. 

---

Its 2 weeks later and you’re finally moved into your new place in San Diego, only 30 minutes away from Fightertown on a good day and 60 on a bad day, a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom (1 ensuite, 1 main), bungalow with an open plan living room and kitchen. It was a nice bungalow, sitting right beside the beach and a small garden out your front, the amount of bed rooms meant one could be converted into an office or home gym while the other can be a storage room, maybe changing into a baby room a few years down the line. And it was all yours, after years of renting, you owned your own home and you couldn't be happier. 

You had been moved in within 5 days with the help of your father and dagger squad who spent most of their evenings helping you move furniture and unpack everything after it had arrived. Though you were pretty sure they were doing it under the orders of your father, it was nice to have them around. The squad were your dad’s family, which meant by extension they were yours now and it was nice to get to know them. You grew especially close with Siren, Phoenix and Halo, the three happy to have another woman around to break up the testosterone, especially one who could handle Hangman’s ego and kept him and Rooster in line when things started to get heated between them. 

Your relationship with Rooster also got better, since that day on the beach where you seemed to walk the entire length of the beach and back as you talked, though you weren’t as close as you were when you were younger, which was physically impossible as he had training and drills every day and you were helping Penny with both wedding planning and in the Hard Deck on busy nights, you were still close. 

You were happy to find all the quirks and mannerisms you had memorised still existed, like the way his lip upturned when he was scheming or the how he fiddled with his dog tags when he was nervous or thinking (when you were young he would always fiddle with his dads), turning the metal over his fingers again and again, or how when he was lying he would scratch behind his right ear and his eyebrow would twitch slightly (honestly, it was such a small reaction that most people didn't notice it) everything about him so familiar and it was welcome because it meant he was still your Bradley even after all this time. 

Which is why when Rooster walked into your bungalow that night, pizza and beer in his hand with a certain look in his eye, you knew immediately that he wanted something. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against your kitchen sink and he placed the pizza down on your island. He was avoiding your gaze, another nervous habit when he was scared to ask something, instead looking over your kitchen as if he hadn’t been there every night for the past week. With a gentle sigh you moved forward, uncrossing your arms and putting your hands on the island so you were now leaning on it instead. 

“Spit it out Bradshaw. What do you want?” 

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rooster almost looks sheepish as he also leans on the island with his forearm against the cold granite and this only makes you raise an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner. 

“You see…” You very rarely saw Bradley struggle to ask for something, especially not from you as there was very little you would say no to him about, now he seemed nervous as if what he was asking would cause you to reach over and slap him across the face. “I, uh, I wanted to call upon our arrangement one last time.” 

Now, whatever you were expecting him to say it was certainly not that and the shock was clear on your face as you quite literally stood up straight with wide eyes and your mouth opening and closing. It had been a while since you thought about your arrangement with Bradley, years even as the last time it came into play was your med-school graduation 10 years ago, before everything fell apart. While the arrangement was something the two of you agreed upon almost 20 years earlier as freshly graduated high schoolers, you still remembered it like it was yesterday. 

---- 

It was just after your high school graduation, your mother had organised a small party with a few of your relatives that lived nearby and a few friends from outside of school but you and Bradley snuck away in his old Bronco he had gotten as soon as he got his licence (it was almost the exact same one as Gooses) and you ended up in what you had dubbed ‘your secret spot’. It was a silly name, but it was where the two of you would always go to escape when the world got a little bit too much, either together or alone. After Bradley parked near the large oak tree that took up most of the clearing, you clambered out of the car and laid down the blanket you had brought with you, popping open the champagne you had snuck off one of the tables at the party. 

Letting out a content sigh, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, your legs spreading out in front of you as you leaned back on your arms with your head thrown back to look at the stars that decorated the night sky. Your eyes traced over the shapes of the constellations, following them until an image formed in your mind of what they were meant to be. You knew them all, and their stories, that was something your mom had taught you. Bradley settled next to you, one leg propped up so he could lean his arm on it, the other pressing against yours alongside his shoulder as he leaned back on his hand, following you in looking up at the stars. 

Bradley never understood your fascination with the stars, you had explained it to him once telling him a story your mom constantly repeated to you about how you would never settle at night unless she took you out to the stars and told you their stories, it seems that even as a baby you found them calming. You told him that even if the world was in chaos and falling apart around you, the stars were always there, they were the one constant in a world where nothing else was and looking at them brought you comfort. But no matter how much you explained it, and how much he said he got it, there was always a part of him that never quite knew what you meant but that never stopped him from listening as you explained the different constellations to him, no matter how many times he had already heard the story. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle of champagne between you quietly, simply revelling in each other's company because you knew things were gonna be different come September time. Sure, you were going to the same college things were going to be different, you were hoping to join a sorority and Bradley was going to try out for the baseball team, you didn’t imagine you would have the same time for each other that you have now given you were never apart for more than an hour or two when you weren’t asleep. Eventually you moved from your sitting positions, instead opting to lie on the blanket, you with your arms on your stomach and Bradley with his arms under his head causing the muscles in his arms to flex and you cursed him for it, finding it hard not to look at him as he did. 

“I have a proposition.” Turning your head to look at Bradley with an amused smirk, you see he’s already looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile and you raise your eyebrow at him. Bradley turns on his side, using his arm to prop up his head, and you do the same giving him your full attention. 

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest.”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in your voice and lightly shoves your shoulder, just enough that you wobble but not enough that you fall over which causes you to giggle. “Come on, I’m being serious.”

Wiping the smile from your mouth, you put on a fake serious face, “Okay, okay, I’m serious.” Bradley only rolls his eyes again but he doesn’t shove you, instead his free hand starts to play with a loose strand of fabric on the blanket, his eyes casting down to avoid meeting yours as he spoke. 

“We make a promise, an agreement, that when we get to college and even after we won’t forget about one another. Like, if one of us has an event or a party, and we’re both single, we go together, if one of us has a ceremony or an award or any sort of celebration we go and support the other.” 

His eyes moved up to meet yours, having been scared you were going to tell him no. Tell him that now you were grown you wanted some independence from him, a chance to see who you were without Bradley Bradshaw attached at your hip. But you don’t, instead you reach out your hand, fingers clenched closed with your pinky extended and a small smile on your face. 

“I promise B” Bradley reaches out and intertwines your pinky fingers together. 

--- 

And that was the start of your agreement with Bradley Bradshaw that saw him as your date to your first sorority event and you as his to the college baseball formal, it’s what saw you at multiple events together throughout college and saw peoples always asking about if you were dating or not, with some of your sorority sisters commenting on the fact that you were lucky to have him. It was what saw him supporting you when you were given an award by the school for academics and you supporting him when he got MVP three years in a row with the baseball team, it was what had you in the crowd of his graduation from the naval academy and him in the crowd of your med-school graduation. But after you started to drift apart, the agreement fell apart with it and it hadn’t been brought up since. Until now that is

“The arrangement?” Bradley let out a small chuckle and stopped rubbing at his neck, instead now leaning on the island with both arms as his eyes swept across the room, determined not to meet your stare he tried to find something, anything he could focus on instead of you because he was sure he would see rejection in your eyes. Finally, his eyes settled on the photos on your fridge, one of you and your friends on your graduation day, one of you and your dad working on the F-14  he had in his bunker, one of you and Shaggy from shortly after you got him, and one of you and him at your senior year prom. 

A small huff passes your lips as you look him up and down, once again crossing your arms over your chest your, “Okay, but I need details first.” Bradley’s eyes snapped from the photos on your fridge to your face as his mouth opened in shock, he was truly expecting you to say no. To tell him to fuck off, that it was a stupid promise made when you were teenagers but here you were agreeing. 

“You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you leaned forward onto the island once again, this time folding your arms over one another, matching the way Rooster was standing, and you slid forward slightly so your face was just millimetres away from Rooster and you had to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips and imagining the way they would feel on yours. Rooster was having a similar issue, finding himself forcing his eyes to look into your eyes because he knew if he looked anywhere else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“Of course I’m serious, I did pinky promise after all and we both know those are sacred.” With a small smile you suddenly pull back, all too aware of how the heat of his breath against your skin was starting to cause a blush to spread over your cheeks. Quickly you clear your throat and reach for the pizza on the counter, lifting it as you round the island and head towards your living room. Throwing yourself onto the sofa you place the pizza box on the coffee table and reach down to pet Shaggy who is asleep in his bed at the end of the sofa, motioning to the other side of the sofa with your hand, “Now, details.” 

Lifting the beer, and a bottle opened, Bradley joins you on the sofa and hands you an open beer, while you’re sat with your back against the arm of the sofa and your legs pulled up to your chest, Bradley leans back, stretches one arm around the back cushions of the sofa and spreads his legs in front of him. Taking a deep swig of beer, he lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his face before he starts to explain. 

“An old navy buddy is getting married on Saturday and I was invited to the wedding a while back,” Okay, so far so good, you think to yourself and you let a gentle ‘hmmm’ to let Rooster know you were listening as you took a swig of your own beer, “At the time I was just a guest, but one of his groomsmen has dropped out, well he’s been kicked out but that's another story for another time, so now there’s an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen and the bridesmaids already have their dresses so it would be a complete waste of money to ask one of the bridesmaid to drop out and he doesn’t have any other close friends or family, his brother’s are already part of the grooms party” 

“B you’re rambling.” You very rarely saw Bradley rambling, only when he was really  really nervous like that time he asked Ashley Stone to be his prom date in junior year or when he confessed to his first college girlfriend. 

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he reached out to me and asked if I would be his groomsman, all the other guys are navy men, and I said yes, no problem. The thing is this all went down when I was still seeing that girl, Molly, I was telling you about and I had put down a plus one.” 

Realisation hits you and you nod your head along with what he’s saying, “So you want me to be your plus one.” His eyes, which had been staring up at your ceiling, move to your face and he nods slowly, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you that’s not all it is and you let out a small sigh and narrow your eyes at him. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” He nods solemnly and takes another swig of his beer before he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, head turned towards you with an apologetic look on his face. 

“I heard Molly was going to be there with her new man, apparently he’s a friend of the brides, and I may have said I was bringing my new girl.” You close your eyes and curse at his stupidity, taking swig of your beer as you rubbed at your temples. 

“So you want me to be your date and play pretend as your girlfriend?” It wouldn’t be the first time you had pretended to be his girlfriend, you had done it once or twice in college when he was clearly uncomfortable when someone was flirting with him to chase him off, and he had pretended to be your  boyfriend numerous times when some creeps wouldn’t take the hint that you  wasn’t interested in them, but that was short bursts. This was going to be an all day thing, and you didn’t know if your heart could take that. 

“Pretty much.” Bradley knew it was a lot to ask, it even feel outside the parameters of your agreement and he was sure you were going to turn around any second now and tell him to get lost, that you wouldn’t do it. But as you opened your eyes with a resigned sigh and looked at him, he knew you weren’t going to do that. 

“Okay Bradshaw, you got a deal. But…” You were caught off guard by Bradley reaching over and pulling you into a tight embrace, practically putting you onto his lap as he did so as he muttered thank you over and over again into your ear. You hugged him back and let out a gentle chuckle before pulling back, your hands on Bradley’s shoulders as his remained your waist where he had pulled you in. 

Your heart picked up in your chest from the contact and you felt heat rush through your body as a blush spread across your cheeks, you didn’t want to pull away any further than you already were, you actually wanted to pull him closer to you and press your lips against his. In fact every muscle in your body was screaming at you to do just that but you didn’t listen, instead letting go of his shoulder and shuffling back to your position on the sofa. 

“As I was saying, I need to know details of the wedding. Time, theme, colours, bridesmaid colours, dress code, what you’re wearing.” You ran your hand through your hair, starting to panic a little the more you thought about it, which Bradley saw. He reached a hand out and took the one carding through your hair in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it and something about the gentle intimacy of it almost stopped your breathing. 

“Stop panicking. I will text Mercury, uh, Gerard and ask him anything I don’t know and then I’ll text you. He’s asked all the groomsmen to wear their dress whites so it won’t be hard to match me. I don’t know the theme, the dress code for the reception for the women is princess? I don't actually know, and I don’t know about the colour scheme. But I will find out, I promise.” At Rooster’s words you calm a little, taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart before you nod. 

“Okay, okay.” He gives you a smile before dropping your hand and reaching over to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza lid and pulling out a slice, handing it to you with a smile, “Now let’s eat before it turns to ice.” 

--- 

Saturday rolls around quicker than you would have liked, you thought you would be over the nerves by now but as the day approached the only seemed to get worse and worse until you felt your chest constricting and your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves as you struggled to breath. Eyes squeezed tight, your hands gripped onto your island lip with such force that you knew your knuckles were turning white even without looking at them. Your thoughts were spiralling a little, little what ifs that were nothing if not intrusive thoughts like what if Bradley’s doing this to embarrass you? What if he’s doing just to make his ex jealous? What if? What if? What if? They swarmed your mind and you felt like you were beginning to drown. 

Suddenly a hand is placed on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down the skin to soothe you and another is placed on your head slowly moving through your hair and you hear voices but they feel a million miles away, distorted by your heartbeat that was thundering in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes, to see Natasha and Callie looking at you from either side with concern and you could see their mouths move but still couldn't quite make out the sound coming out. Callie removed her hand from your hair and instead used it to guide one of your own to her chest, where you could feel her taking deep long breaths and you tried your best to match the pattern. In for eight seconds, hold for six, out for eight and repeat. Your heart beat started to calm and you could start to make out what the girls at your side were saying. 

“That’s it (Y/N)....” 

“Nice and easy…”

“You’re okay…” 

The tightness in your chest slowly fades, it still lingers but it doesn’t inhibit your breathing anymore, and the rapid beating of your heart slows to a relatively normal rate. Finally, your hands release their grip on the island and you stretch your fingers open and closed to ease the ache that had settled in them. Your eyes move to Natasha, whose hand is still running up and down your arm and then to Callie who stills holds one of your hands against her chest with a small smile and look of appreciation. 

“Thank you guys.” 

They give you small nods in return, Callie lets go of your hand and instead wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into a hug while Natasha threads her fingers through your hand, “No need to thank us,” it was Natasha who spoke, “I’m just glad we arrived when we did.” 

Callie let out a soft ‘yeah’ agreeing with her girlfriend, “That looked pretty bad, you okay?” You had told the girls before about having panic attacks, you were at the Hard Deck one night, just the three of you, and some creep was not leaving you alone and you had a little freak out in the bathroom that they witnessed, but it had been a while since you had a full blown attack like the one you just experienced. You were glad the girls arrived then they did as well, you didn’t know how you were going to calm down from that one on your own and it was a gift to have them there grounding you. 

With a small nod you pull back from Callie, “Yeah, I’m good now. It’s just one bad thought spiralled into another and another and another and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.” Natasha’s hand moved from your arm to rub at your back softly, knowing your body is probably still pumping with adrenaline, to sooth you further, the looks of concern remained but their lips turned up into soft smiles. They knew you were nervous about the whole thing, having lamented to them your nerves and fears when you went out dress shopping only yesterday because Rooster didn’t give you the details you needed to find a dress sooner. 

The theme of the event was fairy tales and what can only be described as royaltycore, with the bride wearing a replica of the live action Cinderella dress and her bridesmaids baby blue and baby pink dresses obviously inspired by the dress worn by princess Aurora in sleeping beauty going by their shape (matching the wedding dress in the live action movie) and colour (an obvious nod to the changing blue and pink in the original animated feature), with a pastel colour scheme, Bradley had told you that guests would have to wear pastels that matched the table you were assigned and those wearing dresses were under orders (straight from the bride herself) to dress like the princess of their childhood dreams (and surprisingly she didn't care if you ended up looking better than her, it seems she just wanted to live out her childhood dream of living a fairy tale for just a few hours) , and the table you and Bradley would be placed at was designated the lavender table so you had to hunt for a lavender dress. 

Having found nothing in San Diego you, Natasha, and Callie all ended up driving over 2 hours to LA in the traffic and heat to try and find something you could wear. You had formal dresses, having attended many a charity gala and medical events but they were all dark navys and emerald greens, you weren’t really one for pastels and you certainly didn't have anything that made you feel like a princess, in fact most of your dresses made you feel like a display, a prize to be given to the highest bidder as you were paraded around to convince donors to up their donations with a flutter of your eyelashes and your tits pressed against their arms as you walked, so you had to go out and shop for something.

 While some of the dresses you found when in San Diego had potential, they were either the wrong shape or the wrong size (and you most definitely did not have time to have anything tailored) so you made the journey to L.A and finally found something in a small shop owned by an independent designer that had been recommended by Siren (who couldn’t join you as she was dragging a very nervous Bob to meet her family in Miami that weekend). You were lucky, it was the last of the dress in stock and it was just your size and, in Callies words, you looked like a knock-out in it. With dress in hand, the three of you made your way back to San Diego and settled in your respective homes just before midnight. 

Natasha removed her hand from your back as she felt your breathing even out completely, the tightness in your chest was now completely gone and your panic had settled though nervousness still brewed in the pit of your stomach, and she turned to Callie with a smile, “Now let’s get you all dolled up.”

That’s right, you forgot you asked them to help you get ready, well you told them you didn’t know what to do with your hair and makeup and didn’t have time to book in with anyone to get it professionally done, to which Natasha let you know that Callie is phenomenal at doing makeup making a joke that if she wasn’t a pilot she would be on a movie set somewhere doing makeup for the stars. Callie blushed at the compliment and let you know she could do yours for you, while also volunteering Natasha to do your hair because she was surprisingly good at it. And that’s why they were at your place at 8am in the morning after getting home so late at night. You were gonna have to buy them a bottle of wine or two to thank them later. 

Natasha guided you into your room, her hand in yours and placed you down in front of your vanity. It was an old thing, the one your mom used to keep in her room though she very rarely used it, but it was nice to have a piece of her. She turned you to the side, so you were facing the door into your ensuite while she positioned herself behind you and Callie positioned herself in front of you, placing her makeup bag on the vanity. You were thankful she brought it, the only makeup you had were the basics to make you look less like a zombie when out in the ED, some foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, and maybe three eyeshadow palettes none of which contained pastel colours. Under their instructions, you closed your eyes and let the girls get to work.

The ceremony was starting at 10, would be finished in 30 minutes and Rooster was coming to pick you up on his way to the reception venue, with the reception not due to start until 12, Rooster would pick up at 10.45, giving him time to get to the venue with the midday San Diego traffic.

Which was great, considering the fact that both Natasha and Callie restarted their entire process at least 3 times each drawing out the time it took for them to actually finish doing your hair and makeup, well that and the breaks you took to eat something and to sneak a drink of champagne that Callie had brought with her deciding you would need a little bit of an edge to calm your nerves before Rooster arrives. Between the stopping and restarting, your hair and makeup was finished by 10:40. 

Though you couldn’t see yourself yet, Callie had covered up the mirror halfway through because you kept trying to peek, the looks on Callie and Natasha’s face were enough to let you know you looked good. “Beautiful. Now get your ass into your dress, I can hear Rooster pulling up.”

Callie left the room, leaving Natasha to help you get into your dress. As yout stripped out of your pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of your bed, Natasha turned away towards your bedroom door and started to remove your dress from the protective covering given to you at the boutique yesterday, while you made your way to your underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy thong and a strapless bra in a matching colour out and put them on. You then turned to Natasha who had removed the dress from the hanger and was holding it folded over her arm, you let out a gentle ‘okay’ to let her know it was okay for her to turn around. 

While Natasha helped you into your dress, Callie let Rooster into your home with a smile and a bit of a questioning look as she noticed he was driving a black Bentley and not his usual bronco, “You give up the bronco?” Rooster rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold of your home with a small smile on his face. 

“Gerard insisted all the groomsmen arrive in Bentley’s, he did wanna give me a driver but I insisted on driving to get (Y/N) myself.” Callie nodded her head as they walked into the open plan living room and kitchen, leaning against the island as she eyed up Rooster. Even she had to admit that he looked good in his dress whites. 

“You clean up well Bradshaw.” 

Roosters rolled his eyes at Callie, but his lips upturned slightly at the compliment, it fed his ego a little bit, though he only really cared about what you thought he looked like. Rooster’s eyes once again found the photo of the two of you at prom and a small smile spread across his face as he remembered just how beautiful you looked that night and how that was the first time he realised that he may have had not so friendly feelings towards you. He remembered his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for your mom to go and get you from your room, how his hands felt clammy and his head began to spin as he saw you in your dress for the first time. This was no different, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs and throw itself directly into your hands, and his hands felt damp to his touch as he clasped them together in front of him to stop him fidgeting. 

Callies eyes softened as she watched one of her best friends and she smiled, it was obvious from the very first day that you were Roosters girl to the point that even Hangman was leaving you alone not wanting to incur the wrath of a love sick Rooster, but now watching him Callie could see it was so much more than just an infatuation but was pure, deep love, one not everybody got to experience and those who did were lucky too. “She’s beautiful Bradley.” 

Rooster’s eyes snapped to Callies and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he knew you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, even when you thought you looked your worst Bradley always thought you were the most ethereal being on the planet. The sound of a door opening and closing caused Bradley to look down the corridor he knew lead to your bedroom, but instead of you walking down there was Natasha with a smile on her face. 

“She’s just getting her shoes on.” Bradley nodded his head as Natasha joined Callie leaning on the island, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she turned her eyes back to Bradley. She narrowed them slightly and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him up and down. 

“This is your one shot Bradshaw, fuck this up and I will run you over with my car.” Bradley wanted to ask what she was talking about, argue that there was nothing to fuck up, you were just friends, and you were only doing this as a favour to him, but the sound of your heels coming down the hall stopped him and he turned to look at you. 

Callie wasn’t wrong, you were beautiful but you were so much more than that. You looked like an absolute goddess, your makeup made all your features pop, especially your eyes and

your hair was styled to perfection with little decorative butterflies poking out here and there to match your dress. Your dress. God, you truly looked like a fairy princess. A gorgeous lilac, floor-length gown, with butterflies decorating the skirt and collar line with pink highlights, including a pink belt around your waist. 

The world around Rooster faded away as he looked at you, it was like he had tunnel vision and everything else faded to darkness, and his heart beat so rapidly and loudly in his chest he could hear it and felt like he was underwater. Eyes moving over your form, not every discreetly, a flush rose on his cheeks and he felt his throat dry up and constrict as he tried to vocalise anything to let you know what he was thinking.

The intensity of his stare at you blushing profusely, eyes moving away from him as you ran your hand over the skirt of your dress to distract yourself from his gaze, which you could physically feel on you as if it was peeling back the layers of your skin and muscle and staring directly at your heart, which was beating so rapidly against your ribcage. You were so distracted by not looking at Bradley, you can’t see the sly smiles shared by Natasha and Callie, or the way they were eyeing the two of you just waiting for one of you to make a move. 

