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roosterforme · 2 years

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Red Flags, Green Flags | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing.

Warnings: Fluff!

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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Hangman tossed some darts listlessly at the dartboard and sighed. "What's your problem, man?" Bradley asked. "You look miserable tonight." "Yeah, you usually get off on beating us at darts. What's wrong?" Phoenix asked. "I have a girl meeting me here for a second date in a little while," Hangman drawled, sipping his whiskey. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have asked her out again." Payback snorted. "What's wrong with her? She not hot enough for you?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. That was probably the case as each girl Jake dated somehow looked more like a model than the previous one. "Nah, she's real cute," Hangman said, scratching his chin. "She's just giving off some red flags for me. I think I was momentarily blinded by her face when I asked her out again, because she's definitely not my type." "What red flags does she have?" Phoenix asked, taking her turn at darts. Bradley settled into his seat to listen. This ought to be good. "Well, she's really close with her family. Likes spending time with them," Jake said with a frown. Bradley's brow scrunched up; he thought that sounded pretty nice, actually. "And she volunteers all the time. At the library and the animal shelter and the soup kitchen. She's always so busy, it took forever to even schedule the first date! So I don't see this lasting past tonight," Jake added, finishing his drink. "She sounds pretty good to me," Bradley said cautiously. Actually she sounded really great. "You could always volunteer with her one day, then you'd get to spend some time with her." Jake scoffed. "I'd rather just find a girl who wants to spend her time with me," he said, flashing his charming smile. "This one is finishing graduate school for social work and likes to take her grandma to bingo. Plus, she definitely seems like the kind of girl who would wanna hold hands all the time." He grimaced as he finished. Bradley just gaped at the other aviator, rendered speechless, because Jake had just described his dream girl. Cute, smart, helpful, loving, independent, and kind. And if she agreed to a second date with Jake, then she was definitely interested in him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" "Oh shit, there she is," Jake grumbled, setting down his glass and heading toward the bar. Bradley stood up and stared as Jake approached a beautiful woman with a stunning smile. "Is he for real?" Bradley asked Phoenix in a dreamy voice. "She's awesome." "He's an idiot, but we already knew that," Phoenix told him with a smirk. "Why don't you go talk to her, Rooster. She's adorable." Bradley shook his head. "I can't, Nat. She's on a date with him!" But the more Bradley watched you and Jake together, it seemed like you weren't really into him either. You were smiling, but it wasn't reaching your eyes, and you had your arms crossed as Jake chatted with you. "Hmmm, fuck it," Bradley muttered as he took a deep breath and headed for the bar. ---------------------------------------- Jake was nice and attractive, but he wasn't really doing anything for you. And now you were starting to regret agreeing to meet him here. You'd been contemplating calling him all day and canceling for tonight and any future dates, but you ultimately decided to give it one more shot. But now you weren't paying any attention to him at all, because your eyes just landed on the most handsome man you'd seen in a long time walking up to the bar near where you were standing. He was literally the definition of tall, dark and handsome, and wearing a fun Hawaiian shirt. And he was looking right at you. You felt yourself smile at him like an idiot when he grinned at you from behind Jake. He had a mustache that somehow made him look cute and playful. You wished he would say something to you. Oh shit, you hadn't heard anything Jake was saying. You tried to pry your attention away from the newcomer, but then he rested a hand on Jake's shoulder and said, "Hey, Hangman, you gonna introduce me to your new friend?" His voice! You were biting the inside of your cheek to keep calm, because this man's voice was sexy. Like pillow talk sexy, and making out in a movie theater sexy. "Uh, sure," Jake replied, looking mildly annoyed. "Y/N, this is Rooster. Rooster, this is Y/N." "That's a pretty name," Rooster told you with a crooked grin, and it took you a second to realize he was talking about you. "Thanks," you replied with a laugh. "Rooster must be your call sign? You're an aviator, too?" "Yeah, my name's Bradley." "Bradley, it's nice to meet you." You liked his name, and his silly call sign. You liked the way he was looking at you and his kind brown eyes. "Jake didn't get you a drink? That's not very nice, Jake," Bradley said to your date who just shrugged. "I'll get you one. What do you want, Y/N?" You had to bite your lip before you accidentally replied with 'you'. "Gin and tonic," you told him, and you watched as he was instantly flagging down a bartender. His huge bicep was flexing below his sleeve as he leaned against the bar and turned toward you. "So, Jake was telling us all about you," he said, and you were surprised once again to find Jake was still in your proximity, because Bradley had your full attention now. "Really?" you asked, eyeing Jake, surprised he would have been telling anyone about you. There wasn't much to tell after the first date. He didn't seem that interested in you, and you hadn't even kissed him goodnight. "Yeah, he said you're getting a master's degree, and that you like volunteering and hanging out with your grandma," Bradley said, handing your drink to you when it arrived. "Um, yeah, I do," you said with a blush as Jake smirked at you. But you turned your attention back to Bradley when he spoke again. "That's cool. I volunteer with Big Brothers and Big Sisters as a youth mentor. And I used to love knitting with my grandma when I was a kid. I'm still pretty good at it, actually." Your jaw was hanging open, and you were having a hard time speaking. Was he for real? You took a sip of your drink and tried to gather your thoughts. Was it okay to ditch Jake and hang out with Bradley instead? "I volunteer a few times a week, but I always make sure I have time to take my Nana to bingo," you said with a laugh when Bradley smiled at you. "You're really a youth mentor?" "Yeah, last week I took some kids on a hike to the state park beach, and Wednesday evening I'm going to teach them how to bake a cake," he told you before finishing his beer and setting down the bottle. "That's sexy," you said, surprising yourself and Bradley. But you didn't regret saying it. Not one bit. Because Bradley's cheeks flushed pink, and your eyes were drawn to his scars that you were itching to touch. A startled laugh escaped his lips. "You think so?" "Yeah," you said, nodding your head fervently. Bradley shifted closer to you, and you noticed that Jake was nowhere to be found. ---------------------------------------

Bradley liked you. A lot. You were absolutely gorgeous to look at, but you were also smart and funny and interesting. The more he asked you about yourself, the more interested he was. You told him about school and your family and how much you loved going to the beach. And now you were so close to him, you were tracing his watch band with your fingers while you talked. "I think it's sweet that you used to knit with your grandma. Mine is practically a professional bingo player, she wins almost every week. And she's really cocky about it too," you said, and Bradley laughed. "She is! She likes to gloat about it when she plays shuffleboard." "She sounds fun," he told you. "And just so you know, I'm pretty good at bingo, and grandmas love me." "I'll bet they do." You actually giggled. He was making you giggle. God, he didn't want this night to end. He was trying to think of a way to ask you out, without making it awkward for you or Jake. "So what kind of cake are you baking on Wednesday?" you asked him playfully. "Not sure yet, but I was thinking about chocolate. You wanna come over and help?" Bradley couldn't explain it, but the idea of you helping him with the baking project had him excited. "You could stay and hang out afterwards. Maybe we could watch a movie together and have some of the cake?" "Are you asking me on a date while I'm technically still on a date with Jake?" you asked him with a grin. "Oh, your date with Jake ended a good thirty minutes ago," he informed you with a very serious look. "Now you're on a first date with me. You having fun?" You started laughing and looked away as your cheeks flushed. "A lot of fun, actually. I like you. You had me at youth mentor and really sealed the deal when you offered to feed me chocolate cake." Bradley