Taking a gulp, making his adams apple bob in his throat, Rooster clears his throat finally moving his eyes away from your form, though the blush he sports is still rapidly spreading across his face, “You look good angel.”

Mentally Rooster curses himself, was that seriously the best he could come up with? That you looked good? Did you really short-circuit his brain that badly that he couldn’t even compliment you properly? Natasha groans internally, throwing her head back in exasperation as she lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes. She knew Rooster was an idiot but this was beyond idiocy. You didn’t mind though, you gave Rooster a smile as you finally looked at him again. 

“You look good too B.” 

A smile spread across Rooster’s face as he reached out a hand for you to take, which you do with a small smile, “Your carriage awaits princess.” You roll your eyes at his extravagance, taking your clutch from Callie as Rooster escorts you to the car, which you give him a questioning look about and you laugh as he explains that he was forced too, but if he had a choice he would be driving you to the ball in his bronco. 

Natasha and Callie watch with smiles as you laugh with one another before driving off and as you do the couple turn to one another and sigh, “They are absolutely hopeless.” Callie nods along to her girlfriend's words and clicks her tongue, “Completely hopeless.” 

---

The drive to the venue doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the traffic isn’t as bad as anticipated with most people taking advantage of the beautiful morning and heading to the beach before temperatures reach their peak between mid-day and three pm. It’s a peaceful drive, mostly. 

You of course tease Bradley about his moustache and how you’re surprised Gerard didn’t make him shave the ridiculous thing off to be in the wedding party and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, letting a little “you know you love my moustache” slip past his lips. And, surprisingly, you do love his moustache, though you would never let him know that it would simply inflate his ego to the point it would match Hangmans, and you did not need a cocky Bradley in your life.

But after you actually set off, conversation dies off with the only sound being the music playing gently from the speakers. You realise, half-way through the drive, that it’s a playlist of all your favourite songs from childhood and you smile at the thought that Bradley remembered and made a playlist specifically for you, you supposed it was to try and calm the nerve raging inside of you the closer you got to the venue. 

For most of the ride, you’re sitting staring out the window with your elbow propped on the window and your head propped on a fist, just watching the world whizz by, occasionally moving your eyes to take in Bradley in his dress whites. Bradley is a handsome man, he knows he’s a handsome man and often uses that to his advantage, but in his dress whites? His dress whites take it to a whole other level and you swear he looks like Prince Charming coming to sweep Cinderella off her feet. 

You take your time to admire him, from his nearly combed and styled hair that doesn’t have a hair out of place and it certainly being held in place by a mountain of products curving down along his chiselled jawline to his plump lips that had a light sheen to him, probably just a lip balm, but they looked so kissable as you stared at them for a little bit longer than you should have, being so lost in thought that you bite down on your own lips that were painted a light pink. 

You finally move on from staring at Bradleys lips back across his jawline and down his neck, moving across his arms that looked absolutely amazing in the white overcoat until you reached his hands, which were gripping onto the steering wheel with such an intensity that his knuckles were starting to change colour and the veins in his hands bulged, causing heat to spread through your body as you thought about his hands on your body, wrapped around your throat, holding your waist, dipping lower and lower to where you wanted him the most. But before your mind wanders too far, you strip your gaze away from him and look back out the window to try and calm your now rapidly beating heart and quell the embers of burning desire. 

Your gaze isn’t unnoticed by Rooster, oh no, he doesn’t even have to look over to know your staring at him, he can feel your emerald eyes burning into his skin as it moved over his form and as he looks over and sees you biting down on your lip, he has to suppress a groan because you looked so damn good and he didn’t know how long he could control himself if you kept looking at him like that, which is why he was gripping onto the steering wheel with such force to try and ground himself and focus on anything other than your pretty pink lips and how they would feel on his own, how they would feel pressed against the skin of his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his. 

Suddenly, Rooster is shaken out of his thoughts as the venue comes into sight and he is directed by a concierge to park alongside the other groomsmens bentley’s and he quickly clears his throat before following the directions and pulling in. As he pulls the keys of the car out of the ignition, he turns to you with a smile tugging at his lips, eyes roaming over your body once again, “You ready?” 

You take a few deep breaths, in for eight, hold for six, out for eight and repeat, close your eyes and steady your heart before turning to Bradley with a tight lipped smile and a gentle nod of your head, “Yeah, let’s do this.” 

You go to open your door, but Bradley quickly slaps your hand away and you turn to him with a shocked expression. Bradley only gives you a goofy grin before he gets out of his own door, shutting it behind him, before he makes his way over to your door smiling at the other groomsmen who were gathered only a short distance away. Straightening out the collar of his jacket quickly, Bradley open’s your door for you and offers you his hand, which you roll your eyes at but gladly take, allowing him to help you out of the car.

You hear a couple of whistles as Bradley’s hands fall to your waist as you allow him to steady you, pulling you close to his chest in the process. You could hear a few voices calling out from behind you, all some variation of ‘go Bradshaw’ or ‘way to go Rooster’, which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks which actually mirrored the one on Bradley’s as he tried to let you go. You stopped him, moving your arms around his neck and pulling him down to put a kiss on his cheek. Afterall, you were supposed to be his girlfriend and with people watching, you were going to put on a show.

The blush you had seen on Bradley’s face was nothing compared to the one heating up his skin now, he looked like a tomato and he had to hide his face in your neck to avoid being seen by the other groomsmen who were whooping and hollering at the display of affection. You rolled your eyes at the antics but welcomed the display of affection from Rooster, especially as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. It was something you frequently did when you were both younger, a way for the both of you to ground one another when it was needed, and it was very much needed now as anxiety started to take root in your heart. 

A strong smack on Rooster’s shoulder prompts him to pull away from you, “Rooster man, you gonna introduce us to your girl here or are you just gonna love up on her all night?”

The small group of groomsmen (a total of 3 excluding the groom) had made their way over to you and were now leaning either against the bentley you arrived in or the one beside it with cocky smiles on their faces and their arms crossed. You had to assume the one who smacked Rooster was the groom, Gerard. 

“Uh, yeah. Gerard, this is my girl (Y/N).” Though he had pulled away from you, Bradley manoeuvred so he was now at your side with his hand around your waist. “(Y/N), this is Gerard, and the rest of the groomsmen are Sam, James, and Steve.” He motioned to each one as he introduced them and you met them all with a smile.  

James was the first of the group to speak to you directly, his eyes trailed up and down your body appreciatively and even though you know he means no harm by it you can’t help but cringe slightly at the way his eyes rake over you, there was just something wrong with the way he did it, “Damn Bradshaw. When you said your girl was a knockout you really meant it.” Finishing off his sentence with a wink in your direction, he moves back to look at Rooster who holds you just that little bit closer. 

“Yeah, I’m damn lucky to have her.” 

You look up to Bradley with a smile, only to find him already looking at you with a softness you’re not used to. One that speaks to the way lovers look at one another in the privacy of their own homes, one that you had seen before in how your friend Graham looked at his husband and how Maverick looked at Penny. Not wanting to overthink, truly not wanting to think about it all, you turn back to the group of groomsmen and clear your throat. 

“Are you all aviators?”

Steve is next to speak, “Gerard and Sam are, me and James are marines” You give a small hmm in acknowledgement before he continues on, “What about you? You in the navy?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “No, I think my dad would have actually murdered me if I even considered joining the navy. Um, my dads a pilot, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” All the men exchange wide eyed shocked looks and Sam lets out a whistle. 

“Wow, Rooster, the Captains daughter? And not just any Captain at that, Maverick? I’m surprised he hasn’t skinned you alive.” 

You roll your eyes a little at that, sure your dad was overprotective and had threatened a few of your ex boyfriends, the one person he would never threaten is Bradley, and you both knew that. “There are two people in the world my father is scared of, one was my mother when she was alive. She was small but she was mighty and quite the temper. The other is me, unfortunately for him I inherited my mothers temper and his attitude.” 

The boys around you let out a small chuckle, imagining you going in on Maverick, which you had done multiple times when he took on a dangerous mission and told you nothing about it (not even his flight details or that fact that he was flying, you really ripped into him after the uranium mission). The conversation looked like it was going to continue, until a small frazzled red head with a clipboard approached the group, the wedding planner you guessed. 

“Boys!! You are needed for photographs before the reception begins!!” You stifled a giggle as you saw them all roll their eyes at her and cast your eyes to the ground, knowing if you meet any of the groomsmens eyes you would burst out laughing. The wedding planner let out a huff as she looked at her watch and then stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was the entrance. 

“That’s our cue then.” James is the first to move off, throwing you a quick wink as he stood up straight and started heading towards the entrance alongside Steve and Sam. Gerard stayed with you and Bradley as you started moving towards the entrance yourselves, Bradley’s hand still wrapped firmly around your waist. As you walk the few metres to the entrance, Bradley and Gerard joke amongst themselves and all you can do is smile. Bradley was well and truly relaxed, you could feel it as he held you. There was no tension in his muscles, they way there usually was even if you were just hanging at the Hard Deck or at your place or at the hanger, even the micro muscles in his face seemed relaxed. 

Stopping at the entrance, Gerard motions into a girl in a beautiful light purple dress with constellations stitched into the skirt and a small silver tiara in her hair, who was standing by a table of champagne, talking to an older woman in a beautiful regency style dress that looked like it had been picked out of Bridgerton , “That’s Sarah, she’s my cousin and Sam’s girl. Let her know your Rooster’s girl and she’ll show you to your table, she’s sitting with you. That’s her mother with her, my aunt Millie, be careful she’ll talk your ear off if you let her,” the last bit is spoken in a whisper as Gerard bends down to your ear, causing you to smile. 

You nod your head and go to move in her direction, but Bradley grabs your hand and pulls you back into him, lifting your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. It was something he had done before, the night you had agreed to this whole charade, and again it took your breath away as the simple intimacy of it made your head feel light. 

“I’ll be in soon, okay?” You give him a gentle nod and a soft ‘yeah’ falls past your lips, which is enough for him to let you go. You give him a smile as you turn towards the entrance, eyes following him from your peripheral as he moves towards where the photos are being taken until he is out of your view and you look at Sarah, who has turned to look at you having heard you coming. 

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sarah.” She offers a hand out to you, which you take, and you instantly relax as you take in her gentle and welcoming smile and how something about her just eases peace, maybe it’s the constellations on her dress calming you or maybe she oozes the same energy that you found in them. 

“Hi,” You don’t expect your voice to sound as small as it does and you quickly clear your throat before you continue, “I’m (Y/N), I’m uh…” 

A look of excitement crosses across her features as she clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal, “You’re Roosters girl? The doctor?” You nod your head slowly, shock settling in as to how she knew who you were, which you apparently weren’t good at hiding, as she links arms with you and smiles widely. 

“At the rehearsal dinner the other day he could not stop talking about you! Honestly, I wish Sam talked about me as passionately as Rooster spoke about you. And, honey, the way his eyes lit up anytime someone asked about you, it’s adorable.” 

Relief washes over you, Rooster had already spoken about you. He had planted the seeds that this relationship was legit in the minds of all the people here already, that made things easier. Now you just had to act like you were desperately in love with him, which was easy considering that you were no matter how much you refused to admit it to yourself. 

Aunt Millie now turned to you with a smile and a glass of champagne, “Hello dear, I’m Mildred but you may call me Millie.” 

You gently take the glass from her with a smile, “Hello Millie, my name’s (Y/N).” Her gentle smile and warm eyes remind you of your grandmother, and of the countless old ladies who made their way into an er throughout the year as a means to battle their loneliness, Gerard had said she would talk you ear off and you would have gladly let her if it meant she was a little less lonely for the night. 

“Well my dear’s, almost all the guests are seated, shall we join them?” Sarah smiles at her mother and links her other arm through hers, keeping one linked with you, as you walk into the main reception area. Your mouth gaped open as you looked around, it was absolutely stunning. Vine wrapped stone pillars decorated with tiny lights that you were sure would look like twinkling stars once the night had hit, beautifully arranged circular tables curved in a crescent shape with a two person table at the centre reserved for the bride and groom that was decorated with beautiful white gardenias and wild flowers on top of a soft pink table cloth that resembled the colour of rose quartz,, with a lavender table either side (one for the groomsmen and their plus ones and one for the bridesmaids and their plus ones), which was followed by sky blue, then a gentle green colour, then a soft yellow, and then it repeated in reverse order (yellow,green, then blue, then lavender). 

Each table had a flower centrepiece matching the colour of the table cloth, some sprigs of lavender on the lavender tables, blue daisies at the blue tables, limelight hydrangeas at the green tables, and coreopsis at the yellow tables. In the centre of the tables was the dance floor, edges decorated with bushes, all filled with blooming flowers of varying colours (you would have to assume most of them were artificial or else the smell would be completely overpowering), and hanging above it was a gorgeous chandelier that had been threaded with the same wildflowers as the bride and grooms table. 

Behind the bride and groom's table, towards the back sat a photobooth very similar to the one found at proms and homecoming dances with a box of props at the side, that included toy swords, tiaras, and feather boas.  At the very back of the room, hidden behind the floral background of the photobooth, was a pair of white arched doors that you assumed lead to the beach, if you listened close enough you could hear the waves crashing against the shore. It was like walking into a fairy tale. 

Sarah gently guided her mother to her table and seat, it was at the blue table next to yours and she was seated with the mother and father of the groom, as well as some admirals from the navy who usually regarded you with a slight of disdain having meet you at naval event alongside your father, but now meet you with apprehensive smiles and a tilt of their glass in acknowledgment. You gave Millie a gentle goodbye and a promise that you would join her for a conversation at another time during the night. 

Sarah then guided you to your own seat, the lavender table at the right hand side of the two person table, the groom's side you were assuming, and to your seat, though you probably could have figured that out yourself as placed at it was a placard with gentle swishing writing spelling your name. Thankfully, you were sat right next to Sarah and Rooster would be sitting on your right. 

At the table were two other women already and Sarah introduced you to them as Peggy and Natasha, Steve’s fiance and James girlfriend. They’re both lovely women and conversation between the four of you flows quite easily, you discuss your respective careers, learning that Peggy actually works as a nurse in the paediatric unit of your new hospital, and Natasha teaches self defence, and Sarah is a pre-K teacher. 

Throughout your conversation you feel eyes burning into you, though not in an unsettling way, more so a questioning way as if to determine if you were who you actually were and as you move your eyes away from the group of girls around you, you find a pretty blonde staring at you from the far lavender table on the bride’s side with a little bit of sadness in her eyes. She sits next to a tall man with dark curls and a soft lilac suit that perfectly matches her dress. She’s stunning and you quirk your head to the side, curious as to why she’s staring at you but, realisting she’s been caught, she quickly looks away from you. 

You didn’t realise that everyone (minus the wedding party) were seated until the sound of the wedding march started to play from the speakers within the room and the door opens with the maid of honour and Sam making their way in first, followed by the next bridesmaid and Steve, and then the next bridesmaid and Bradley (who gives you a wink) as he enters, and then the next bridesmaid and James. All four of them make their way across the dance floor and to the couple’s table, where they separate to their respective sides with wide smiles. 

“Introducing the newly wed Mr and Mrs Alcove!” Sam's loud tenor voice booms across the room, even without a mic, and in comes the happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms. You had to admit you thought the bride was going to look ridiculous when Bradley had told you she was wearing a replica of the Cinderella dress, thinking she was going to be wearing the large iconic blue dress, but she looked absolutely stunning in the much simpler replica of the wedding dress from the live action movie. The dress was a beautiful creamy colour with a long, flowing skirt decorated with flowers, and atop the bride's head sat a gorgeous crown. She well and truly looked like a princess. 

You smile and clap with the rest of the guests, some of them whooping and hollering as the couple make their way to the table. The couple share a passionate kiss in front of the table, arms wrapping around one another as if they needed the other to breathe, before sitting down and motioning for their wedding party to do the same. The party splits to either side of the table and takes their seat and as Bradley sits beside you, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently as you turn to him with a smile that he gladly returns. 

--- 

The meal begins and conversation surges amongst the table, though it’s hushed it brings a buzz to the air and electrifies it. You're enjoying the conversation amongst your own table, Sam was telling a story about how Bradley literally tripped and broke his nose trying to impress someone while they were on deployment with each other. You, of course, laugh along to the story while Bradley leans back in his chair with a bit of a huff. 

Once again you can feel the same eyes as earlier on you and as you look up, you’re once again met by the same blonde staring at you but this time she doesn’t look away until Bradley catches her eye. You can feel him straighten beside you as he leans forward, one arm wrapping around the back of your chair as he whispers in your ear, “That’s Molly.” And with that, the staring makes sense, though you’re still unsure how she knew it was you. With Sarah, you had introduced yourself but you hadn’t so much as said a word to the other girl. 

Bradley leans back in his chair again, but keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as you lean back into the chair. 

---

After dinner and speeches, and first dances, Bradley joined the rest of the groomsmen to smoke a cigar out the front of the venue, joined by the wedding photographer who wanted to get a few more candid shots of the boys (you assumed she was still going to pose them, but in a more natural manner), leaving you at the table by yourself as Sarah had disappeared to talk to some of her relatives a few tables down and Peggy and Natasha (she insisted on you calling her Nat, but you just couldn’t having stored that nickname away for Phoenix) joined the bridal at the bridesmaids table for a conversation. Your eyes had met with Millies over the crowd, and you had every intention of going over to join the woman and converse with her, but a body landing in Sarah’s seat next to you stops you. 

You turn to look who it was, not knowing anybody but those sat at your table, and find Molly sitting next to you. She looks nervous, chewing on her lips and fiddling with the golden chain wrapped around her left wrist, as she looks around for someone. She looks for a good few seconds, making sure whoever she was looking for was not going to suddenly pop up out of nowhere and usher her away, before her eyes settled on you. 

When they do, you expect to see rage, jealousy, hate. Instead, they’re soft and kind and hold a hint of sadness in them that you recognise immediately, it's a look you’ve worn yourself. One of mourning a love lost, of grieving over a relationship you would never have, and you realise she’s mourning her relationship with Bradley. 

Molly clears her throat slightly and she releases her lips from her teeth as she speaks, “I’m…uh, I’m Molly but you probably already know that.” Her eyes shuffle away from your face in nervousness, settling instead on the sprigs of lavender in the centre of your table, “And you’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod at her question, afraid to open your mouth but still wanting to acknowledge what she was saying, and she gives a small smile. “I thought so. When we were together Rooster would talk about you, tell me stories about the two of you, you look just like he described you.” You flush slightly, heat engulfing your cheeks, you didn’t know Rooster talked about you to Molly, didn’t know he spoke to anyone about you. “You really are as beautiful as he said.” 

Molly’s eyes moved away from the lavender, landing on you and she tilted her head to the side with a small sigh. You know she isn’t here to be malicious, especially as she moves to take your hand in hers gently, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. The ex talking to the new girl? People will probably think I’m threatening you” You both let out a small chuckle at that, and you must admit she had a beautiful smile. 

“That’s not what I’m here to do, promise.” She looks around her once again, this time you’re able to gather that she’s looking for Rooster, “I just wanted to let you know how in love Rooster is with you.” You’re shocked, and she gives a small giggle at your face as your mouth opens slightly.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, I am truly happy for Rooster that he finally managed to get you to agree to date him and , but I…I thought Rooster loved me, and maybe some part of him did, but after reading the letters I knew he would never love me like he loved you…” She looks back down to the bracelet on her arm and moves her hand away from yours to play with it again, “And seeing you two together? Seeing how he looks at you like you placed each individual star in the sky, as if you were born from stardust and the cosmos itself? God….” 

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you reach an arm out to touch Mollys arm, “Wait. What letters?” Molly matches your confused look with one of her own, raising an eyebrow as she looks at you, “You haven’t seen the letters? He has a whole box of them, all addressed to you starting from when he was in basic and the most recent was one from his mission before he got called back to Top Gun.”

Your head suddenly feels too full, a million questions running through your head. He wrote you letters? All this time? Why didn’t he ever send them? What about them made Molly realise he was in love with you? Where were they now? Why did he keep them? Alongside your racing thoughts, your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest as the same tightness from this morning returned and you struggled to breath. Suddenly the sound of the party felt like it was a million miles away and it was distorted as if you were underwater, the pounding sound of your heart all you could hear, as your head started to feel dizzy and the room started to ring. 

You could vaguely feel Molly reach out to you, a look of concern on her face, and she was speaking to you but you couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It seemed she called someone because in a second Sarah was at her side, a hand on your arm, she was also talking but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You tried to relax your breathing, eight in, hold for six, eight out, a few times but it wasn’t working. As you panicked, your eyes moved from Molly and Sarah looking around the room for a way out and finally your eyes caught the edge of the arched doors leading to outside world, and you stand suddenly, knocking Sarah back slightly and mumble out, “I need…I need air,” as best you could given your inability to breath properly.  

You rush away from the table and push through the large oak doors, letting them slam behind you, though you were sure no one was able to hear over the pounding bass of the music playing. It was dark out, night having fallen about an hour earlier, with the only light coming from the small porch you were standing on. Your eyes scan around you, the beach spreads out before you with the ocean only a short bit away and in a sudden decision you strip yourself of your shoes, leaving them on the porch, and stalk towards the water, not caring and not really in a rational mind to care about your dress. 

You step into the water, walking until your ankles are fully covered and the skirt of your dress floats around you. The cold is a shock to your system and though the freezing cold would stop your panic attack you’re in too deep now for it to work, so instead you look to the sky. Lucky for you it’s a clear night and you can see some of the twinkling stars in the sky. 

The stars, the one constant in a world of chaos and if your body was anything right now it was pure chaos. Your thoughts still hadn’t subsided and your heart was still thundering, the tightness in your chest remained the same and it felt like every breath you took was like breathing in shards of glass. You focused on the stars, tracing the familiar patterns of the constellations and picturing them in your head as you go. Slowly your heartbeat starts to slow and then your breathing even outs, your thoughts are cleared as you go over the names and summaries of each constellation you find. 

Suddenly strong arms are wrapping around your waist and the scent of Bradley’s cologne fills your nostrils as he pulls you against his chest, saying nothing, just letting you ground yourself and come back down to earth.  

The silence lingers for a few moments as you gather yourself, “How’d you know I was out here?” 

Bradley chuckles slightly, arms tightening around your waist, “Sarah came out and got me, said you looked like you were having a panic attack and you ran off. Knew you would be somewhere looking at the stars.” You hum lightly in response, leaning your head back against his chest. It’s peaceful for a few seconds before you remember why you had your panic attack. Suddenly you’re pulling forward and turning towards Bradley with your arms crossed. 

“Tell me about the letters Bradley” 

Rooster curses to himself and avoids looking into your eyes, he knew he should have never left you alone. Should have known that Molly would seek you out, say something that gave away his secret. He brings his hands in front of him, wringing them together over and over again nervously. 

“I-I…” Rooster was struggling to find something to say, wanting nothing more than for a huge wave to come and knock into the two of you so he could disappear. Your gaze was piercing, eyes narrowing slightly as he took too long to reply. 

“I… I wrote them and then I meant to send them, I promise” Roosters hand carded through his hair, the effects of the products fading as he messed it up by doing so. Still he refuses to look at you, and you huff at it a little. 

“Why didn’t you?” You uncross your arms, instead bringing your arms down and playing with your fingers in nervousness. 

“Because…” Now Bradley looks in your eyes and he looks nervous, he couldn’t believe himself. Bradley flew F-18’s for a living, went into dangerous situations every day but this was the most scared he had ever been in his life. “No matter what I wrote, even if it was just about my day, about training, no matter the words, the only thing I wanted to write was I love you. I wanted to write it over and over and over again until my hands bled and that is not the confession you deserve.” 

You let out a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes, “And this is?” You didn’t want to cry, didn’t mean to, but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that it was the only outlet you had. You still had residual adrenaline in your veins from your panic earlier and you were happy, oh so happy, that Bradley was in love with you, with his confession it was like every nerve in your body lit up at once and the only way you could express it was tears. 

Bradley curses under his breath again, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears forming on your lash lines, “God no it’s not. This is not how I wanted to do this.” You let out another huff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. 

“Were you ever gonna do it or were you gonna let me go throughout the rest of my life thinking you didn’t love me back?” 

Bradley, who had dropped his hand and turned his eyes away with your huff, snaps his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t expecting that, not in 100 years did he expect you to be in love with him as well. 

“You really didn’t know?” He shakes his head, hands now reaching out to grab at yours as you step closer to him. You looked so pretty as you looked up at him through your lashes with a smile on your lips. You reached up to him, cupping his jaw gently in your hand and rubbing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek. 

“God Bradley. You wanna know why all my other relationships failed Bradley? Because I compare them all to you. No one was ever you. I have been in love with you since we were 16 and no other man or woman has ever compared to you.” 

Bradley gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and he watches your eyes looking for any hint of dishonesty. Any glimmer that you were having him on. But there's nothing but love in your eyes, and suddenly he sees what everyone else saw. Pure, unbridled love. 

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft as his hands move to hold you at your waist and you answer by pulling him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, your lips moulding together perfectly, but still filled with passion as he pulls you closer to his body. It wasn’t like the books described, no fireworks, no sparks, but rather a feeling of peace. One of home, as if your souls had been reaching out to each other your whole lives and were now touching. And though the kiss is sweet and soft and innocent, you can’t help the feeling of heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought of where this could be heading next. 

You pull back from one another, but still stay close as he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. You stand like that, simply holding each other for a few moments, until a chill settles in you and you start to shiver a little. 

Bradley gives you a small smirk, “Why don’t we head home and get warmed up? Huh?” You smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making an obvious innuendo that you were all too happy to carry out, and nod and, reluctantly, untangle yourself from Bradley, making your way to the shoreline where you notice he’s abandoned his dress shoes. You suddenly turn to him with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth. 

“Bradley! You’re dress whites!” He simply shakes his head with a smile, taking your hand in his as he puts his shoes back on, “Don’t worry about it angel. I’ll get them dry cleaned.” He places a kiss on your forehead to calm your nerves before you make your way back to the venue.  

You disappear back into the room, your heels now in your hand, and make your way over to the table where Sarah is now sat with Natasha, Peggy, and Molly, who are all looking at you with slight concern. You simply smile and lift your purse, “I’m fine, promise. But we’re,uh, we’re gonna head home” The girls smile and give you hugs as you go, with Peggy promising to stay in touch and Natasha gives you a ‘be safe’ with a wink. 

As you said goodbye to them, Bradley ordered the two of you an uber, having had a few beers and you having had a few champagnes and wine, and said goodbye to the groomsmen who are all giving him knowing looks, especially as you approach behind Bradley and place your hand on his upper forearm and rub it gently as you give your own goodbyes to the boys. 

The uber is quick in arriving and you and Bradley climb into the back seat, anxious to get back to your place (which is closer than Bradley’s who lives in Fightertown). In the back of the car, your hand finds Bradley’s thigh and you start to rub gently on it, biting down on your lip as you do. You feel Bradley tense at the touch, his eyes shifting to watch you and figure out what you’re doing and he swears to god that the you were trying to kill him with the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him like you wanted to jump his bones right here in the back of the uber. 

As your hand ghosts closer and closer to his hardening cock, Bradley has to suppress a groan, instead pretending to cough as he glares at you. You were playing a very dangerous game. He grabs at your hand as it ghosts across his cock, loose enough that you can pull away if you want but tight enough that it sends a warning. You only smile at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Everything okay, lieutenant?” 

The sound of his rank rolling off your tongue has Bradley biting back a moan as he throws his head back against the headrest, you were definitely going to be the death of him, and by the looks of it you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Instead of releasing your hand, he threads his fingers through it to stop your hand from wandering and you pout a little in your seat. 

The drive to your place was far too long for Bradley, seemingly dragging on forever despite the almost empty roads, but that might have been the frustration bubbling inside of him that only seemed to grow every time he met your lust-blown eyes. When you finally stop at your place, he rushes out a thanks as he all but tumbles out of the car, causing you to giggle, and makes his way to your side, opening your door for you with a goofy grin on his face. 

You mutter out a thanks to the driver before taking Bradleys outreached hand and climbing out yourself, you’re barely out of the car before the driver speeds off leaving you and Bradley at the bottom of the path leading to your place. Bradley can’t help himself as he cups your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, which you gladly reciprocate, moving your lips in sync as you grab at the collar of his jacket. 

You don’t wanna end the kiss, so instead you twist a little and start walking back on the path and Bradley’s hands move from your face to your waist to hold you steady and help prevent you from falling. Your back hits against the front door and you finally pull away from Bradley with laboured breaths, “I… I need to…” 

All words vanish from your mind as Bradley starts to kiss down your neck, squeezing gently where his hands meet your hips, stopping at a particular spot that has you whining in pleasure to pay extra attention to it, you could already imagine the bruise that would be there come the morning. At your little sounds, Bradley smirks against your skin and kisses back up your neck making his way to your lips once again, where he places a gentle peck. 

“What was that angel?” You roll your eyes at him playfully, turning your back to him with a smile as you start to rummage through your bag for your keys, which would be a thousand times easier if Bradley didn’t preoccupy himself with running his hands over your clothed body and placing kisses against your neck and shoulders, giving you a matching hickey on the other side. Finally, and with a fumbling hand, you find your keys and quickly unlock your door before turning to Bradley and pulling him in by his collar, dropping your purse by the door and pushing it closed with your foot. 

Bradley hums appreciatively into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist once again and pushing you against the door once again. You stay there, kissing each other slowly and passionately, as if you had all the in the world to enjoy each other. Eventually Bradley pulls away from you, laboured breaths fanning against your face as yours fanned against his and you want nothing more than to pull him forward into another kiss but you also know if you continued this here you wouldn’t make it to the bedroom. 

You placed a hand on his chest, your blown out eyes looking into his, “I want this off lieutenant.” This time Bradley let’s himself moan at how his rank rolls of your tongue and pulls away from you enough to let himself the room to unbutton his jacket, and for you to bend down and take your shoes (which you put back on waiting for the uber, not wanting to carry them) off, throwing them down beside your purse. 

After all the buttons are undone, your hands are spreading across the expanse of Bradley’s chest that was still covered by his hunder shirt until you are moving the jacket down his shoulders and off his body completely. His lips press to yours once again and you run your hand up his chest, and around his neck to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. With this kiss, Bradley pushes his tongue into your waiting mouth and plays with your own causing a small moan to resonate from your throat. 

While your hands are preoccupied, Bradleys are smoothing over your hips and running up the expanse of your rib cage to reach behind you and undo the zip on your dress, which he does quite fluidly and the bodice falls gently from your chest onto Bradleys. You pull away from him again, finger pressing against his white undershirt, “This too.” 

Bradley only smirks and gladly removes the offending item of clothing, allowing you to take a step back so that your dress would fall from your frame completely and pool at the ground which leaves you in nothing but the matching set of underwear you put on earlier. Bradley groans at the sight, his hands reaching out to paw at the skin now exposed to him. He grips at your hips tightly, fingers digging into the skin as he does, pulling you close to his body. 

“You are so goddamn perfect.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the situation, you most definitely would be from his compliment. You place a hand on Bradleys chest, pushing him slightly so he starts to walk backwards down your hall towards the bedroom, and while Bradley loved seeing you take a little bit of control he couldn’t let you have it all. So he very quickly has you pushed against the wall of the hall, right beside a photo of him and you, with his knee pressed between your thighs and he swears he can feel how wet you are through your panties and his dress trousers, causing him to groan as he kissed you once again. This time a little bit more fervently than the last. 

You happily reciprocate, mixing your tongue with his and throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. You moan gently as he knocks the knee in between your thigh against your aching core, which only encourages him to do it again only harder. This time you pull away from him with a desperate moan and he smirks at you. 

“You like that angel?” You nod your head at him as he presses against you again and this time you grind down to meet the movement, letting out a moan as you do so. The sight of you grinding down on his knee has Bradley groaning and growing even harder in his dress pants than he was before. He needed to have you and he needed to have you now. Quickly, Bradley falls to his knees in front of you, his hands making quick work of discarding your panties, and he moans at the sight of you. 

“You’re so wet angel, is all this for me?” He looks up at you through his lashes, hands now gripping onto your thighs and he looks so good between your thighs, pupils absolutely blown so that very little iris remains and a devilish smirk on his face. You can only nod at him, to which he tuts and bites gently down on your thigh causing you to whine. “Come on now angel, use your words like a good girl”

You swear you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs at his word and you bite back the whine gathering in your throat, “All for you lieutenant,” you had noticed the effect calling him by his rank had on him earlier and you were going to fully take advantage of that.

“That’s a good girl”

Suddenly Rooster licks a stripe up your slit, causing you to throw your head back with such force your picture frame shakes and let out a moan, your hand coming to tangle in Bradley’s hair as he continues to lick at your cunt. It goes at it like a man starved being presented his last meal, licking and sucking at your clit as he goes, which has you a moaning, panting mess above him, barely able to utter a coherent word other than ‘Bradley’. 

You were teetering so close to the edge now, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. Bradley removed a hand from your thigh, instead bringing it round to rub gentle circles on your clit while he pushed his tongue into your entrance, causing you to tug on his hair with such a force that Bradley moaned and that was it, the coil in your stomach snapped and suddenly you were cuming all over Bradley’s face with a choked moan of his name.

But that didn’t stop him, no Bradley continued on throwing you into overstimulation as he swapped his finger and mouth. His mouth latched onto your clit while his middle finger slide into you, you were a babbling mess of ‘too much, too much’ but Bradley wasn’t going to stop. Not when you tasted and felt so good. Slowly he entered a second finger into you and you could feel your coil tightening once again as he moved in and out of you, occasionally curling his fingers to try and find the spot. Which he quickly does, your sharp intake of break and deep moan letting him know he’s found it. 

Bradley lets go of your clit with a pop and looks up at you, slightly teary eyed at the overstimulation and with your mouth wide open as moan and moan slipped from your lips. He could have stayed like this forever, just watching you as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. He continued to abuse your g-spot, pressing against every time his finger push into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he does. God you look and feel so good that he can’t help but reach into his dress trousers to rub at his cock to get some kind of relief, because at this point he feels like he might burst. 

Bradley feels you tightening around his fingers and he presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, “You gonna cum for me again angel?” You nod your head, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure courses through you and the coil in your stomach gets tighter. This time Bradley bites at your thigh and scissors his fingers inside of you, “What I say angel? Gotta use your words?” 

You let out another strangled moan, the coil read to snap once again, “Yes lieutenant, gonna cum again.” Bradley smirks against your thigh, you can feel it against your skin as he presses another gentle kiss there, “Go ahead angel, cum for me.” 

Another strangled cry of his name falls past your lips as you cum for a second time and Bradley nearly moans at the sensation of you squeezing on his fingers and he can’t help imagine that feelings on his cock when he fucks you. Pulling his fingers from you, Bradley stands once again, smirking at your already fucked out expression, and places his fingers on your lips. Without needing instruction, you open your mouth and suck them in, swirling your tongue around them to clean them off. 

“You’re such a good girl angel.” You whimper at his words and Bradley pulls his fingers from your mouth to cup your jaw and pull you into another searing kiss as his other hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up to his waist in silent instruction, which you follow jumping to wrap both your legs around his waist, your bare cunt now rubbing against the fabric of his dress trousers and against his clothe cock hidden inside, causing a moan to fall from both your lips. 

Bradley pulls you from the wall and proceeds to move towards your bedroom, he had spent the night innocently when you first moved in earlier in the week and knew exactly where he was going, never breaking your kiss as he does. Gently, he lowers you down onto your bed before breaking your kiss to stand at the end of your bed and watch you. Your pupils are completely blown and you whine at the loss of contact, which he finds just absolutely adorable. 

“Patience angel. Now be a good girl and take your bra off for me.” You do as you're told, reaching behind you to unhook your bra and then throwing it somewhere in your bedroom, as Bradley reaches down and strips himself of his dress pants and boxers. Now, you had heard many a rumour in college about Bradley and how well endowed he was, and you were very happy to say that the rumours were true. 

As Bradley’s cock smacks against his stomach, you salivate at the sight of it. You sit up as Rooster crawls onto the bed, strong thighs in between your knees, your chest rubbing against his providing stimulation to your nipples that has you moaning which Bradley takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the sensation, one hand grabbing at his neck while the other reaches down to stroke his cock. 

You rub gently at the tip first, gathering the precum in your palm, which Bradley moans obscenely at, and then you start moving your hand up and down his length using the precum as a lubricant. You smirk into your kiss with Bradley as he continues to moan at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his length, suddenly the sensation of your nail scratching lightly at the underside of his cock has him cursing and stuttering forward. Bradley knew he wasn’t going to last long if you continued your teasing and there was no way he was going to cum unless he was wrapped in your pretty pussy. 

Suddenly Bradley grabs your hand from his length, as well as the one on his neck, and pins them above your head with one hand with a small growl that has you clenching your thighs together to get some friction despite having already came twice. 

“That's enough teasing from you angel.”

You whine lightly, and struggle against his grip, wanting to touch him, but he simply tuts at your behaviour and rubs his cock through your folds, catching your clit on the tip as he does. You moan at the sensation and let a please slip past your lips. 

“Please what baby?” 

“Ple…Please fuck…fuck me lieutenant” 

You can barely get the words out as Bradley continues rocking though your folds, hitting against your clit every time he does, but you do. Bradley smiles, leaning down to kiss you as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushing himself in. You gasp at the stretch, eyes closing and mouth falling open as you do. 

“You okay angel?” 

You nod your head, “Yes, feels s’good, keep going.”

Bradley was not one to deny you what he wanted, so slowly he kept going until he was bottomed out in you. God you felt absolutely amazing as you squeezed him trying to adjust to the size. He was definitely bigger than anything you had before, so you needed time to adjust. After a few seconds you're begging Bradley to move, you needed him to move, and so he obeys by pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in again which causes a loud, pornogaphic moan to fall from your lips. 

He does it again, and again, hitting the right spot over and over again as he did, which caused you to see stars but you still needed more. “Faster Bradley, please.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Bradley moves faster, causing a moan to fall from your lips with every movement. The pleasure was immense, you could feel every part of him inside you, every ridge and every vein pressing against your walls and you could swear his head was hitting against your cervix, and you could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten once again. 

You begin to babble out Bradley’s name as you approached another orgasm and he threads the fingers of the hand holding your arms down with one of yours, letting the other one go to come down and grab at his shoulder as he pistoned his hips into you, “I’m right here angel, you’re doing so well for me.” 

He lets out a deep moan as you squeeze down on him with the praise, pressing kisses and bites to your shoulders and collarbones, moving his way down until his lips wrapped around your nipples as a way to contain his sounds and to stop him from speaking, because if you squeezed down on him everytime he praised you there was no way he was lasting to give you another orgasm, and he was determined to give you another one. 

With a sharp snap of his hips, he finds your g-spot once again, moving on from beating your cervix, and instead beating into that spot over and over again causing loud moans and whimpers to fall from yours lips as the coil inside you tightened and tightened again and with a whimper you let Bradley know you’re gonna cum again. 

With a pop he releases your nipple and brings his free hand down to rub at your clit to bring you over the edge as he continues his abuse of you g-spot, “Come on angel, cum for me. You’ve been taking me so well.” 

With the pressure on your clit and the praise falling from Bradley’s lips you quickly fall over the edge and cum around his cock, the pressure from you squeezing him so tightly causing his hips to stutter as he reaches his own peak, filling you up with his cum. You openly moan at the sensation of him pulsing inside you, the feeling of his cum painting your walls just felt amazing to you. 

Bradley quickly presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of your sensitive hole, and runs a hand gently through your hair, your little butterflies lost somewhere in the chaos. You place a hand against his cheek and kiss him back gently, your fingers moving to push some hair off his sweaty forehead. As he pulls his lips of yours, Bradley presses his forehead against yours with a goofy smile on his face. 

“You’re amazing (Y/N), I love you” 

“I love you too Bradley” 

Bradley lifts himself off you and off the bed, to which you groan already missing his warmth, and Bradley just rolls his eyes a little as he moves towards the bathroom. “I’m only getting a washcloth to clean up with, stop being a baby.” 

You still pout at his turned back, though you are grateful he’s going to clean you up, most men didn’t but then again Bradley wasn’t most men. He’s back in seconds, a damp washcloth in hand and he’s gentle in the way he wipes you down from your neck and chest to your aching pussy where his cum is dripping out, making sure to wipe down your thighs as well before throwing the washcloth in your wash basket.

Bradley gently lifts you from the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he does, so he can pull back the blankets before he sets you back down. Though you are desperate for his touch, and he knows it, he goes over to the drawer he knows you keep your pyjamas in and pulls out and oversized shirt he gave you in college and then he goes to a drawer you had made up for him of some sweats and stuff so he could get changed at your place after training. 

Quickly, he slips the sweats on over his hips before making his way back over to you. Your eyes are slightly glazed over and they are struggling to stay open as you fight with sleep, but still you turn to him and match the small smile on his face. “Arms up”

Bradley’s voice is soft but still commanding and you do as your told, raising your arms up so he can put the oversized shirt on you. Once it’s on, he leans on the bed slightly and presses a kiss to your forehead, “You need anything angel? Water? Snacks?” 

You shake your head and move over on the bed, “Just you B”

Bradley smiles and crawls into bed next you, pulling you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulder. Your head rests on his pec while your hand reaches out to rest opposite you, just about his heart, and you follow the rhythm of beating until your eyes are closing and your drifting off to sleep.

---

You wake up to a text from an unknown number of a photo of you and Bradley wrapped up in one another in the ocean the night before, you seemed to be in the perfect position for the moon to illuminate your bodies as you kiss, “You’re souls are so deeply intertwined with one another that even the moon bends to your love xxx Molly”. 

[mmelionsblog]

No, I have a Wife. || Bradley Bradshaw

It was a typical night at Penny’s bar. The bar was packed to the brim, every single space taken up either by a pilot or regular citizens strolling in to catch a glimpse what it’s like to protect their country.

Your husband was surrounded by his friends and fellow friends of their friends, as he and Hang-man told a story about how they killed two enemies one day. You playfully roll your eyes at them across the bar, handing out your friend’s drink. “You are so in love, god I wish I had that.” ray slurred out. You giggled at her words. “Of course I am. I am Mrs. Bradshaw after all.”

You grabbed the black plate that you had your drinks on, going into the bar Penny was in working her butt off. “Alright Ms Penny I’m clocking out.” She nodded and saluted you off. She had three others working as well so it didn’t hurt for one to call off.

Walking your way towards Bradley, you see a ginger trying to flirt her way to him. All he did was give her a nasty look, then scooted closer to fanboy. As you got closer you can hear the conversation they were having. It was now Fanboy’s turn to tell the same story but with him and another buddy of his. You slowly walk behind Bradley, your hands placed onto his shoulders and slowly going down to his waist.

You let your body relax into his, leaning on him with a smile on your face facing the ginger. She had a look of annoyance. “She can do that but I can’t? What is she, your girlfriend? Just leave her for me honey you’ll be pleasured awfully a lot better than her.” She scoffed.

You did not move off of him, but his friends turned her way and Bradley turned as well so you were behind him and couldn’t even see the face she made when he told her. “No, I have a wife. This is my wife. Please go somewhere else, before I have you kicked out by harassing me and my lady by the bar owner. You wouldn’t like that now would you?” Bradley spoke, angrily and a bit annoyed.

She looked shocked, knowing that she just lost. She scoffed, walking away. You smiled with a faint blush on your cheeks. “That’s my good boy,” you turned him around to grab his cheeks and wobble his head just a tiny bit, kissing him. He smiled like a puppy.

// AN: I forgot I had this written down. Love this one for Bradley 🤭

[callsigndragon]

A little bit of courage | Bradley Bradshaw

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: all the fluffs

if you want to be tagged on everything tgm or on everthing rooster related, let me know down below in the comments! (with some love, very much appreciated! ❤️)

“Can you say that again? I want to check that I didn’t hear you wrong,” you say, feeling a ton of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. And not the good ones.

Rooster chuckles, taking one hand from the wheel to grab yours. “I said,” he kisses your knuckles and keeps looking ahead, “that I want you to meet my family.” 

“Oh, yeah. I heard you right.” 

“Are you scared?” Rooster asks, stopping the car at a red light and looking at you. 

“Scared of meeting the people you work with, and not only that but also Maverick, who is not only your boss but also the closest thing to a father you have?” You look at him with wide eyes and a trembling smile, giving away your true feelings. “How could I be scared?” 

“Honey, you know Phoenix and Hangman already.” 

“But I haven’t met all of them at the same time!” You reply, covering your face. “Okay, just tell me when, so I can get mentally prepared for it.” 

Bradley doesn’t respond for a few seconds before turning to the right and parking the car in front of a two-story light blue house. There are a few other cars and some bikes parked in the front, and you can hear animated conversation in the backyard. “...now?”

“Bradley Bradshaw, you have the worst timing in the history of timings.” You groan, looking at your brand new dress that he bought for you. “So that’s why you bought me this? So I didn’t get angry?” 

Bradley pouts, looking like a child who has lost his favorite toy. “Are you angry?” 

“I should.” You reply with a stern tone. 

“But you aren’t, right?” He leans closer to you, pecking you on the cheek. “Right?” 

“Don’t think kisses will fix this.” You scoff, grabbing your bag. 

“Well, it depends on where I kiss you. I'll show you tonight."

You feel your face burn at the teasing tone on his voice, and the silent promise of fun activities that might take place tonight. “Let’s get inside before you start something here.” 

Bradley gets out of the car, adjusting his clothes. Yellow Hawaiian shirt over a white t-shirt, and jeans. “You’re way too loud for that, baby girl.” 

“Bradley!” 

"Come on, everybody is waiting." He says, placing his hand on your lower back and leading you to the backyard.  

Bradley's family is sitting under the brown cedar outdoor pergola, talking and laughing as the day fades and the San Diego sky darkens. Phoenix and Hangman, the only two faces you can recognize, are talking with a blonde man with glasses. They seem to be sharing something from the past with the other man, because she keeps shaking her head every time Jake speaks, as if he weren't telling the story as it really was. 

There are more men and two other women, one of them seems pretty young. The blonde girl turns in your direction when he sees Bradley walking towards them, and when her face lits up, you know that she must be Amelia. Bradley talks a lot about her. 

“Roos!” 

“You need to stop growing up, look at you!” He gets closer to her, hugging her tightly and messing with her hair. 

“Hey! Don’t do that.” She whines, fixing her hair with her fingers, before turning to you. “You’re y/n! Bradley talks a lot about you.” 

Bradley’s ears turn red, and he clears his throat. “I don’t talk a lot. Just the normal amount.” 

“Puh-lease, Bradshaw. You literally spent three hours talking about how marvelous she is, how beautiful she is, how she is the most-” 

Bradley covers her mouth with his hand before she can keep embarrassing him. “It’s all lies.” 

You nod, tightening your lips in a thin line to not smile. “Sure, all lies.” 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest.” He grabs your hand and walks you up to his family. “Hey, where’s Mav?” 

“He’s with Mickey at the BBQ.” A woman with long, dark hair says, getting up from her seat. She’s Amelia’s mom, Penny. “And you, my dear, you must be the girl that has Bradley wrapped up around her finger.”

You chuckle, looking at your boyfriend. “I think it’s the other way around, ma’am.” 

You spend the next few minutes getting introduced to the other aviators and learning their names, their call signs, and the stories behind them. It feels like you're part of the family already. 

Maverick walks out of the BBQ station, Mickey close behind him, and places large amounts of meat on the dinner table set under the patio lights suspended from the big porch's ceiling. You don’t know who is behind the decoration, but they know how to create a cozy, inviting ambience. 

“Hey, Mav! Want you to meet someone.” Bradley speaks when the whole group reunites around the dinner table. 

“Oh, you’re y/n? And here I am, all greasy and sweaty.” Mav chuckles, offering you his hand. 

“That’s like your everyday outfit.” Penny chimes in, making the rest laugh. 

“Ignore my wife, please. She’s on a crusade to make me look like an idiot.” Maverick explains, rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t need any help with that, honey!” 

“I’m Pete Mitchell, but everyone calls me Maverick. Or just Mav.” He shakes your hand, chuckling at the fit of giggles around the room after her last dig against him. 

“Nice to meet you, sir.” 

The night goes on smoothly. Small conversations over the most delicious food, laughs, jokes, happy memories, and sad ones are shared... When Rooster told you about his family and how none of them were blood related to him, you were a bit skeptical about it. But seeing the way they talk and share stories, how they always have each other’s backs, how they make plans for the near future and for the distant future, knowing that no matter what life has in store for them, they will be there, makes you realize that this found family is in no way inferior to any other one. 

If any, it puts many families to shame. 

“He loves you.” Maverick says, sitting next to you once dinner is over, and everyone is scattered around the backyard, some of them even playing a game called, dogfight football. You’ve never heard of that before. 

“You think?” You ask him, playing with the edge of your dress. You haven’t said that yet. Not because you don’t feel it. You love him, and you’re sure of that. 

But somehow... it never seemed the right moment. 

“I know. I’ve known him all his life. He has it written on his forehead.” He chuckles, watching Bob fall to the ground trying to catch the ball. 

“I don’t know, Mav… We’ve been together for a while now, but… Maybe he’s not ready for a-” 

Mav raises a hand, stopping your train of thought. “He has lost every single member of his real family over the years, and for a while, he was alone. I wasn’t the godfather he needed, and I almost destroyed his career.”

“What did you do?” 

“I pulled his application from the Naval Academy,” Maverick admits, feeling horrible. 

“Oh god… Why would you do that?” 

He sighs, weighing his options. “His mother asked me to. He doesn’t know.” 

The news come as a shock. Why would he tell you this? He just met you! And now, you have that feeling of knowing a secret that you shouldn’t. 

“Mav… why are you telling me this?” You ask, wanting to know why he is trusting you with such information. 

“Because I want you to know that the other important woman in his life, his own mother, didn’t think he was prepared for being a fighter pilot.” Mav explains, watching Rooster and Hangman run around the backyard. “People have been underestimating him all his life. They thought he wasn’t prepared for the Navy, they thought he wasn’t prepared for the uranium mission…” 

“Uranium mission?” 

“That’s classified.” He grabs your hands, squeezing them a bit. “What I’m trying to tell you is that you may think that he’s not ready for a serious relationship, but he brought you here, with his family. He is ready.” 

You stop for a second, thinking about the implications of his words. He really did that. 

“He has brought you here, wanting to show you the family he has. The family that he wants you to be part of.” He insists, turning his head to look at all the members of this small but lovely family. 

“I’m not an aviator, Mav. I don’t fit in” 

Mav shakes his head. “Nobody wants you to fit. You’re different, and different doesn’t mean bad. It means that you have other specialties, and that we can learn a lot from you.” 

“I don’t have a lot to teach y’all.” You chuckle, looking at your hands. 

“I think you do. Bradley says that you encouraged him a lot on this last mission.” 

You smile, remembering Bradley sitting down on the kitchen table, looking at the report in his hands, wondering if he was able to pull it off, or if he was going to burn in. “He can do whatever he wants. He’s more capable than he thinks.” 

Maverick nods, kissing your hands before getting up. “And that’s why you’re here, love. To remind him that he can do whatever he sets his mind on. Even when the rest of the world tells him he can’t.” 

When Maverick walks away, you stay there for a while, thinking of everything he has said. Maybe he really is prepared for that serious relationship you crave. Maybe he just needs a bit of encouragement. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Bradley’s voice startles you, making him snort when you jump on the bench you have been sitting for a while. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry. I was just… thinking.” 

Bradley sits with you, removing his shirt and putting it over your shoulders. “About what?” 

“About how much I love you, how proud I am of you, and how glad I am to finally have met your family. Nat and I are going shopping together next week.” 

Rooster smirks, liking his lips, while an airy laugh leaves his body. “You realized what you’ve just said?” 

You nod, kissing the corner of his lips. “Want me to say it again?” 

He shakes his head, grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, and lifts your head so he can look you in the eyes. “I love you too, y/n.” 

He leans in, kissing you softly and lovingly, and he’s worried that you can hear his loud heartbeat. 

“So you only needed a bit of courage, huh?” You joke, placing your head on his shoulder. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nevermind.” 

Taglist:

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@xoxabs88xox

[make-me-imagine]

About Damn Time

Plot: Rooster is head over heels for Y/n, Y/n has feelings for Rooster, but is oblivious to his, and Phoenix is tired of it.

Prompt: "Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we're dating?" Requested By: @witchygagirl

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x GN!Reader *Readers call sign is Shade

Warnings: Mild cursing. Mentions of "drinks" but it's never specifically stated as alcohol.

Words: 2.5k

-

Phoenix was barely listening to what was being said as she looked over your shoulder towards the pool table. As you laughed at something Penny said when she dropped off your drinks, she saw Roosters eyes shoot over, landing on you. His lips quirked up as he watched you for a minute, before slowly taring his eyes away.

Phoenix rolled her eyes softly as she looked back at you. "Hey, Rooster's been giving you eyes for the whole night, why don't you go talk to him."

You looked over at Rooster before smiling softly and shaking your head with a soft scoff "Yeah, right."

"No, I'm serious Shade, I've never seen someone stare so much. And I know you like him, what's the harm?"

"The harm? What if you misinterpreted it, and he doesn't like me and I humiliate myself? You know Rooster, he is not shy, he is forward, if he had a thing for me he would have told me by now."

She let out a sigh as she watched you play with your straw as you glanced over at Rooster.

'Come on Rooster, look over here.' Phoenix thought desperately. If you two caught eyes in this moment maybe something would click.

When you looked back to your drink, and Rooster didn't look back, Phoenix lowered her head in disappointment. You had every right to be cautious, but damn was she getting tired of you two not sharing how you felt, when you clearly felt the same way about each other.

Looking around the bar, Phoenix's eyes caught on another man, someone she didn't not recognize, who's eyes seemed to be locked on you. Phoenix glanced back over at Rooster as an idea formed in her head. Maybe it's time someone push the pieces around a bit.

"Well, if you are so convinced Rooster isn't interested, then why aren't you in a relationship?"

You eyed her "You know it's not that easy Phoenix."

"Well, maybe if you looked around a bit more, you'd see that tall drink of water undressing you with his eyes."

She almost laughed when she saw your whole body seize up, you side-eyed her "Oh God, where?"

Nudging her head towards the guy, you nonchalantly looked over your shoulder to see a man watching you from the bar. You turned back around and shrugged a little "He's pretty handsome."

"Yeah, and clearly interested, so why don't you go say hello."

You met her gaze and she smiled bigger. You let out a soft laugh "You are such an instigator!"

"No, I'm a damn good wing woman."

"Well you clearly overestimate my confidence in going up to strangers."

Phoenix looked down at her drink before finishing it off "Uh-oh, looks like I could use another drink." She looked over at the bar with clear exaggeration "Damn, looks like Penny's busy, maybe someone should go get me another drink."

You shook your head softly with a smile "But I'm not done with mine yet."

Grabbing your drink, she poured the rest into her own glass "You are now."

You stared at her with an agape stare as you let out an incredulous laugh "You are ridiculous."

She grinned, and you looked over at the bar, seeing that Penny was too busy to see the two of you. You let out a sigh "Fine, but if this goes wrong, it's your fault."

As you began to slowly weave your way through the crowd and toward the bar, Phoenix slid from her seat and made her way toward the pool tables.

As Phoenix leaned against the table beside Rooster, he glanced over at her before looking past her, clearly for you. "Where'd Y/n get off too?"

She repressed a smile "Oh, just getting some more drinks. But-" she looked over towards the bar "They might get delayed."

Rooster frowned a bit as he followed Phoenix's line of sight. As soon as his eyes fell to you, and the guy sitting beside you, Rooster felt his chest clench. You were smiling, clearly enjoying the mans company as he talked to you. When you chuckled at something he said Rooster felt a surge of jealousy.

"Wow. If looks could kill." Phoenix muttered.

Rooster looked down at her and then back towards the pool tables "What does that mean?"

"It means you're jealous. What's the point in denying it to me Rooster? I see the way you look at Shade."

"Yeah? How do I look at 'em?"

"Like they're a rainbow in a cloudy sky."

Rooster almost laughed "I never knew you to be so poetic."

She smiled and shook her head "Just admit it Rooster, you are head over heels for them, but you are too afraid to do anything about it."

"I'm not afraid."

Then why haven't you done anything yet?"

Rooster looked back towards you and let out a sigh "Because why would they have me when they could have him?"

Phoenix rolled her eyes "Because Shade doesn't want him, they want you. They have for a long time, but both of you are too blind to see each others obvious feelings."

Rooster seemed to think over what she said before he spoke uncertainly "Y/n likes me?"

Phoenix nodded her head in an exaggerated way "Yes, a lot. And it's now or never, because if you don't do anything, you might lose the chance forever."

--- ---

As Penny set down your drinks in front of you, you glanced over at the man you had been talking too. He was clearly interested in you, and was not afraid to show it.

You kept the conversation casual, but he flirted nonstop, and you had to admit, it was a bit much. He was laying in on a bit thick, and you weren't sure you wanted this conversation to go any further.

"So, what do you say we get out of here and go somewhere more private?"

You felt your heart jump a bit. "More private like what?" You challenged, and could tell he spotted you retreating.

"Maybe go get a nice dinner, get out of this place, it's too loud, too crowded."

'Nice save' you thought as you smiled. "I'll tell you what, let me go take these drinks back over to my friend and I'll think it over."

He nodded with a grin, clearly expecting you to come back. You grabbed Phoenix's drink and made your way back to your table.

As you approached, you saw Phoenix grinning at you expectantly. "So, how'd it go? I saw a lot of smiles."

You shrugged a bit "He's a bit intense. And, he just asked me if I wanted to get out of here." You saw mild shock cross her face "To a nice restaurant to be more alone." You added on, but it was clear in your tone, you did not believe that was his intention.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Honestly, probably say no, he's not my type, not really."

Phoenix hummed "Could be a nice way to make Rooster jealous." Her eyes passed over your shoulder again as she saw Rooster sit beside the buy, appearing to order a drink, but she knew better.

You rolled our eyes softly "Yeah right, I'm sure he cares."

"Well he seemed pretty jealous when he saw you getting chatted up."

You looked over at her with clear interest "He did?"

She smiled a bit and nodded her head towards the bar again "Clearly."

You looked back over towards the bar and felt your heart jump as you saw Rooster talking to the guy, a forced smile on his face you recognized as him hiding clear annoyance. What was he doing?

---

As Rooster came and sat next to the man, he spared no time as he looked over at him and nodded his head in greeting "Hey man."

The man nodded his head in return, clearly uninterested in talking.

"I don't mean to impose, or assume, but I saw you talking to my partner, and just wanted to warn you off. Before things got out of hand."

The man stared at him for a moment "Your partner?"

Rooster nodded once and the man smiled "Didn't seem like they were taken, in fact I thought they were about to come say yes to going out to dinner with me."

Rooster looked around with mild exaggeration "Where are they then?"

The man frowned a bit and Rooster smiled "No hard feelings man, but they're a bit shy in these kinds of situations, probably just wanted to avoid an awkward conversation. I don't think they'll be coming back, and I don't think you should either."

The man was about to retaliate before he thought better of it. Tapping the bar top with his card to close out his tab, he looked back over at Rooster "You might want to tighten their leash if you're worried about someone like me."

Roosters face dropped as he stared hard at the man "Careful how you talk about them."

The man clearly regretted his comment before he quickly took his card back from Penny and began to leave. As he waded through a group of people, you almost collided with him.

He looked down at you and gave you a smile, close to a sneer "At least your boyfriend didn't leave me waiting around for you to come back."

You watched him in confusion as he brushed past you and left the bar. Looking back towards the bar, you saw Rooster quickly look away, as if attempting to act normal.

Your heart was pounding, and your face was hot as you made your way towards the bar. Sitting in the seat beside Rooster, you cleared your throat.

He looked down at you and feigned surprise as he grinned "Y/n, how are you?"

You rose one brow as you stared at him "Oh I'm just dandy. Hey, quick question, did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we're dating?"

Rooster rose his brow as if in confusion, you mocked the look, and he failed to hold back a grin. "I thought I was doing you a favor."

"Oh yeah, what favor was that?"

"Getting you out of a date with that douche bag."

"You know him?"

"Well, no, but he seemed like a asshole."

"I think that's up to me to decide, don't you? Beside's since when do you care who I date?"

Rooster looked down at his hands and then over at you, his gaze more serious now "I care since it's not me you're dating."

You felt your ears begin to burn as your stomach filled with butterflies. "What does that mean?" You asked, your voice softer.

A faint smile crossed his face for a moment "I guess Phoenix was right huh? You never noticed how I felt?" He let out a soft scoff "Jesus Y/n I'm crazy about you."

You were afraid your surprise and sudden flustered emotions were obvious as you stared at him for a moment. Looking down at your hands you cleared your throat a bit before you looked back up at him.

He smiled softly as he watched you, you had clearly gotten flustered and overwhelmed over his sudden admission. He thought it was adorable.

"I thought if you actually felt something for me you'd tell me earlier." You admitted.

His smile faded a bit "Yeah, I guess I'm usually pretty forward huh?"

You nodded softly, and he turned a bit more toward you, he moved his hand across the bar, so it was pressed against yours. You watched as he gently brushed his fingers over yours.

You met his eyes and he smiled softly "I was afraid I might scare you off if I was too forward." He leaned in a little closer, and spoke softly, so only you could hear him "But I always wanted to be around you, I even seek you out sometimes. I didn't lose my sunglasses in the hangar the other day, I just wanted to come see you 'cause I knew you were in there. We didn't get paired together for the exercises by chance, I requested we get partnered." He could see realization coming over you as your smile slowly grew. "I adore you Y/n."

Looking down as your feet out of sudden shyness, you shook your head "I should have paid more attention, but I was always trying to act normal around you." You looked up and met his eyes "I always felt nervous around you because of how I felt."

His smile grew as he squeezed your hand lightly "Are you nervous now?"

You shook your head as you let out a soft giggle "That's not the right word for what I'm feeling, no."

"What would be a better word?"

You met his eye as you thought for a moment. You shrugged a little "Happy? Surprised? Excited?" You chucked.

His grin grew "Then we're on the same page, finally."

"Finally." You repeated "I guess I should apologize to Phoenix for never believing her either. I always thought she was just trying to play match maker because she was tired of seeing me ogle over you."

He let out a laugh "You ogled over me?"

"Her words not mine." You defended with a laugh.

"That's okay, I don't mind being ogled at. I know I ogled over you my fair share."

"Okay, that might be too forward." You joked.

"Sorry, sorry."

Noticing that his hand was now fully wrapped in yours, you felt more butterflies. Meeting his eyes again, you now finally saw the look that Phoenix always said he had when he looked at you. You felt stupid for never paying more attention, for never believing her, but at least now you knew, at least now you could cherish being seen the same way you see him.

Rooster cleared his throat a little "So, you weren't, really, going to go out with that guy were you?"

You let out a soft chuckle as you shook your head "No, I wasn't."

He nodded and let out a breath "Good, good. Because he was definitely an asshole."

You lowered your head in defeat as you laughed, shaking your head. You let out a sigh "Yeah, he probably was."

Rooster grinned at you "I could show you a better time than he could anyways."

You rose one brow "Yeah? Prove it."

His grin widened as he suddenly stood, letting go of your hand, but reaching out for you to take it again "Challenge accepted."

Placing your hand in his again, he began to lead you out of the bar. You felt excitement course through you as you wondered what you just got yourself into. Rooster's idea of a date could be anything from mini-golf to sky diving. But you didn't really care, because it was him, finally.

Phoenix grinned to herself as she watched you and Rooster leave hand in hand, grins on your faces.

"Its about damn time."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal

[almostgenerallyalways]

where the wild things are (part 2)

Pt 2/?   - part 1 here Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem reader Category: angst / light smut (>18!) / eventual happiness Word count: 2,7K CW: language, grief

Two years ago, your sister’s death left a smoking crater in your life, leaving you to take care of your niece. Bradley has lived with loss his whole life, and is in a bad spot on the anniversary of his mother’s death.

Or: there is a crack in everything / that is how the light gets in

Six weeks later Bradley finds himself at Target early one Saturday morning, listlessly looking at socks (keeping on, his mom used to call this, on mornings where she’d throw open the windows to the Tierrasanta house, blasting Aerosmith or Tina Turner to silence the ghosts clinging to the walls, though he personally prefers operating on auto-pilot to think of the state he’s been in for the last few weeks), when a little girl rounds the corner of the aisle at full speed and crashes right into his left knee.

“Oh, shit!” He says, before he can think better of it, but upon impact the child has immediately started wailing so loud that she can’t possibly have heard him.

He drops his red plastic basket to the floor and kneels, helping her sit up. At first glance, there’s no sign of injury, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Hey, princess, are you okay?” he asks, quickly looking over her head for bumps. She can’t be more than four or five, but she has a set of lungs on her like a much older kid.

Bradley doesn’t know a lot about kids, but he thinks this one may be more shocked than hurt. Already the heaving sobs are slowing down, and she looks up at him with something of curiosity.

“Where are your parents?” He looks over his shoulder, down the aisle, searching for a frazzled mom or dad, or at least an employee bearing a red polo shirt. It’s before nine-thirty, early enough that the store isn’t crowded yet, and the speckled grey linoleum tiles stretch empty as far as he can see.

“Sierra!” He hears a frantic voice exclaim, before a woman appears around the corner, clearly distressed. “Sierra, what the –”

He sees you still, recognizing you at the exact moment you do him.

“Oh, shit,” He says again, and Sierra’s definitely heard him this time.

* * *

You rush over to kneel down beside the little girl before him, gathering her up: “Baby, are you okay? I’ve told you a million times not to run off like that.”

Bradley watches you run your hands over the little girl’s head, down her shoulders, and a comprehension dawns over him that makes his stomach coil.

Having established that she’s not hurt, you look over at him with wide eyes: “Bradley. I’m sorry.”

What you’re apologising for exactly, he’s not sure, but it brings him back to the morning after you met: waking up to his empty bed, and the gut-punch of disappointment it had been. It’s not like he’d never done it – quietly gathering up his clothes from the floor of some conquest’s bedroom before any further entanglement could ensue was something of a modus operandi for him, he can admit that – but that night had felt different to him, had felt real. He remembers the way your fingertips on his bare skin had brought heat to the surface, and incited a pull deep in his stomach he couldn’t quite put a name to. You’d made him laugh and you’d dulled the heavy, hollow feeling he’s gotten used to carrying everywhere, lately, the weight around his neck lessening with every kiss you’d pressed to his overheated skin.

And then he’d woken up alone.

And here’s the reason, he thinks, the sinking feeling in his gut rapidly accelerating. He gets to his feet, anger bubbling up in his chest: “What is going on here? Are you married?”

You get to your feet too, the little girl now clinging to your leg (you look beautiful, he can’t help but think: wearing leggings, a jean jacket and a faded baseball cap. No trace of the dressed-up glamour from the night you met, and all the more endearing to him for it), your eyes growing wide: “No!”  

He continues, crossing his arms: “Because I’m not that kind of guy, if you’re wi-”

You cut him off with a hand on his wrist, and he stills immediately.

Truth is, he’d hoped, and what is as dangerous as that? He’d taken you home, had been entranced by you. He’d slept with you and it had felt right, he feels fucking stupid thinking it but it had, and he’d fallen asleep tangled up in you and had felt, for some stupid reason, safe.

And then when he’d woken up, you’d disappeared.

He shrugs off your hand, straightening himself to his full height, and looks down the harshly lit aisle. “Right, I guess I’ll –”

“Bradley,” You say softly, and he looks back down. You’ve picked the little girl up off the floor, holding her on your hip now, and she looks up at him with eyes that resemble yours, and he feels his chest constrict.

You bite your lip. “I owe you an apology. But can we have this conversation somewhere other than the sock aisle?"

* * *

You commandeer a small table outside the adjacent Starbucks, which has a view over a thin stretch of arid plants interspersed with a few palm trees, immediately followed by the parking lot. Behind it, Saturday morning traffic is swelling over the Mission Valley Freeway.

Giving Sierra a book from your bag and some water, you look her over once more to make sure she’s okay. She’s been on a wild streak lately, slipping away from you when you least expect it, no matter how vigilant you are. You try hard not to consider it as another one of your failings as a parent, but it’s getting difficult.

Right now, though, she is surprisingly compliant, settling down into the metal chair with her legs crossed, already engrossed in her picture book. You suspect it has everything to do with the man currently pulling back the chair next to you.

Just a second too slow, you realise that he’s pulled the chair out for you. “Oh. Thanks.”

You sit down, and he mirrors you.

You’d forgotten how handsome he was, or really you’d tried not to think about him at all. He’s dressed differently, on a Saturday morning: shorts and a worn raglan tee, sunglasses hooked into the neckline. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, lightly bouncing the right one, and you don’t really know how to take it.

“I’m sorry I just left,” You say, not sure where to start. “I had a great night with you, and then… It was a cowardly thing to do.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “I’d like to play it cool and say it didn’t bother me. But I don’t know, I kinda thought we hit it off.”

“We did,” You sigh, glancing at Sierra. Truth is, it had scared you, how easy everything had felt with him: The conversation at the bar never running dry, the way he’d kissed you (outside, you blaming the rapidly cooling night air for the goosebumps on your skin), the way he’d whispered into your skin, in his bed, clutching your hips as he buried his face into your neck, setting every nerve in your body alight.

You’d been fooling yourself, because things weren’t easy, were they?

“This is going to sound like a huge cliché, but… I never do things like that. Anymore, at least.” You can’t meet his eye, staring instead at a crack in the pavement where dry weeds poke through, trying to grow against the odds. The previous time you’d had sex at all, you recall, was with your ex-boyfriend, who’d dumped you three weeks into grieving your sister. Who, when you’d still been reeling from it, the sound of the impact still hissing in your ears, had sent you a text: It seems like you have a lot going on right now. Maybe we should hit pause on this until you get back to Boston.

You look at him finally, cringing at yourself. “I thought I could be selfish for a night. And after you fell asleep, reality hit me and I couldn’t face trying to explain that I… can’t get involved with anyone. Maybe that’s presumptuous, or maybe I shouldn’t have gone home with you in the first place. I’m sorry.”

Bradley looks down at his well-worn pair of running shoes, not meeting your eyes. “Oh. I see.”

Maybe it’s the fact that Sierra was up half the night, and so you barely got any sleep. Maybe it’s the undeniable fact that sitting across from Bradley again has an effect on you – the way his jaw works, the subtle smell of his aftershave. That stern set of his brow, a premature groove indicating he may spend too much time wearing that expression.

The sober, aggressively sunny reality of the Mission Valley Target parking lot isn’t enough to fully dispel the pull you felt towards him.

You hesitate. Sierra is the most guarded part of your heart, but you feel you owe Bradley an explanation. Glancing over at her, you see she’s in her own little world, absorbed in her favorite book. You take a deep breath.

“Two years ago, my sister died.”

Bradley’s head shoots up, at that, and his brown eyes rest on you.

You look down, smoothing your hands over your thighs, bracing yourself because you will not cry before 10 AM. “It was stupid. She went in for routine surgery. One in a million.”

Thinking back to that phone call always pulls you back under, and you have to make an effort to keep your voice even. “I was living in Boston at the time, and the entire flight back here I…” You shake your head, ousting the memory of the worst six hours of your life, when you’d tried to bargain with a God you’d never believed in, when you hadn’t been physically confronted yet with the cold, hard reality you knew awaited you after landing. “Anyway. Sierra has been with me since.”

The man across from you nods, hands still clasped together by his knees. “I’m sorry I assumed… I just saw you, and she looks so much -”

You cut him off. “I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you. It’s hard to talk about, sometimes, and at Callie’s party…” You pause, trying to sort through your thoughts as cars slowly roll by a short distance away, looking for parking, families transferring their weekend shopping into the trunks of their cars.

“I don’t go out much, anymore. My dad’s not in great health, and my mom takes care of him, so they can’t take care of Sierra. I take on extra billing hours all the time to make ends meet. There’s a medical malpractice suit and the lawyer fees are horrendous, and it’s so painful to keep dragging it out, but I have to pursue it if I want any chance of sending Sierra to college. It’s just a lot, all the time.” You take another deep breath. “I guess I wanted to feel like my old self for a night.”

You look up, feeling your eyes tear up. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy, I just wanted to explain-”

To your surprise, he takes your hand in his. It dwarfs yours, and the feeling of his rough palm on your skin grounds you. “Hey. It’s okay.”

* * *

Hangman has been trying to reach him for two weeks, but this time, when his Bagman moniker flashes up the screen of his phone just as Bradley pulls his truck into his driveway, he picks up.

“Bradshaw.” Hangman is, of course, already coming in hot. “So you do still know how to answer the phone. What gives, man? If it wasn’t for Penny telling me you were still coming to the bar, I might’ve thought you’d burned in.”

Bradley makes a mental note to skip the Hard Deck’s tip jar, next time.

“Been busy, Bagman. I know you’re living it up there on Oahu, but some of us still have work to do.”

“Fuck you, Bradshaw,” The other man says good-naturedly. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not moping around too much.”

Bradley sighs. Since the uranium mission last year, the relationship between Hangman and him has changed, into something that may be the kind of friendship you can only have with someone who saved you and your kind-of-estranged, kind-of-uncle’s life while also still being annoying as shit. Bradley has spent over a year unlearning the decade-long honed itch to punch Hangman in the face, only to find Jake Seresin to be… a good man. A thoughtful friend. A tenacious friend who will keep calling when you’re pointedly ignoring anyone’s attempts to get in touch with you.

“How’s Vanny?” He asks, knowing Jake will tell him anyway, because he can’t not talk about his girlfriend. Meeting the younger aviator changed his friend, sanded down some of his rougher edges.

“She’s great. Getting her double stripes next week. She’s been asking about you.”

Bradley grabs his gym bag from in front of the passenger seat (he never did get any new socks), clutching the phone between his ear and shoulder as he slams the door shut. “I’m fine. Tell her that.”

He hears Hangman inhale on the other end of the line. “Fine. Okay. Where does that fall on a scale of, say, zero to going to the gym at three AM and dodging Penny’s invitations to dinner?”

Unlocking his front door, Bradley sighs again. One thing about Seresin is, he’s extremely perceptive, and once he’s zeroed in on something he will not let it go. It’s infuriating, but on some level, Bradley knows he should be thankful for it. “Let’s say a four, okay?”

Sometimes he thinks about the crash that nearly cost him an eye, and left him with the scars on his face, and wonders what his mother would’ve said, is almost glad she wasn’t around anymore to get that call (Ice got it, instead). Just last year he and Mav went down in enemy territory, and the moment he turned the yoke around he’d been sure he was signing his own death warrant, and still he couldn’t have made any other decision.

“Alright, man.” Jake knows which boundaries not to cross, as well, when to respect the territorial integrity of Bradley’s defenses. “I’ll take a four. If you feel like a change of air, you know you’re welcome in Hawaii any time, right? We’re probably getting our assignment here extended until at least the end of the year.”

“Appreciate it, Bagman.”

Goodbyes exchanged, he hangs up and steps out of his running shoes in the hall, dropping his gym bag on the floor. He stands there, for a minute, letting the cool air of the dark entryway hit his skin, a welcome contrast to the day’s accumulating heat outside, and closes his eyes.

He’d taken your hand, and you’d both sat there for a minute, the dry breeze across the parking lot carrying with it the fumes of traffic crossing the freeway, mingling with the smells of tacos and ceviche from a food truck preparing for the lunch rush, until Sierra had gotten impatient and started trying to get your attention, dropping her book to the floor.

“We should go,” You’d said, inclining your head to the girl, who’d seemed not to be holding her earlier run-in with Bradley against him, grabbing at his sleeve as he’d gotten up to retrieve the book off the ground.

Picking it up, he’d frozen.

It was a newer edition, but the design had been familiar, the cover picture immediately calling him back to his mom reading to him at night, pitching her voice low and high at intervals to emulate all manner of different monsters, Bradley exclaiming at every turn in the story as if he couldn’t recite it by heart, as if they hadn’t read this story together a million times over since Goose had been killed.

“Where the Wild Things Are”, he’d said, a little hoarsely.

“Yeah,” You’d smiled, somewhat watery still. “It’s her favorite.”

Something like resolve had settled in Bradley’s stomach, then.

Phone still in his hand, he swipes the lock screen and scrolls down from Hangman’s name to the newest entry, freshly saved under his contacts as Paloma, dove emoji, and hits call.

 .

.

.

  Authors note: soooo pt 1 of this didn’t gather much interest but I have the rest of the story loosely plotted out and i’m enjoying writing it (ask me if i’m working through my feelings re: deciding not to have kids by writing fic lol) so i will probably finish it anyway, just not sure on what timeline. anyway, comments/reblogs always appreciated <3 here’s my masterlist for other stories

[bobbyonboard]

Leavin’ On a Jet Plane [Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader]

Summary: did I pretty much just loosely follow the plot of Top Gun: Maverick? You bet I did. Or in other words--your new husband has just been called back to Top Gun for reasons unknown. Just a lil’ thing detailing those two weeks. 

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (rip to the best couple of all time, goose and carol), oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, maaaaaaaaaybe if you squint a tiny bit of breeding kink, it’s lots of build up and then just smut.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author’s Note: This is extremely self-indulgent. I haven’t posted a fic in over two years, so PLEASE be kind to me. Even though I am 27, I will cry if strangers on the internet are mean to me. Is all the info in it correct? No. Did I change a few things to make it suite my heart’s needs? Yes. Requests are always open and you can check out my masterlist here, which I’ll be updating shortly! Because there are plenty more Top Gun fics sitting in my brain lol 

also big thanks to @bradshawsbaby and @callsignbob for their fics being so amazing that it kicked my ass back into writing fics

Three weeks. 

It certainly wasn’t the longest you’d ever been apart, but still–it was three weeks. Watching your husband toss his bags in the back of his Bronco had that familiar pang pulsing in your chest, and you tried not to frown as you leaned against the doorframe. 

“Hey now, you know I hate that look,” Rooster cooed as he came back up the front steps of your small, shared home. He stayed a step or two lower than you, so the two of you were pretty much the same height, and he bumped your nose with his own. 

“It’s three weeks, baby. I’ll call you every night. Text you every second I can,” he promised, his arms moving to wrap around your waist as he pulled you up against his chest, pressing soft kisses to your jutted bottom lip in quick succession. 

Truthfully, you weren’t upset about the length. Like he said, three weeks wasn’t horrible. What really had you worried was the fact that he’d been recalled to Top Gun at all. They barely gave the pilots any information, which meant that your husband could tell you even less–and you didn’t care for it in the slightest. Going back to Top Gun could only mean one thing–something was happening and they needed the best and the brightest. 

“I know you will,” you sniffled, and you tried your best to put a smile on, if only for Rooster’s sake. “Just don’t want you forgettin’ about me while you’re gone,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood in just the slightest. 

Your smile became genuine when Bradley gave a dramatic role of his eyes and clutched at his chest playfully. “You think I’d forget about you?! About this?!,” he scoffed, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass and give it a squeeze as you squealed with laughter. “You must not know me at all, Mrs. Bradshaw.” 

Six months of marriage hadn’t changed the way that made your stomach flip–hearing yourself referred to as “Mrs. Bradshaw” had your cheeks dusting a light pink, and you bit your bottom lip lightly. 

“Alright, Lieutenant Bradshaw. You better call me, then. And you–,” you stopped briefly, swallowing a little thickly at your next words. “You better come home to your wife.” 

Rooster stiffened a bit at that, placing his hands on the sides of your face and letting his thumbs brush lightly over your cheekbones. “Hey,” he whispered, pressing your foreheads together and taking a deep breath. He’d never make a promise to you he couldn’t keep–he knew that better than anyone.

 “I will do everything I can to come home to you. Okay?”

You just nodded at his words, leaning in to give him a long, passionate kiss, your fingers tangling in his loose, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt as you kept him close. The two of you continued to kiss for a few minutes, just clinging to each other before you finally pulled away, sliding his aviators on his nose for him, the sun just coming up over the horizon. 

“You’ve got a long ride, Roos,” you murmured, giving him one more kiss before smoothing his hair back against his head. Rooster was stationed at Naval Air Station Lemoore, in Lemoore, California. It was a cute, quiet little military town, and while the two of you missed the coast something terrible, you were content with the little community you’d built for yourselves. Bradley had decided he’d enjoy the five hour drive down to North Island instead of flying (something about ‘not enjoying a plane ride when he’s not the one piloting’) so here you were, staring at his Bronco and wishing you were going to be camped out in the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, I gotta get goin’,” he whispered in return, giving you one more searing kiss before he was pulling away and giving you that signature Bradshaw grin. Before you could even properly miss him, he was in the car, turning on the engine and rolling down the window as he was backing out of the driveway. Once he was parallel with the street, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw!,” and laid on the horn, whooping and hollering. You couldn’t help but just laugh, knowing the neighbors were certainly awake now, if they weren’t already. You just blew him a kiss and watched him drive off into the sunrise, and quietly hoped these three weeks would go by quickly. 

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The first day was always the hardest. Work couldn’t even take your mind off of the fact that you’d be going home to an empty house, so you just moped around the office and immediately got into the bath the second you were home. You were thankful for a quick phone call from Rooster that night, but it was mostly drowned out by noise from The Hard Deck, and you urged him to go have fun with his friends on their first night there. They rarely got nights like those anymore, and they deserved them. 

You were at lunch the next day, casually scrolling through Instagram while you ate your sandwich, when suddenly Bradley’s picture filled the screen (it was one of him in black and white, wearing his sunglasses in bed the morning after his latest birthday) and you answered the phone call quickly.

“Hiya honey,” you beamed, cradling the phone to your ear as you took another bite of your sandwich. “How’s your first day?”.

“Baby, why don’t you come down here, huh?,” Rooster practically cut you off, voice sounded just slightly strained and in a hushed tone. “God, it’s beautiful in San Diego. You love it here–it’s only three weeks. I’ll get ya a hotel room and you can make it a vacation. Whatdya say?,” he asked, and for some reason, it felt more like he was begging you to come and stay with him, versus suggesting a fun little trip. 

“Bradley, what’s wrong?,” you asked automatically, sitting up straighter in your chair. 

“Nothin’!,” he almost squeaked out, and he could tell by your silence that you didn’t believe that for a single second. 

He was quiet for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only half a minute. He cleared his throat, and you thought you even heard a soft sniffle. 

“It’s Maverick,” he whispered, taking a deep breath. “He’s the instructor.”

Your heart immediately sank into your stomach, and you clung even tighter to your phone. You knew exactly what that meant. You’d never met Captain Mitchell yourself, only heard the stories from Bradley. The story of him pulling his papers. The story of how his father had been in the plane with the other pilot when he died. The only version you’d ever seen of your husband and Maverick’s relationship had been a non-existent one. The two had successfully avoided each other for years–now only to be forced to not only work together, but for Rooster to learn from him. 

“Oh, honey,” you whispered, running your hands through your hair and sighing softly. There was nothing Bradley could do. This was Top Gun, and it was the military. They didn’t just let you go somewhere else because you didn’t like your teacher. 

“I can’t do it–I can’t do it alone, Y/N,” he whispered into the phone, hands trembling slightly as he gripped it tightly in his hand, bent over in the chair he was currently sitting in. 

“It’s three weeks, baby. I can’t just take off work. They’d–”

“Please.”

Your mind was made up before he even finished the word. 

“Alright. I’ll go talk to Craig about seeing if I can work remotely the next few weeks, okay?,” you told him softly, wishing you could reach through the phone to hold him gently. “I’ll let you know when my flight lands. I love you,” you whispered. 

“Thank you,” he sobbed softly, and a beep let you know the phone call had ended. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first flight that didn’t cost you an arm and a leg left the next morning at ten-thirty, and you were looking out the window at the approaching ocean with a mixture of emotions bubbling in your chest. While it had only been two days, you were already excited to see Bradley. His goofy grin, his strong arms. But you know a lot of this trip was going to be navigating the treacherous waters of the past, and you had forgotten your life vest back on shore. The two of you never did dig too deep into the passing of Rooster’s father, and certainly not the loss of having Maverick in his life. That topped with the loss of his mother as well, you knew the next few weeks would certainly be emotional. 

But for now, you were just thankful to have an understanding boss that allowed you to work remotely for the next few weeks (you might have added in a few tears and used the ol’ military wife card). The plane jolted to a stop once it hit the runway, and you made your way out of there as quickly as possible. 

You grabbed your bags from baggage claim and walked outside, sliding on your sunglasses and trying to look at the row of cars in search of a free taxi. Bradley was due to be at Top Gun all day, so you were just going to go to your hotel and check in, check a few emails, and then hopefully get to have dinner with your loving husband that night. But right as you were turning towards the row of taxis, you spotted a familiar looking Bronco, with a familiar looking man in a jumpsuit sitting on the hood. 

“Two days, and you already don’t recognize your husband?,” Rooster shouted as he jumped down, running over and picking you up in his arms and spinning you around as you squealed. 

“What are you doing here?! Shouldn’t you be in class?!,” you asked him, adoring every kiss he placed all over your face before he finally settled on your lips with a soft hum, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts as he pulled you closer. 

“Lunch,” was all he mumbled, fingers sliding up into your hair and keeping the two of you pressed together until you were both gasping for breath. 

“Thank you,” Rooster whispered, and you didn’t need to hear those words, but appreciated them nonetheless. He never asked you for a thing–Bradley Bradshaw did everything in the world for you and never once expected anything in return. So when he asked you for something this one time? You would have dropped the world for him. 

“Of course, baby,” you murmured in return, stroking his cheek lightly and giving him one more kiss. “Now, you drop me off at the hotel and I’ll be waiting for you tonight when you’re done. Deal?,” you grinned with a wiggle of your eyebrows, wanting to see that smile again. 

It did the trick. Rooster let out a loud laugh, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist as he led you to the car. 

“Yes ma’am!”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next two weeks went by fairly quickly. You spent every moment you could with Rooster, listening to him rant about a particularly tough day, drinking at The Hard Deck with his fellow aviators, or just holding him in the wee hours of the morning while he slept with pitiful whimpers of his father and mother’s names on his lips. 

Then one night, Bradley came home with a sad smile on his lips, and you knew that they’d been given final confirmation of their mission. 

“We leave in the morning, 0500,” he murmured against your skin that night, fingertips lazily drawing circles on the small of your back. 

You attempted to not to act as petulant as you felt, just nodding and biting at your bottom lip, trying not to cry. You understood Bradley’s job the moment you met him. He was a pilot, and sometimes he went on missions, but most of his job was relatively fine. This wasn’t World War II. He wasn’t running off to a far away land knowing he’d never come home. We weren’t even at war with anyone, for Christ’s sake. At least, that’s what you had told yourself to make it all easier. 

But instead, you found yourself having to accept the fact that this might very well be the last time you ever see the love of your life, and before you could even try to keep it together, you were burying your face in Bradley’s chest and sobbing. 

“I know, darlin’. I know,” was all he whispered, hands rubbing slowly along your spine as he just hummed softly under his breath, trying his best to comfort the both of you. But his words felt like white noise in your ears, just a dull roaring that seemed to drown everything out as you found yourself staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand that was blinking red every few moments. 

You had managed to calm down, and husband and wife lay in silence for a few minutes, the heaviness that filled the air laid across the two of them like a weighted blanket. 

“I was supposed to be the one taking care of you down here,” you sniffled, a tiny smile on your lips as you turned to look up at Rooster, your chin resting on his sternum. 

His pearly whites peeked out from under his mustache, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“You always do.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four in the morning was there before you knew it, and it seemed that Rooster couldn’t sleep either. He was already up and in the process of getting dressed when the alarm went off, soft music playing from the shitty radio/alarm clock on the nightstand. You recognized the tune quickly as Leavin’ On a Jet Plane by Peter, Paul, and Mary. What a sick joke.

You sat up in bed and rubbed at your red, tired eyes, feeling smaller than you ever had. It was as if the room suddenly felt five times bigger, and the mattress was going to swallow you up. 

“When will–When will I know you’re back?,” you  whispered, voice thick with both emotion and sleep. 

Bradley sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and letting it lazily twirl around his finger. “It’s not supposed to be any longer than ninety-six hours, there and back. We’re in, we’re out,” he murmured, hating that that was the only information he could give you. You just nodded in understanding, moving to crawl into his lap, arms draping around his neck as you clung to him. 

“You come home to me, do you understand?,” you whispered, fingers clutching the material of his shirt. “Because if you don’t, Rooster, I swear to God, I’m going to go to whatever fucking country you’re in, and bring your ass back myself,” you added, and you could feel your love smiling against you neck. 

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he whispered in return, and suddenly you felt something drip onto your shoulder, and felt Rooster’s chest tremble a bit before he pulled back. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay,” he added, leaning in to give you a loving, passionate kiss, one that reminded you of the early days of your relationship, when he’d kiss you good night like he was afraid in the morning, he would have only dreamt you. 

You finally pulled away, wiping away his tears as he wiped away your own, and you moved to sit down on the bed, arms wrapping around yourself as he got up and grabbed his bag. 

“I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he said once more. You blinked, and he was gone. 

The sob that ripped through your lips was loud enough to echo into the hall, and it would stay with Bradley Bradshaw forever. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Towards the end of the fourth day, you were sitting at the bar of The Hard Deck, miserably staring out at the ocean and lazily sipping at your Diet Coke, not even bothering to take the straw out of your mouth between sips. 

“Y/N,” Penny said gently as she walked over, leaning over and letting her elbows rest on the wood. “They’ll be home soon. Believe me, if something was wrong they would have–,” she stopped herself, sometimes forgetting that being familiar with the Navy for her whole life could make her a little jaded to situations. 

“They would have already sent someone to tell me he’s dead. Yeah. I know,” you shot back, and the instant the words left your lips, you winced at your tone. You just turned and reached out your hand, taking hers and giving it a soft squeeze. “Sorry,” you whispered, a tight smile stretched across your lips. 

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for,” she assured you, squeezing your hand in return. “It’s tough. It never gets any easier.” 

The two of you managed to get your minds off of your boys for another hour or so, Penny telling you about how she was going to take Amelia out on a boat ride once she got out of school, before you decided you’d at least try and get some rest back in your hotel room. You had just parked Rooster’s Bronco in a space outside of your hotel when a Naval Alert popped up on your phone: 

USS LANGLEY ARRIVAL TIME: 1600

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking GOD,” you gasped, immediately turning the car back on and practically flying down the Coronado Bridge and making your way to North Island. There was already a small crowd of family and friends standing around, and it was moments like this you were reminded that it wasn’t just Rooster and the pilots that were gone. It was an entire ship full of people whose families were waiting for them. 

You nervously paced around for awhile, making small talk with some other wives around you, before someone started shouting they could see the ship. It was then that everyone’s voices started to get a bit louder, and there was an energy surrounding everyone that had your heart pounding in your chest. 

What felt like three hours later, there was a chorus of cheers when the first group of men and women came off of the aircraft carrier. You could barely see over the group in front of you, and you decided to climb up one of the small fences, holding on tight and straining your eyes as you searched each and every face. 

“Mrs. Bradshaw!,” a voice boomed from about thirty feet in front of you. “Get your ass down from there and come kiss your husband!”

“Bradley!,” you practically screamed, jumping down and sprinting through the throngs of people before you slammed against Rooster’s chest, lunging up and kissing him roughly. 

“You’re okay,” you whispered, kissing him over and over, tasting the salt from the ocean on his skin. 

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, baby,” he breathed out, as if he’d been holding his breath ever since the morning he left you. 

“God, I fucking missed you,” you agreed, finally opening your eyes to see his face covered in scrapes that looked as if they were beginning to scab over. 

“What–?”

“Hey,” he stopped you quickly, taking both of your hands in his and kissing your knuckles lovingly. “It’s okay. I’m fine. They’re just some scratches,” he assured you, leaning in for one more kiss before he was pulling back and looking around. 

“Wait here,” he said suddenly, taking off towards his left, and you simply just blinked. Because you just knew your husband hadn’t run off only minutes after being reunited with the love of his life–right? 

“Honey,” you heard his voice from over your shoulder, and you turned around only to be face to face with none other than Captain Pete Mitchell. 

“Mav, this is my wife, Y/N. Y/N this is Maverick–he saved my life up there,” Rooster said proudly, and you felt a wave of emotion crash over you. 

“Pete Mitchell, ma’am. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Maverick stuck out his hand, and instead of returning his hand shake, you threw your arms around him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and after a few moments, you felt his arms tighten around your middle. 

“There’s no need. In fact, don’t let him give me all the credit. Your husband saved my ass out there a couple of times. I wouldn’t have made it home without him,” he said firmly as you pulled back, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly at the wonderful man you married. 

“Of course he did. That’s Rooster,” you grinned, reaching out to take his hand, and your lover just kissed the back of your hand. You turned back to look at Maverick, and you caught the tail end of a smile he was giving Rooster, one that mirrored the image of a proud father. 

“I’ll let you kids go. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he laughed softly, clapping Rooster on the shoulder. “I’ll see you before you go, yeah?”.

“You will,” you interjected, your arm wrapped around Rooster’s waist and giving it a soft squeeze. “We’ll go out for dinner tomorrow, how’s that sound?”. 

Plans were quickly made, and you even managed to exchange numbers with Maverick before you and Bradley were in his Bronco, tearing back off towards town and your hotel. You didn’t think you’d ever run so fast into a hotel lobby, but before you could even catch your breath, Rooster was kissing your neck in the elevator, one hand sliding down the front of your shorts, and the other moving up your t-shirt and squeezing your right breast. 

“Bradley!,” you squealed, but a moan quickly left your lips when his thumb brushed over your nipple at the same time the pad of his middle finger rubbed lightly at your clit. “Someone could see.” 

“Let ‘em,” he growled, working on leaving a mark under your left earlobe as he lazily began to grind against your hip. “This whole hotel’s gonna know how much Bradley Bradshaw missed his wife.”

The automated voice in the elevator announced your floor just as the doors opened, and the two of you managed to stumble your way into the hotel room. Shirts and pants were being flung in all directions, and you think your panties might have landed somewhere in the kitchenette, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Because at that moment, the love of your life was kissing down your body, placing your thighs on his shoulders and diving straight into your slick cunt. 

“Fuck!,” you cried out, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you began to grind down against his mouth, every nerve ending in your body on fire. Rooster’s tongue was sliding expertly between your folds, licking up every bit of wetness before he would suck quickly and harshly at your clit, switching back and forth until you were a panting, gasping mess for him. 

“Bradley,” you whined, hips rolling constantly, trying to draw yourself closer and closer to the edge. 

“That’s it, baby,” he purred, biting softly at your inner thigh before he immediately slid two fingers inside of you, causing you to swear loudly. “Want you to come for me, honey. Want you to come on my fingers before I put my cock in you. Can you do that for me? Can you come for me, princess?”

He had barely finished his last sentence, fingers drilling against your sweet spot, before you were screaming his name and clamping down around his thick digits. Your body shook with each pulse of your orgasm, hips continuing to roll as you rode out your high, your free hand lazily rubbing at your breasts while you enjoyed your euphoric experience. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, peppering your hips and lower stomach with light kisses before he pulled his fingers out slowly, crawling back up your body. He kept one of your legs up by his shoulder, and he stroked himself twice before sliding his achingly hard cock into your soaked pussy, groaning once he was fully seated inside of you. 

One heel was digging into the small of Bradley’s back, the other into his shoulder as he practically split you in two, your sensitive cunt almost pulling him deeper inside of you. His hips began to piston against yours quickly, and you could tell that he wouldn’t last long. He’d been waiting for this. Waiting for you. 

“I fucking love you,” he panted, your foreheads pressed together and lips barely touching. “I love you so much. Thought about you every day. Wanted to be back with you, to be back in this pretty pussy.”

As he spoke, his hand slid down once again to start rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, and you squirmed under his touch immediately. 

“Missed you,” you whimpered out, and at your words, Bradley was connecting your lips once more, kissing you with every ounce of love and affection he had flowing through his veins for you. 

As the minutes passed, your pleasure grew and grew, until you were teetering on the edge of another orgasm, feeling your skin practically sizzle with every bead of sweat that dropped onto your skin from your husband. 

“B-Bradley,” you gasped out, trying to hold out just a little bit longer. 

“I know, honey. I’m close, too. You gonna come again for me? Gonna let me fill you up? Give you everything I’ve got?,” he practically growled, and you just nodded your head furiously, your hands settled on the back of his neck, keeping him close. 

“Use your words for me, princess. Tell me you’re close. Tell me you’re gonna come on my cock,” he demanded, hips faltering just slightly as he neared his own orgasm. 

“M’gonna come, baby. Gonna–,” you stopped, a mewl ripped from your lips as that wave of pleasure crashed over you once again, and you were clamping around his cock like a vice. 

“Oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck–,” he gasped, and within a handful of thrusts, he was spilling inside of you, leaning down to kiss you messily through your shared orgasms, his hips slowing to a stop and he just stayed inside of you for a moment, the two of you attempting to catch your breath. 

“You really did miss me,” you teased after a few minutes of the two of you just lazily kissing, and Rooster chuckled softly, nuzzling your noses together. 

Within minutes, the two of you were cleaned up and back in bed, your naked bodies tangled together under the sheets and you let your fingers dance lightly over his scrapes, pressing a feather-light kiss to each one once you inspected it. You noticed that Rooster was struggling to keep his eyes open, and so you pressed a final kiss to his lips, brushing his sweat-matted hair off of his forehead. 

“Get some rest, Lieutenant Bradshaw. You’ve earned it,” you whispered, laying down with your head on his chest, letting his heartbeat remind you he was home. He was alive. He was okay. 

“Thank you,” was all he said, and you found it funny how two little words could be worth more than an epistle about his love for you, how thankful he was for you, how he’d never be able to repay you for the past two weeks. 

“Anything for you, you big stud,” you teased, closing your eyes and feeling him giving you a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll keep ya to that in the mornin’,” he yawned, and within seconds his familiar snores filled the small bedroom, and you fell asleep with a smile on your lips.

[justabigassnerd]

You Are Still My World

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 3,310

Warnings - feelings of abandonment, mentions of Carole & Goose, mentions of death, angst

Summary - 17 years after Bradley took off after your dad pulled his papers, he waltzes right back into your life like nothing ever happened

A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's been a minute since I last uploaded a fic, I was in a slump and y'all's lovely comments managed to bring me out of it. this was an anon request that I hope I did justice because the idea was so cool. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

As you grew up, the adults that surrounded you always joked that you and Bradley Bradshaw were joined at the hip. Where one of you was, the other would not be far behind. You were the best of friends and you adored Bradley. He was a couple of years older than you but didn’t let it bother him even when people teased him for hanging out with someone who wasn’t in his grade at school and he always bit back, defending you wholeheartedly. Bradley was such a staple in your life that you couldn’t imagine life without him.

Until one day, everything changed.

Your dad, Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick, pulled Bradley’s papers to the naval academy. You had no idea that he did it until a year after Bradley stopped talking to you. You had seen him on your way to school and waved at him but he just rolled his eyes and continued on his run, making your heart shatter in your chest. You had just been talking with him yesterday, helping him navigate the recent loss of his mother and now he wanted nothing to do with you? Worry and confusion ate away at you the whole school day, since Bradley had just graduated that summer you couldn’t corner him at lunch to get an answer out of him. You now instead had to wait until you could head around to see him at his house. As the day progressed you couldn’t help but wonder if it was just part of his grieving process. You knew anger was one of the five stages when it came to processing grief so maybe he was in that stage and just taking it out on you. Then your thoughts started to shift into more negative ones, and you started to wonder if you did something to upset him the last time you saw him. You replayed every word of the last conversation you had with Bradley and thought about whether anything you said could’ve come across as rude or upsetting to him and you just didn’t know. The second school was over you couldn’t have gotten out of the building any faster and you headed to Bradley’s house, stopping on the path when you noticed that his beautiful blue Bronco was missing from the driveway, indicating to you that Bradley wasn’t home. You chose to bite the bullet and head back home, hoping your dad might have some answers to your questions.

“Hey dad, do you know if I did something to upset Bradley? I saw him on my way to school this morning and he completely blanked me.” You asked as you ate dinner, you had your focus on your plate as you cut up your food so you missed how your dad tensed up at your question.

“No sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Maverick replied, smiling softly over at you as he took a sip from his beer bottle as the angry words Bradley had yelled at him earlier echoed in his head repeatedly.

“You sure?” You ask timidly, wanting to know if there was anything you might’ve done that you didn’t notice but your dad did.

“Positive. Give him a little space, I’m sure he’ll come back before the week is up.” He said, his smile warm and encouraging as you nodded and continued to eat your dinner.

You would not speak another word to Bradley Bradshaw until almost twenty years later.

You didn’t follow in your father’s footsteps when you grew up. You instead became an elementary school teacher and found yourself living in San Diego, mere minutes away from Top Gun. You spent most of your childhood growing up in this area so it felt like returning home after coming back after a few years at college and then teaching in Vermont. You had found yourself missing California more than you cared to admit and when you found out about a teaching job at the elementary school near the naval base you knew you had to move back. You figured that not only would it be nice to come back to the place you called home, but since you were a military kid too, you could help the young children with parents in the navy when their parents went away on deployments. You got the job and moved back to San Diego with a smile on your face.

A few months after you got settled into your new job and your new house, you got a call from your dad, telling you that he had been called back to Top Gun to teach a bunch of Top Gun graduates how to fly a mission. You had offered to let him stay with you when he told you but he declined your offer, telling you that he already had quarters to live in but he promised he’d be visiting often. It was nice to have your dad back in town again, he’d been away on a fair few deployments recently so you enjoyed having him around again, and the fact he wouldn’t be flying the mission put you at ease slightly because, from the way he described it, this mission was one of the most dangerous ones he would’ve flown.

What Maverick didn’t tell you, was that Bradley was one of the Top Gun graduates who was a candidate for the mission. He knew that despite how much you tried to hide it behind your anger, you were still hurt by Bradley leaving and cutting you out of his life. And he knew that you still loved and cared for Bradley, and you would hate to hear that he would potentially be putting his life at risk if he was chosen for this mission.

A month after the uranium mission had been completed and Maverick and Bradley had repaired their relationship, you bumped into Bradley again for the first time in seventeen years. Dagger Squadron was now a permanent fixture in San Diego with Maverick staying too, not only for his team but because he reconnected with Penny and started going out again. It was nice to have your dad around permanently, and seeing how happy he was with Penny made you happy too.

You were in the shop when you bumped into Bradley again. You were browsing the aisles, searching for new stationery for your classroom since your spare pens never seemed to return when you lent the pens to your students after they realised, they had lost their own pens. You grabbed a large pack of ballpoint pens and turned around where you quickly collided with another body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.” You apologised quickly, steadying yourself as the person you bumped into chuckled.

“No harm done.” Your heart plummeted at that all-too-familiar voice. You lifted your head to see those honey-coloured eyes you had loved so much growing up. Bradley had grown significantly since you last saw him, he’d filled out with muscles, his broad shoulders showing through the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing, evidence to you that he’d inherited his dad’s sense of style. He was now sporting a moustache that reminded you of Goose’s. As you stared at him you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you had missed him and how much of his life you had missed. But those feelings were overtaken by the anger you still held deep down at his abandonment of you. Before Bradley could say anything more, you turned on your heels and retreated, leaving Bradley standing in the middle of the stationary aisle with a confused expression. Bradley did a full sweep of the shop in the hopes he’d find you and be able to talk to you but you had left. Bradley had called Maverick on his way out of the shop, asking why he didn’t tell him that you were in town and why you were ignoring him. Maverick chose to tell Bradley that he wasn’t getting involved, that if he really wanted an answer then he had to talk to you himself. Bradley couldn’t help but groan as he hung up the phone with Maverick, knowing you’d seemingly rather talk to a pack of rabid wolves than talk to him with the way you hightailed it out of the shop. Bradley didn’t know why you were refusing to talk to him, he could’ve sworn the last time he spoke to you everything was okay between the two of you. Yes, he could admit that it had been a while since you last spoke with him but he only avoided talking to you because he was so angry at Maverick that he didn’t want to take anything out on you, and then he moved away to college before reapplying to the naval academy again. Bradley headed home, plotting ways to approach you and get you to talk to him.

After seeing Bradley in the store, you seemed to keep bumping into him everywhere you went. You tried to avoid him, ignoring him calling after you and brushing past him when he attempted to corner you. Every time you did, you felt your heart breaking more and more. You still held so much love in your heart for Bradley and it broke you to walk away from him every time you saw him. But every time you thought about hearing him out, you reminded yourself of the pain you felt when he not only ignored you but moved away without saying a word. You could understand why Bradley had been upset all those years ago, when your dad had told you that he pulled Bradley’s papers you got angry on Bradley’s behalf but soon came to understand your father's reasoning but that didn’t stop you from being at least a little upset that he did it because of the fallout it caused.

After a couple of weeks of you avoiding Bradley, he was reaching his breaking point. He was yearning to have you back in his life after so long without you. He knew he missed you when he left but he didn’t realise the severity of how much he missed you until he saw you again. He eventually figured you weren’t going to talk to him unless he could corner you somewhere. He hated himself for it, but he was growing frustrated with you avoiding him, he was trying to mend the bridge between you, and you were seemingly taking dynamite to the metaphorical bridge and destroying it further. He managed to coerce Maverick into giving him your address. He figured you’d be more comfortable talking to him in the four walls of your house and the worst you could do was slam the door in his face. He decided to wait until a Friday evening, deciding to skip Dagger Squad’s usual get-together at the Hard Deck and instead headed home after training to freshen up before heading to your house. He arrived at your house and walked up towards the house, going over what he wanted to say before he stopped in front of your front door, taking a deep breath before reaching to ring the doorbell.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the ring of your doorbell. Your dad always called or texted before he came around, Penny too. You hadn’t invited anyone around nor had you ordered any food to be delivered, although you were sat on the sofa of your house staring at the takeaway pizza menu. Figuring it was one of your teaching assistants, swinging by to run something by you or check something with you before the weekend officially began, you dragged yourself off the sofa and towards the front door, pulling it open to reveal Bradley on the other side. Your face dropped at the sight of him and you went to close the door but he was quick to brace his hand on the door and prevent it from closing. Despite how much effort you were putting into closing the door, Bradley had more muscle than you and had a much easier time keeping the door open than you were having trying to close the door.

“y/n, please talk to me.” Bradley pleads, his eyes full of concern and sorrow as he stared at you.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You say firmly, attempting to close the door once more but when he continues to hold the door open you give up, sighing heavily and stalking back towards the living room with Bradley hot on your heels after closing your front door behind him.

“y/n, I’ve been back in San Diego for a couple of months now and you’ve not spoken a word to me since I bumped into you in that shop. I tried to speak to Mav about why you’ve been avoiding me but he won’t tell me so I’ve been trying to talk to you so I can find out what’s going on here because last time we spoke-”

“Was almost twenty years ago Bradley.” You say, a sharp tone to your voice as you turn to face him, folding your arms over your chest as you stare at him.

“I don’t understand. I had to do what I could to get back into the naval academy after your dad pulled my papers. You know he did that, right?” Bradley counters, wanting you to understand why he did what he did.

“He told me a year after you left. I understand why you felt you had to do that but you didn’t need to cut me out like that. Like I meant nothing to you. Who am I kidding? Maybe I was nothing to you.” You scoff, turning away from Bradley when you feel the tears pricking at your eyes.

“y/n…” Bradley starts, aching to reach out and pull you into his arms but held himself back, knowing that was the last thing you wanted him to do.

“You never meant nothing to me.” He manages to continue, watching your movements carefully, seeing how you were fighting to keep the tears back and he silently hated himself for being the cause of them.

“Oh really? Sure felt like I did.” You mutter angrily, turning to walk into the kitchen with Bradley following behind like a lost puppy.

“You know, you meant the world to me. I loved you so much. Still do love you so much, more than I probably should. Growing up you were my best friend, the one person I wanted to spend my time with and you just left without so much as a goodbye. The last time I ever saw you before you left, you rolled your eyes at me when I tried to say hi. I spent a year of my life thinking I had done or said something that drove you off. Dad only told me what he did because he watched me blame myself for a year. Bradley, you broke my heart. But as much as I want to hate you, I can’t. Every single bit of anger I had towards you is gone because seeing you after so long reminded me of how much I love you and how much I missed you while you were gone.” You say, tears finally rolling down your cheeks at your confession and you saw as Bradley’s face softened at your words.

“y/n. I’ve been a shitty friend, I know that. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I certainly don’t deserve your love, especially after what I put you through. You were never the cause of why I stopped talking to you. I was a coward. I was scared that because of how angry I was at Mav I was going to take it out on you too. I know now that I should’ve just talked to you but by the time I realised that what I was doing was stupid, the damage had already been done and I was packing my stuff to go to college. I should’ve reached out to you and talked to you way before now because you deserved to know the truth. Don’t ever say I didn’t care about you because I did. I still do. You are still my world. I couldn’t stop thinking about you since I moved away. I thought I’d never get to see you again. That I’d never get to tell you just how much I loved you, because it’s a lot. I am so sorry y/n.” Bradley’s words make you look up at him, his now teary eyes locking with yours. Every memory you had with Bradley flashed through your mind. Memories of spending hours at the beach together. Memories of how he protected you fearlessly when people picked on you. You were seeing your Bradley again in front of you. You took a step towards him and wrapped your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. Bradley let out a shuddering breath at the hug before gingerly wrapping his arms around you, tugging you a little closer when you show no indication of letting go any time soon. Bradley then dips his head into the crook of your neck and allows his pent-up tears to fall.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry y/n.” He mutters over and over again. His voice muffled by the soft material of your shirt.

“It’s okay, Bradley.” You mumble, one of your hands reaching up to run through his hair to try and calm him down. Once both you and Bradley had calmed down, you moved to sit on the sofa and you could tell from his expression that he wanted to talk about the massive elephant in the room. Both you and Bradley had just confessed your feelings for each other.

“So, we just admitted we loved each other, huh?” You say quietly, laughing lightly at yourself as you look up at Bradley. You had kept your love for him a closely guarded secret, kept behind walls in the confines of your heart but the second you were alone in your house with him, your walls came crumbling down and you poured your heart out to him.

“We did yes. I meant it. I’ve loved you as more than a friend since we were teenagers. But I totally understand if you want nothing to do with me after what I did to you.” Bradley says, gaze lowering in shame as he speaks.

“I meant it in that way too. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever say it to your face but here we are.” You chuckle weakly, lifting your hand to cup his chin so you could direct him to be looking at you instead of at the floor.

“Can I kiss you?” Bradley asks suddenly, his eyes widening when he realises what he said. As he opened his mouth to apologise and backtrack, you pressed your lips to his, pulling him impossibly closer as he reciprocates the kiss. When you pull apart, you press your forehead to his, lips mere inches apart as you grin happily at each other.

“I’ve been waiting seventeen years for you to ask me that question.” You tease as Bradley’s grin grows playful.

“Well, I guess we’ve got a lot to catch up on then.” Bradley says playfully, pulling you towards him as he falls back along the sofa, you lying on top of him in a giggling heap. You cuddle into him instantly as his arms remain firmly wrapped around you. Bradley’s arms felt like home. Like nothing could harm you and you were safe from whatever the outside world could throw at you. As you cuddled into Bradley’s chest, he smiled to himself as he tightened his grip slightly. His world was back in his life and this time he wasn’t ever going to leave you again.

[criesinliess]

━MARCH 2024; susan's recs

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS

━━LUKE CASTELLAN

flatline @indecisivemuch

one year with luke castellan – august 14 with clarisse la rue @tangledinlove

mind over matter. @woodlandwrites

now or never @peachtarto

i’m an idiot @alipal97

a very common crisis @jab-we-drank-chai

you’re beautiful @ilycosy

parent trap @sayoneee

lighting the fuse might result in a bang @love-that-we-were-in

THE KILLERVERSE @tangledinlove — guys once again, go and read it!!!

EUPHORIA

━━ELLIOT

be quiet for me @itsoutrageouss

can’t fucking sleep without you @↑

LOCKWOOD & CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

i love you so @aislinrayne

HARRY POTTER

━━GEORGE WEASLEY

confident @itstopplingdomino

━━MATTHEO RIDDLE

nightly terrors @crvptidgf

OUTER BANKS

━━RAFE CAMERON

(not) my girl @obaex

LIFE AS A HOUSE

━━SAM MONROE

first love/late spring @forever--darling

THE ONLY BOY LIVING IN NEW YORK

━━THOMAS WEBB

photographer @eymie

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

what’s wrong with being confident @munsonluhvr

you're gonna make me fall in love with you @dual1pa

romance is dead, isn’t it? @megxplryxb

season two of "come home" @stevie-petey — go and read it if you still didn’t

call it what you want @harringtonstilinski

snow storm @eddiemunsonw

━━EDDIE MUNSON

bright eyes; part2 @caxde

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

hotter than texas; part2 @tongue-like-a-razor

ANNE WITH AN E

━━GILBERT BLYTHE

truce; distracted @crvptidgf

BRIDGERTON

━━ANTHONY BRIDGERTON

(not so) simple; part2 @atlabeth

[tempe-brennans]

and you moved me honey

author's note: a silly little story. there's mention of food (biscuits, honey, and butter). reader doesn't eat any of it, they only buy it for bradley. please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable <3 also, reader doesn't like mornings but that's the only discernable trait they have.

summary: you bring home some honey. bradley falls in love.

If you ask anybody, they’ll tell you Bradley's mother made the best biscuits in three counties. If you asked Bradley, he’d only tell you how loved the smell of fresh biscuits has always made him feel. He can remember countless times he came home and found a pan cooling on their kitchen counter–several pans in the months after his father died.

It was only on special occasions when the honey came out.

As a kid, he'd thought it was something only his mother knew about–something she'd done entirely for him. It wasn't until he got older that he realized that other people knew about the secret treat she shared with him.

A little less unique, maybe, but no less special.

The night Sydney O’Connor ditched him at prom he had walked through the door with tear stained cheeks and she had immediately ushered him into the kitchen. Within a few hours, she had produced a pan of biscuits and pulled every last detail of what was wrong from him. Bradley would never forget the gentle way she had wiped his tears, or the soft smile she gave him as she pulled out two bowls. She had stirred the little concoction of honey and butter–she’d always gotten the perfect ratio–and offered it to him. They had spent the night eating the mix spread over biscuits and talking about the one he’d one day meet who would never break his heart.

Throughout his life, at every sad moment and every happy moment, that same treat had been something they’d shared.

So, when he stumbles out of bed, hears the front door close, and finds you in the kitchen, jars of honey scattered around the counter, memories flash through his mind, technicolor.

“Morning, baby.”

You look up, smile at him. “Morning.”

“What do you have here?”

“They had some at the farmer’s market this morning.”

It makes him stop, look at you with a quirked brow.

You hate waking up early.

“What were you doing at the farmer’s market?”

“I dunno.” You shrug, continue placing the treasures you’d found on the counter. “I saw your jar of honey was almost empty and I knew you wouldn’t want to get up early today after you worked so late yesterday.”

He’s not sure if it’s the simple way you say it, or the fact you’ve gone out of your way to do something kind for him, but his heart feels like it swells three sizes.

He walks the few steps towards you, wraps his arms around your middle, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“You know something, honey,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to your skin. “M'so in love with you.”

You still. It’s the first time either of you have said the words out loud–no matter how long Bradley has felt them.

Your hands settle over his, squeeze. “I’m pretty in love with you, too, Bradshaw.”

Bradley can hear the smile in your voice, can feel the affection in your touch.

He’d always wanted a love like what his parents had. As he holds you close, breathes you in, he thinks he just may have found it.

[wildbornsiren]

Monday to Friday | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/F!Reader.

Monday to Friday Summary:  It’s just a crush-- on one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever met in your life. There’s no way he would ever return your feelings right? 2119 words female/AFAB reader. (civilian contract working on base) , Warning: None. Some alcohol consumption. (unbeta’d. We’re going in raw here) Notes: Happy birthday @writercole . I hope you have a wonderful day. As always, likes are welcomed, comments and shares fuel my muses. Thank you so very much for reading, I appreciate it, and it means the most. 

Monday. The first note caught you off guard. A brilliant yellow post-it note stuck to your closed laptop, the writing neat, block letters. ‘Have a good day.’ A cursory glance around proved that you were in fact alone. Chalking it up to the night clerk, you smile, peeling it off and placing it in the top drawer of your desk. The two of you had struck up an easy friendship and occasionally you’d bring her coffee so she could make her drive home, or she’d stay for a few minutes catching you up on gossip and the late-night goings on of the aviators. You boot up the system, and get settled behind your desk, clicking through memos and answering emails. The building doors open, and you look up, the work smile turning to a genuine smile when three people enter. “Morning.” You get a sleepy yawn from Lieutenant Garcia, a nod from Machado and an actual response from Lieutenant Fitch. A few others pass through scanning id cards and offering greetings. It wasn’t exactly a challenging job, but it paid well and between emails and making sure identification and person lined up, you could read or otherwise entertain yourself. “Morning,” a low voice caught your attention. You look up from your book to see one Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. “Hi,” You drop your gaze down to your book, closing it, using a receipt to keep your spot. He grins, and butterflies explode in your stomach. “Good book?” “It’s a little slow, but the world building is incredible, He’s created this entire element based magic system that ties in with socio-economic divides which leads to the main conflict between the main characters, and he’s just introduced a character without any sort of magical capabilities at all, which makes her an outcast….” You blink looking up at him. “I’m sorry.” He's leaning against the high counter, watching you. “Don’t stop.” He’s got a soft smile on his face, his eyes closed listening. “I’m rambling.” You feel a blush rise on your cheeks. “Plus, you’re going to be late.” He shakes his head, “I’ve got time.” “I could loan it to you, I mean if you want to read it.” “I might take you up on that—” “Bradshaw! You’re late.” Lieutenant Trace called from down the hall. “Come on, you need to get in here before Mav does.” His grin is sheepish, and he taps the countertop. “Duty calls.” Tuesday “Sorry, sorry I know I’m late. There was a hold up at the gate.” You nearly slip in your haste to get through the front doors, shoes squeaking against the linoleum. Sasha is in your seat behind the desk, looking exhausted, barely holding back yawns. “I did, however, bring a peace offering.” You place the large to-go cup of tea on the desk. “I overslept and then the mess at the gate…” “It’s fine.” She takes the cup with a soft laugh. “It’s one of the many perks of being chained to the military.” “Want me to call you a ride, or are you okay to drive?” “Will is coming to get me.” She relinquishes the computer chair to you, sitting in the folding chair. “Oh, I don’t know who left this, it was on the desk when I came back from the bathroom.” She passes over a bookmark with a yellow post-it wrapped around it. You unwrap the post-it and the same block lettering as the day before. ‘Why was the farmer given an award? He was OUTSTANDING in his field.’ You groan and chuckle passing the note off to Sasha. “That was horrible, but in the best way. Good job.” You replace the receipt with the bookmark. “Thanks, by the way.” She looks confused, shaking her head at the terrible pun. “I didn’t get this for you, I told you it was left.” “You didn’t leave the note yesterday?” “Nope,” a little grin appears on her face. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.” “Don’t be silly.” You put the new note with the first one. “I bet it’s Lieutenant Floyd, he’s so quiet and shy.” Sasha taps her chin pretending to think. “It could be Lieutenant Bradshaw.” She says coyly. “He likes to talk to you.” “He’s being polite. He’s a nice guy.” “Mmhm. A nice guy. Is that why you blush and watch after him as that ass walks down the hallway?” “Sasha!” You look around making sure no one heard her. “I’m teasing you.” She pats your shoulder. “I know you’ve got your little crush.” “Crushes are for children.” “Infatuation? Source of all your daytime and nighttime fantasies?” “Oh look, Will’s here.” You point to the door as a tall redhead makes his way through the doors. She laughs softly, patting you on the shoulder. “I’ll stop. But you should at least ask that fine piece of Navy beef to get coffee.” You watch as the two of them go off hand in hand, Sasha laughing at something her boyfriend said. The rest of your day passed without any sort of issue, the constant flow of people keeping you busy. “Excuse me?” You look up from the long-winded email to see a man holding a takeout bag. “I have a delivery for a Bradshaw?” “Go ahead and leave it here, I’ll make sure he gets it.” You say. The delivery man takes a photo of the bag and turns to go. You pick up the food, heading down the hall, barely avoiding colliding with Lieutenant Bradshaw. “Your lunch is here.” He takes the bag, opening it and rummaging inside. He frowns and catches your elbow as you turn to leave. “Hey, they doubled it, you want this?” He’s offering a wrapped sandwich. “Are you sure? I can order something.” In your haste to get out the door you had forgotten to pack a lunch. You stomach growls betraying your words. “Go on,” He takes your hand, turning it over and placing the sandwich in it. “My treat.” You skin burns when he touches it, your breath catching in your chest just from the briefest of eye contact. He winks at you, and you’re nearly convinced that you’re going to melt into the floor, or your panties were going to evaporate. Wednesday The Hard Deck is packed, despite it being the middle of the week. Classic rock plays over the speakers, chatter and laughter mixed in. You wedge yourself between two sailors, managing to get your order to the bartender. Penny was at the other end of the bar pulling beers, the mugs disappearing as soon as she set them down. “I’m going to start a tab.” You hand over your card, taking the three bottles of Miller that are passed to you. He nods, turning to take the orders of other patrons. You make your way back to the corner table you and a couple friends managed to secure. Conversation and jokes fly, the three of you catching up for the first time in months. Work was busy for the other two and eventually the conversation turned to you. “Have you talked to him yet?” Marcy asked, taking a sip of her beer. “Who?” “That gorgeous man with the ugly moustache.” She pointed toward Bradley who was by the pool table with the other aviators. “I see him at work.” You shake your head. “And he’s definitely not interested.” “Not interested, but he’s looking over here.” “The bar is packed Marcy; he could be looking at anyone.” The jukebox cuts off, the groan of the patrons almost instant. You lose sight of Bradley for a moment, but the sound of piano keys jingling draws your attention that way. He’s on the bench, rolling his shoulders, fingers plucking out a few notes to get attention. He starts to play, the bar singing along with him. The way he commands the bar is breathtaking, magnetic, bringing everyone together. He’s lost to the music, howling the words to the song. Sweat beads his brow, and the neon lights of the bar make him glow. He’s breathtaking and you can’t help but watch him, enamored with his presence. “You should wipe your mouth.” Marcy hands you a napkin. “You’ve got a bit of drool…” “Shut up.” You mutter, snatching away the offering. “Go sing with him.” “You know damn well I can’t carry a tune, even if you hand it to me in a bucket.”

“So, send him a beer.” Now, that was an idea you could get behind. You get up, headed for the bar. The bartender who served you previously grins making his way over. “Can you send a beer to Rooster?” His call sign felt wrong, almost intimate coming from your mouth. “Put it on my tab, and I’m going to close out.” “You want me to let him know who it’s from honey?” “No, no just someone who appreciates the music.” Thursday. “Mornin’ sweetheart.” A travel cup appears in your line of sight. “Rough night?” The familiar voice slides down your back like velvet. You look up to see Lieutenant Bradshaw holding a cup of his own. “Didn’t know how you like it, so I just got you a mocha.” “We started with beer and switched to vodka later in the evening.” You murmur. The headache behind your eyes had started to subside. The coffee smelled good. “I thought I saw you last night.” He’s leaning against the counter, watching you with a small smile. “You should have come say hi.” “You were hustling Lieutenant Seresin at the pool table. I didn’t want to interrupt you.” He chuckles. “I probably would have done better. Pretty women always bring luck.” You nearly choke on your sip of coffee. It’s sweet, warm and what you wanted. You didn’t realize how much you wanted those words to come out of his mouth. “You think I’m pretty?” “I don’t think it, I know it.” He taps the countertop. “You have a good morning alright?” You watch as he walks away, wrapping your hands tight around the cup. He pauses before he enters the briefing room, he pauses, says your name. “Thanks for the beer.” Friday. You shut down your computer, logging out for the evening. Eyeing the clock, you see that you still have a little while before Sasha comes in to relieve you. Reaching for a pile of print outs you start going over the names and completing the last of your paperwork before you can enjoy your evening. “You look nice.” Sasha says, coming around the desk to join you. “Hot date?” You roll your eyes, “Only with Netflix and a pizza. Maybe a glass of wine.” “Does he know the plans for the evening?” You follow her gaze to see Bradley sitting on one of the benches near the door, just out of earshot. “He left a while ago, what’s he doing back?” “I think he has plans to invite you to dinner or drinks. Based on what he was saying when he was on the phone.” “You think so?” You tug at the hem of your shirt. “Do I really look okay?” “You look amazing. Anyway, you could be wearing a trash bag and he’d be looking at you with those big brown eyes as if you handed him the stars.” She hands over your purse. “Go, have fun.” The hallway seems impossibly long when you leave your workspace. He looks up when you stop in front of him. “I ah, wanted to give you this before, but I thought I missed you.” You pull the book from your bag, offering it to him. “I’m keeping the bookmark, but I left you something to keep your spot.” The receipt poked out between the pages; your number written on the top of it. He takes the book, “You wanna grab a drink?” He clears his throat, “tonight, with me. We can talk about the book.” “You’ve read just by holding it?” Bradley drops his gaze, a blush rising on his neck. It’s cute, especially when it travels to his ears. “I’ve read it already. It’s one of my favorites.” “The notes?” “I like your smile.” He chuckles, “the beer?” “I like your singing.” “You’d also like him out of that ugly ass Hawaiian shirt. Quit flirting in front of my salad and go!” Sasha’s voice carries down the hallway. Bradley gets to his feet and offers you, his hand. “Let’s go before she accuses us of watching her salad dressing.” “That was horrible.” You mutter groaning. “Absolutely terrible.” “I am terrible, but I’m also very good. I’d like to show you how good.” He’s leaning down, murmuring into your ear. “But first, let me buy you dinner.” ---------------------- tagging in: @princessmisery666 @princessphilly @evansrogerskitten @hoe-on-the-range​ @callsign-phoenix @callsign-fox @mayhem24-7forever​ @shadeds-library​ @butaneandthebeast​ @blue-aconite​ @therebeccaw @marvelandotherfandomimagines @jostystyles​  @cowboybarbie @mandylove1000​ @topguncortez​ @hederasgarden​ 

[callsigndragon]

Prompt list:

#25 for a himbo Rooster pls (not a surprise…I bet you’re tired of writing for Rooster…but I couldn’t resist 🙈) 💖

𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚 𝕘𝕠 𝕚 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 | B.B

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader (not use of y/n)

prompt: being reminded of them by random things around them

warnings: mentions of Goose

A/N: Best boy for my best baby <3 hope you like this one

Rooster didn't travel light for someone who had spent his entire life traveling, never settling down and always moving on to the next port as soon as a new mission became available.    

He had several items with him. Some were just aviator stuff: his glasses, his uniforms, patches from past units he had been at in the past... The usual.   

Some of them, on the other hand, were quite personal and random. You swear you see bits and pieces of him everywhere you go.  

Ugly Hawaiian shirts at the store near the beach.   

A small foldable moustache comb you end up buying as a joke, but something tells you it is going to be in his pocket everywhere he goes.   

You pay for a rooster plush as soon as you lay eyes on him. Your imagination begins to devise a scheme to grab one of Bradley's old t-shirts and dress the plushie in it. You know, to keep you company during those long weeks he's away.    

An old Polaroid camera, like the one his father had. The one he lost so long ago…   

He only told you about the camera once, but the excitement in his eyes as he showed you the massive Polaroid collection Goose amassed during his short time as an aviator was enough to make an imprint in your mind.    

You weren’t actively searching for the camera, but every time you saw a photography shop or an antique store, you had to look out for it.   

Today, luckily, you found it in the only place you weren’t expecting to: a garage sale.   

"What's this, honey?" He asks, dropping his phone on the sofa and giving you his full and undivided attention.  

"I went to a garage sale."   

He places a hand on his chest, opens his mouth, and gasps. "Without me?"  

"Yeah, but that wasn't my intention!" I was driving by and had a sense. I needed to get out of the car and look around." You nudge the package closer to him, expecting him to open it.    

"At least you brought me something."   

"You know you’re like a kid sometimes."   

"Charming, I know." He smiles while opening the box, his heart stopping for a bit once he holds the camera in his hands. "H-how... I only told you once."   

You smile, taking a place on the sofa with him and watching his face light up like a kid on Christmas morning. "I made it my personal mission to find you one."   

"I love you so much," he whispers while his lips brush against yours before pulling you for a kiss.   

@novastories

@purplevortexx

@kmc1989

[make-me-imagine]

Secret Santa: Part One

12 Days of Christmas: Day 10

Plot: When you and the squad end up taking part in a Secret Santa exchange. The gifts you receive end up being love confessions. But who are they from?

[Bob's Ending] [Fanboy's Ending] [Hangman's Ending] [Rooster's Ending] [Maverick's Ending]

Pairing: Gn!Reader x ??? (Choose your own character ending) *Possible Endings: Bob, Fanboy, Rooster, Hangman & Maverick

Words: 2.9k

A/n: Bob and Fanboys endings will be posted Christmas Eve. And the other three will come out Christmas Day. I will add the links to this fic once they are posted.

-

Walking towards the training room, you heard the familiar voices of the other pilots. You had been reunited with the dagger squad, and some other pilots you knew from the past. Another mission, another training program, trained once again by Maverick.

Through the grueling training and test flights, you were enjoying your time being with the others again. Though you had to admit you were excited about one, more than the others, but you were sure they didn't know that.

As you entered the room, your eyes cast over the group. Hangman and Rooster were bickering as usual, while Bob and Phoenix rolled their eyes. Fanboy, Payback and Coyote watched silently, sharing the occasional look.

Seeing you enter Jake turned in his seat "Y/n, perfect, perhaps you could solve our little problem."

"Nope, no." You shook your head as you took your seat, "Do not drag me into whatever is going on, I don't want to be a part of it."

Phoenix and Bob snickered as Jake leaned over"Come on, I think you'd be on my side."

"Like hell they would." Rooster broke in.

You shook your head with a soft smile as you saw Maverick enter. "Pilots, good morning." He said with a cheery voice.

His eyes ran over you and the others as he walked past. In his hands was a Santa hat.

As he stopped at the podium he looked at all of you in silence for a short moment. "Before we start our training today, I thought we might have a little Christmas fun."

You quirked your brow and sat up a bit, you saw the others do the same.

"Sir?" Bob asked with a curious tone.

"Secret Santa!" He said with a smile.

A small murmur went over the group as Maverick shook the hat in his hands. "In this hat are all of our names. You will each pick a name, and over the next three days, starting tomorrow, you have to give your person three gifts."

"Three?" Jake spoke up.

"Yes, three. On day three, by the end of the day, you must give me a slip of paper with the name of the person you gifted, and the name of the person you think is your gift giver. If you guess correctly, you get a day off of training. If you are wrong. You will be cleaning up after the Christmas party."

A small groan came from the group as you all pictured what mess would be left behind after that.

"There are two rules. One, don't get caught leaving your person a gift, or you are disqualified. Two, do not tell anyone who your person is."

As Maverick walked around holding the hat out for everyone to take a name, your eyes scanned over everyone. You wonder who would be the easiest person to buy a gift for. Your eyes lingered on one person as you thought of a thousand things you could get them.

"If you get yourself, grab a different name." He said softly as he continued down the line.

Getting to you, he gave you a small smile as you reached in. Pulling out a slip of paper you opened it to read 'Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace.' You smiled softly before closing the paper and shoving it in your pocket.

After everyone had chosen their names, the class went on like usual, though you knew everyone was a bit distracted, thinking of what to get their chosen person. Though it wasn't a competition, a familiar buzz ran through the room.

You tried not to look at Phoenix, not wanting to give away she was who you got. But you did glance around, wondering if you might find someone looking at you.

You would be lying if you didn't have someone particular in mind as to who you hoped might be your secret Santa. The same person you thought would be the easiest to buy for. Though, the luck of them getting you was pretty small.

By the end of training you had enough time left to go out and try to find a gift for Phoenix. You had thought long and hard about the types of gifts she might like, but you still struggled. Knowing she had a thing for antique and vintage objects, you thought going to an antique store might do the trick.

Walking through the store, you looked at various objects, before finally landing on an old hourglass carved out of wood. It was certainly unique, and looked old. Buying it, you hoped she would like it. Knowing you wouldn't really know for a few days.

Making it back to the base after another hour of shopping you felt relieved, having bought three gifts for Phoenix, and some wrapping paper.

As you walked down the corridor, you saw Bob walking towards you. He smiled and his eyes caught on the wrapping paper in your hands.

"Don't tell me you got all your gifts already?" He asked with mild surprise.

You smiled "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't" You said jokingly as you continued past him, seeing him smile at you as he nodded in understanding.

As you rounded the corner, you looked back, seeing him disappear around the corner. 'I bet he's a great gift giver' You thought to yourself as you made your way back to your room.

Unpacking your shopping bags, you looked at the gifts you got Natasha. The hourglass, a gift card for one of her favorite shops she could never convince herself to buy something from, and a Phoenix pendant necklace you managed to find by chance in a cute shop near the beach. You had almost jumped in excitement when you saw it.

After wrapping the gifts, you finally went to sleep, your last thoughts being about who may have picked your name from the hat.

--- --- ---

During your break in between training the next day, you snuck Natasha's first present out of your room and quickly made your way to her room. Setting the present down in front of her door, you rushed back to your room. Breathing a breath of relief as no one spotted you.

As you rounded the corner to your room, you stopped as you spotted a bouquet of flowers placed at your door.

"Wha-" You looked back down the hall in bewilderment.

You had only been gone for a few minutes, and you hadn't seen or heard anyone else.

"Sneaky" You whispered to yourself as you walked up to your door.

Picking up the flowers, you smiled at them. It was a beautiful bouquet of Gardenias in an ornamental Christmas colored vase. You smelled them as you made your way into your room.

You knew it was a well known fact that you loved flowers, and often knew the meaning behind them, enjoying the symbolism of each individual flower. You were teased by some of the others about this in the past, which didn't really narrow down who might be your secret Santa.

"Gardenias" You muttered to yourself as you tried to remember the meaning behind them.

Seeing a small note in the flowers, you pulled it out to see a short typed note.

'There's importance in the symbolism.'

You smiled as you remembered saying this once when the others were teasing you about why you were so determined to get the right flowers for someone as a gift.

Thinking back to that moment, you tried to remember who was in the room. Maverick, Hangman, Rooster, Bob, Fanboy and Coyote. Well, that doesn't narrow it down much.

"Appreciation? No, that's not it. Joy!" You knew that was at least one of them.

Setting the flowers on your table, you pulled out your phone to look it up. As you scrolled through the meaning of gardenias, your eyes caught on one particular meaning.

"Secret Love?" You asked softly, your heart beating heavily in your chest.

No, it could be the 'you're lovely' meaning. Just a friendly message. Not an admission. Unless it was?

As someone popped into your head, you felt a mild sense of hope, before you pushed it away. It might be a mistake. They may not have seen the meaning of gardenias as secret love.

You decided not to focus on this too much. Not until you knew more, maybe the next gift would tell you?

Hearing your alarm, you made your way out of your room for your next test flight. You took one last look at the flowers as you went.

As much as you tried, the idea of the flowers left for you being a confession stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but look at the others, wondering if it could be any of them.

You had hopeful thoughts for one, but that was all it was. Hope. There wasn't anything that made it seem obvious that they had feelings for you. Nor had there been from any of the others.

You were close to all of them, good friends. But secret love? You really weren't sure.

--- --- ---

The next day the pilots were abuzz with talk of their presents. Each trying to trick their Secret Santa into giving themselves away. Everyone eyed each other with suspicious gazes.

Natasha briefly mentioned the hourglass, and you could tell she had liked it. That was all the gratification you needed.

You kept your present to yourself, knowing that everyone would tease you about the flowers. Asking what their meaning was. You didn't want to out the meaning in case it was a mistake. So you played coy, only making everyone else more curious.

"Maybe their secret Santa forgot to give them their present?" Fanboy asked as he eyed you, his chin resting on the back of the chair in front of him.

You smiled softly at him and made a motion of a zipper across your lips as you looked to the front of the class as Maverick entered.

"Alright everyone, I know you are all talking about your secret Santa's Anyone get caught leaving a present?"

The was silence among the crowd and Maverick smiled "Good, stealth is important, I'd be disappointed if anyone got caught."

You were nervous to head back to your room after training. Expecting another present to be left for you. There was an odd sense of suspense, that you weren't sure was based around excitement or dread.

As you rounded the corner, and your eyes locked onto your door, you felt an odd pang in your chest as you saw nothing sitting at your door. Maybe they hadn't had time to leave it? Maybe they changed their mind on the prssent?

Getting to your door, you opened it, accepting that you were a bit disappointed. As you stepped into your room, you flinched as a small box fell from your door and bounced off your head, landing on the ground.

"What the hell?" You asked perplexed as you looked up at your door, seeing a small piece of tape, had been holding the box there. "How the hell-" You mumbled off as you reached down and grabbed the box.

You looked over at the window, wondering if they used it to get in. Or maybe they got the key?

Opening the small box, your heart was racing. Would this present give away another secret? Would it confirm or deny the meaning of the flowers? And why tape it to the door?

Seeing a small chain, you grabbed it and pulled it out, revealing a small glass apple on the end. It was cute, but you wondered why they chose it of all things.

Seeing a piece of paper in the box, you pulled it out. Taking a deep breath as you opened it.

Another typed out message.

'Did you know in Ancient Greece, to throw an apple at someone was a declaration of love?'

Your breath caught in your throat as you read over the message again and again. To throw an apple? So the rigged the box to fall on you as though they were throwing it at you?

You wanted to laugh, but your heart was hammering too heavily. You sat on your bed and looked over at the gardenias. So it did mean secret love. That wasn't a misunderstanding.

As you sat there, thinking it over, more realizations came to mind.

The person who got you happened to be in love with you, and was now using the secret Santa exchange as a way to tell you.

You let out a long drawn out breath. You were touched, and excited, yet nervous. There was only one person out of all the pilots these gifts would really mean something from. If it was any of the others, could you ever feel the same?

Who would know about Ancient Greece? You wondered. It definitely seemed like some odd fact Bob, Rooster or Fanboy might pick up at some point. Hangman could be a secret romantic. Maverick was playing the game too and he knew a lot about random things.

You felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety wash over you. Lying down you stared up at your cieling as you held the small apple necklace to your chest. It wasn't obvious who it could be. Would it be an insult to this person to keep hoping it was one specific person?

It would only hurt you more if you kept hoping it was them, and you were wrong.

Maybe the third gift would give it away. Sitting up, it suddenly donned on you that you needed to leave Natasha her second gift.

"Shit." You muttered as you looked over at envelope with the gift card. I could slip it into her locker, you thought. Or slip it under her door.

This secret Santa exchange took such a different turn than you were expecting, and you really didn't know how to act.

Looking at the clock, you saw it was nearly time to head out. You were all heading out to get dinner. You'd take the envelope with you, hoping to find a moment to slip it into her bag or car sometime during the night.

And maybe you could gather some hints about who might be your secret...admirer?

--- --- ---

As you walked across the tarmac the next day, your eyes landed on the person walking up to you.

"Nice time." Rooster said as he slowed in his step.

"Thanks, think you can beat it?" You asked with a teasing tone.

"I know I can." He winked before continuing past you and towards his jet.

You smiled and shook your head softly as you headed towards the locker room. After a long day of training, you were finally done.

You even managed to slip the last gift for Phoenix into her bag this morning. Having slipped the envelope under her door the previous night once you got back from the dinner.

During said dinner, hen the topic of secret Santa came up, you tried to pay attention To hints of who might be your secret Santa. But you learned nothing, everyone was keeping it close to their chests.

Today was the last day of the Secret Santa exchange. By eight this evening you had to give Maverick a slip of paper with your guess on it. You had yet to receive your third gift, and had yet to figure out who it was.

Opening your locker, you watched as an envelope fell to the floor. You looked around, seeing and hearing no one else in the room. Picking it up, you opened it, with your heart beating faster than before.

The third gift, what would it be? A full length confession? A gift card?

As you pulled two slips of paper out, your mouth opened slightly in surprise.

One slip was a ticket to a Christmas festival behind held about an hour away tomorrow night. You had wanted to go, but the tickets sold out too fast.

The second piece of paper was a short note, once again typed out.

'I have the other ticket, find me there.'

You stared at the paper in contemplation. So they had every intention of you finding out who they were after all. 'Find me there.'

It had to be someone who knew you wanted to go to the festival. Who did you mention it to?

Thinking back on it you sighed. Five of them knew about the ticket. That hardly narrowed it down. Though you were still aware that that specific someone always on your mind was one of them.

Tucking the ticket and note back into the envelope you put it in your duffle. You needed to decide what to do.

Not only who to guess, but whether or not you were ready to find out who they were. To find out who apparently had hidden feelings for you.

Your mind was heavy with uncertainty as you headed to Maverick's office at the end of the day. As you knocked on the door and handed him the paper, your heart was never steady.

You didn't know who you would find at the festival tomorrow, but you knew who you wanted it to be. Whether or not it was them, you would go, you had to. And if it was someone that you didn't have feelings for, well, you would deal with it then. No matter what.

Even with the nerve wracking thought it was unrequited love you might be finding at the festival, the hope that it was not unrequited, that it was a shared feeling, hidden between the two of you, made it worth the risk.

You just hoped you still thought that tomorrow.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07, @pockyandme, @iceman-kazansky, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @linkxneptune, @creativitybeware, @callsignmaverick5, @phoenix1389

Hangman/Rooster Taglist: @readingwithatorch,

[almostgenerallyalways]

where the wild things are

Pt 1/3  Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem reader  Category: angst / light smut (>18!) / eventual happiness  Word count: 3,4k (sorry if you saw this posted before - i got in my head and wanted to take it in a different direction) CW: language, grief

Two years ago, your sister’s death left a smoking crater in your life, leaving you to take care of your niece. Bradley has lived with loss his whole life, and is in a bad spot on the anniversary of his mother’s death. 

Or: there is a crack in everything / that is how the light gets in

Carol Bradshaw used to read to Bradley from Where the Wild Things Are, and Bradley used to picture it: sailing to an island inhabited by monsters, and reigning as their King. She made him a felt crown, once, which he’d wear to school, and which she’d hang from the wooden post of his twin bed at night, before she tucked him in.

It’s Goose who always looms largest in his mind, sticking to him like a shadow, the long-buried legend everyone compares him to. Sometimes, in the morning, Bradley looks in the mirror and sees his father’s ghost reflected back at him, and he thinks, as he ages into his mid-thirties: Dad never got these crinkly lines next to his eyes. He never got a chance to frown at the stubbornly multiplying white hairs at his temples.

As he got a little older, Where the Wild Things Are was relegated to the back of a shelf. It’s strange, he thinks: One day you read your favorite childhood story for the last time. One day your mother kisses you on the crown of your head for the last time, and you don’t even realize it.

When he got too old for picture books, Carol used to tell him stories about Goose, until he could recite them by heart. The places he’d gone. The adventures he’d lived. The way he’d proposed to her, down on one knee in the sand still warm from the fading sun. The way she’d jumped into his arms, sending him flying back into the surf, knocking off his sunglasses to be carried away on a wave.

She did such a wonderful job keeping Goose’s memory alive, was so dedicated to making sure Bradley would know his father (the way he’d grin at Carol from behind the keys of the piano. The way he’d burn pancakes every time, but still insisted on making them every weekend he spent with his wife and son), that adult Bradley sometimes thinks: I hope she knew.

I hope she knew she wasn’t just Goose’s widow, there to carry on his spirit for his son, for Mav, for everyone.

Bradley knows his father was larger than life – and hopes his mother didn’t feel crushed under the weight of him, of the specter of the husband she lost at barely thirty: Mav crying into her shoulder and Bradley acting out at school, the Navy sending her a medal in a polished mahogany box.

He never asked her. At nineteen, faced with losing the only parent he remembered outside of the bedtime stories, outside of the pictures tacked up in Mav’s apartment, it was all he could do to keep showing up for her – for the hands that kept growing thinner, until the veins stood out starkly, for the clumps of hair he’d pluck off her pillow before she could notice she’d lost them.

He wonders, too, after he’s done staring at his father’s ghost in the mirror, why she never remarried, back when she’d (theoretically, cruelly) had her whole life ahead of her. He recalls, vaguely, men being interested over the years: family friends or colleagues who’d drop by the house on the weekends, throwing a ball around with Bradley. But they were always kept at arm’s length, if not by Mav’s harsh gaze (and was that right, Bradley reflects now, was that fair?), then by Carol herself.

She’d been so young, he thinks, rubbing a hand over his temple, trying to smooth out a permanent crease that seems to have appeared overnight. Did she feel like she couldn’t? Or like she shouldn’t?

And who is keeping Carol’s memory alive, now? Only him.

Only him to remember how she’d read to him, every night, without fail. How she’d make him the Sunday pancakes, although she wouldn’t torch them like Goose had. How she’d park him on the chair outside his elementary school principal’s office and storm in there, a determined look on her face, and when she’d come out he’d suddenly be unsuspended, Principal Spacek looking uncharacteristically cowed.

How she’d let Mav crash on their couch for months on end, and drive Bradley to hockey in the winters and baseball in the summers, and always, always, hug him and tell him she loved him before he left the house, even the morning after they’d had a monstrous argument about him smoking weed in the high school parking lot.

He's the only one left to carry on that torch. And he’s got no one to hand it to.

So forgive Bradley if he, on the fifteenth anniversary of his mother’s death, wants to get shitfaced drunk.

* * *

You suck on the straw of your drink, only to find there’s nothing but ice and the tangy pulp of crushed lime left at the bottom of your glass. Music pounds in your ears, and though you’ve barely had two, you feel a little giddy – you’re a lightweight, now, out of practice.

Not since Sierra has lived with you have you been in a place like this, packed with bodies and possibilities, people dancing and laughter ringing out, a sharp vibration of potential in the air.

You used to love this, before: dressing up and linking arms with your friends, letting the night carry you wherever it may. Tumbling in the back of Lyfts on the promise of another bar being open later, a friend of a friend’s after-party where you could dangle your feet in the pool, kiss a stranger.

Right now, though, you can’t get yourself to relax fully. Your mind keeps drifting to Sierra, long asleep by now, at your parents’ house – in a few hours she’ll be rolling into their bedroom, demanding waffles for breakfast.

Not being with her generates a constant low-grade buzz of anxiety, bouncing between your heart and stomach, and you keep checking your phone even though it’s been ages since your mother texted you a picture of her, safely tucked into her makeshift bed on the pull-out couch in their living room.

You remind yourself once again that this is Callie’s night, and that Sierra is safe, and that you should try to actually enjoy a Saturday night where you’re not, for once, desperately trying to catch up on work and/or scrubbing purple Crayola off the baseboards of your rented apartment and/or falling asleep on the couch at 8:30 pm, every bit as exhausted as the four-year-old cradled in your arms.

As if on cue, Callie floats by, a ridiculous plastic tiara askew atop her wild mass of curls, and grins at you like the Cheshire Cat: “Babe. Stop making a face like you left the stove on, and come dance with Priya and me.”

Your heart melts a little bit, and you reach out affectionately to straighten out her crown. “Alright, bridezilla. Let me go get you a fresh drink first.”

A minute later, you’ve weaved your way through the pulsing crowd to claim a spot at the heavy oak bar – the gleaming wood looks like it’d be more suited to a saloon than a place like this. Pushing yourself up on your tiptoes, you search the menu for something Callie might enjoy – she’s got drain water tastes on a champagne budget.

The beleaguered bartender signals that it’s your turn.

“A paloma,” you say, still frowning at the menu. “and a Coors Light, please.”

“Paloma.” Someone next to you repeats, as if a little surprised.

You turn slightly to look at the stranger, a dismissive remark at the ready, but it dies on your tongue.

Because he’s very striking, this man, sitting on a barstool in faded jeans and an absolute eyesore of a shirt: tall and handsome with an incongruous moustache, suntanned skin and the dawn of a smile at the corner of his mouth not quite matched by the deep circles under his eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding a little hoarse. “That was my mom’s drink. With Fresca, of course.”

You cock your head slightly. He’s holding what looks like a scotch on the rocks, glass already almost empty before the ice has had a chance to melt, and you know that feeling. Have spent a good few nights chasing answers at the bottom of a glass, never getting anywhere.

“I don’t think they make Fresca anymore,” You say, “But it’s still good.”

“I haven’t thought about that in forever.” He smiles slightly, looking back down into his glass, and you can’t help but be charmed. He glances at you. “Can I buy you a drink? This one, I mean.”

There’s something in your gut that tells you to say yes, so you say: “Yeah, why not?”

* * *

Bradley, as it turns out his name is, is the sort of good-looking that intimidates you a little. At first, you feel like you can’t look directly at him for too long – it’s a bit like staring into the sun.

But there’s something else about him, too, that makes you forget about all that. The slight hunch of his shoulders, the way his smile looks a little out of practice. Somehow, over the din of the bar, his voice draws you in until you realize you’ve told him half your life story over the course of three quarters of a drink.

“So you’re a San Diego girl through and through, then, huh?” He inquires, propping his chin up with his hand, elbow resting on the gleaming bar.

You raise your almost-empty glass. “Born and raised, went to college here, the works. The only time I was ever away was when I worked in Boston for two years, but then-” You look down at your bare knees, coming up short for a second. “But then I requested a transfer.”

But then my sister died, and my life fell apart is not conversation for handsome strangers you meet in bars, and right here, right now, you don’t want to be that girl, anyway.

Bradley smiles, taking your abrupt silence for the evasion it is. “I don’t blame you. Too cold up in New England. I was stationed in Rhode Island for a little while, wasn’t my favorite.”

You return his smile gratefully. He’s a gentleman, you think – he doesn’t pry. He smells good, too – Top shelf whiskey and sun and aged oak. It’s messing with your head a little.

Callie finally finds you when her beer’s already past lukewarm, forgotten where it sits on the bar. She throws her arms around you from behind: “There you are, we thought you bailed on us.”

She catches sight of your companion, and your apprehension rises when you see the metaphorical bulb light up above her head. “Oh, hello. Didn’t realize you’d made a friend.”

You manage to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. Just last week she fruitlessly tried to tell you to take more time for yourself, make some effort, meet someone, so she must be loving this. “Callie, this is Bradley. Bradley, this is the bride.”

She holds out her hand, allows him to take it. “One of, at least. My future better half is holding her cousin’s hair back in the ladies’ room.”

“Congratulations,” Bradley grins, apparently not in the least phased by this, “on your impending nuptials.”

You swoon a little bit. Callie, of course, notices, and has an expression on her face like it’s Christmas morning.

“Listen, babe,” she says, looking down at you, her gleaming metallic heels (her favorite pair, you remember picking them out with her for graduation, though they were not at all appropriate for the occasion) giving her a height advantage. “Priya wants to go downtown, to that place with the two DJ’s in the basement. Are you coming?”

She looks between the man opposite and you. “Unless…”

Unless. You know you should, it’s her bachelorette, and it’s been so long since you’ve been able to give her your undivided attention: Between Sierra, and work, and crying heaving panic attacks about the state of your life following crippling, devastating grief, you’ve always had her support, and you owe her (maybe, quite literally) your life.

Bradley cuts in, tentative over the change in music to a slower, deeper sound: “Unless you want to stay here a little bit longer?” (It shouldn’t be possible, you think, for him to look this fucking sincere.) “I would really like that. I could drop you off there later…?”

He turns to Callie: “You could text me the address?”

Callie went to law school with you, and while you went into the safe, comparatively sane world of corporate finance, she is a public prosecutor through and through. She narrows her eyes at Bradley, clearly torn between deep-seated, hard-learned suspicion of strange men, and budding, unadulterated joy at seeing you take an interest in anyone who’s not your niece or a client.

“Alright, Bradley,” She levels, sizing him up judiciously, the effect only slightly diminished by the plastic crown still clinging to the side of her head, “I’ll need your phone and driver’s license.”

To his credit, he hands both over without a word, and Callie makes quick work of texting herself his contact details and a photo of his license. “Great,” she looks up, grinning: “You kids have fun. I’m gonna drag my future wife out of the bathroom and blow this joint.”

To her credit, she refrains from miming I’m watching you at Bradley, but you suppose it’s implied.

* * *

When you step outside into the chill of the San Diego night air ahead of him, it hits Bradley that this night is going nothing like he expected. From the moment you appeared next to him, out of thin air, he’s felt off-kilter.

Like he got tipped into your orbit, and now he’s fated to spin circles around you.

“Paloma.” He says, and you turn slightly, a smile on your lips. He steps in closer, nudging you out of the way of the flow of people making their way into the bar.

Your eyes flash up to his when the broad flat of his palm makes contact with the curve of your side, your skin feeling hot through the thin, slippy fabric of your dress – the color brings to mind the backyard of his old house in Tierrasanta, overrun with California sage: he spent a lot of time there as a kid, alone with his thoughts. He presses his thumb to the fabric, the force of the memory almost bringing back the earthy, crisp smell of that place.

You don’t say anything, holding his gaze as he trails his palm down your side, but he swears your eyes darken almost imperceptibly, and your breath hitches. It emboldens him, and his free hand finds the curve of your jaw, your skin feeling impossibly soft under his fingertips and then he’s kissing you, and the rest of the world (the passing cars, the faint pounding of music from inside, the buzzing of a streetlamp nearing the end of its life overhead) retreats.

You taste like tequila and lime and grapefruit and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Your hands come up to curve around his shoulders, fingertips grazing the nape of his neck, and he pulls you a little closer. You let out a little sigh in response, and it goes straight to his head, heart hammering in his throat when you cup his jaw, deepen the kiss even more.

He pulls away after a moment, dazed, and sees the wild look he’s sure he must have in his eyes reflected in yours. It sends a jolt of heat right through him, and he swallows heavily.

“Bradley.” You state, and he opens his eyes to find you looking up at him, a little smirk on your face like you know exactly what just went through his head. He almost laughs, feeling suddenly out of breath, but then you slowly run your thumb up the line of his jaw, and all thoughts leave him.

“Tell me to take you to your friends.” He says, sounding a little hoarse to his own ears.

He feels you shiver under his palm for a moment, and your eyes close. He can’t help but feel gratified (and he’s aware of the way he looks, women like him, he knows this – but right now, he particularly wants you to like him, to approve, to see past the glaring cracks in his foundation), and a heady warmth floods him when you open your eyes, that little smirk returning to your face, and you say:

“Take me home with you.”

* * *

You’re nervous, you can’t lie to yourself – going home with someone seems like something out of a past life to you at this point, let alone someone you just met – but Bradley has a way of looking at you that makes you forget your nerves, your self-consciousness. He’s barely taken his eyes off you since he first asked your name, and something about him (maybe it’s that quiet confidence he exudes: not showy, not cocky, just steady and certain) puts you at ease.

He's so eager, and you feel like it makes you glow. You laugh when he bumps his head in his haste to pick you up, press you up against the door – he looks sheepish, for a second, until he smiles wide and kisses you again, and heat floods through you.

You haven’t really felt beautiful, or desired, in two years – the first year after Mel died was a fog of grief and sorrow, a mess of bureaucracy and lawyers, where it was all you could do to keep treading water, keep Sierra fed and cared for, shield her from the worst of the flying shrapnel the grenade of your sister’s death sent careening into your family’s lives. The second year, you pulled yourself together because there was no other option – working long hours to secure Sierra’s future, helping your parents where you could, spending every waking minute worrying for this little life you’d become responsible for.

Bradley doesn’t hide his desire, on the contrary – hitching your legs around his waist, burying his face in your neck (the straps of your pale green dress slipping down your shoulder) – he keeps telling you how beautiful you are, into the skin of your throat, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts.

You’re still half-dressed when he makes you come on his fingers, and for the first time in ages your mind is pleasantly blank, free of worry, the only thoughts being more and Bradley’s warm skin between your thighs as you nudge him down onto the bed, lightly running your fingernails down his torso until he can’t take it anymore and flips you onto your back, his body reassuringly solid above you.

* * *

Hours later, Bradley’s asleep, face pressed heavily into your shoulder, and for a mad, half second you consider just letting yourself drift off right here, with his arm slung across your waist. On the nightstand sits a picture, the glossy, slightly out-of-focus quality of disposable Kodak, of two people and their baby. You reach for it, next to a couple of Jodi Picoult novels and a very worn copy of something called the F-14D NATOPS Flight Manual, and trace your finger down the side of the frame.

Bradley shifts and nestles his face into your neck a little closer, and your stomach sinks. You know you have to go; can’t face waking up here tomorrow and trying to explain, seeing those eyes that looked at you so reverently as he kept repeating your name grow cold.  

Just for a moment, as you run your fingers through the coarse waves of his hair, you allow yourself to imagine you could have this: Someone to fall asleep next to, to take care of you, to tell you things will be okay.

But that’s a dangerous thought, and you’ve discarded it by the time you softly shut the door behind you.

masterlist 

part 2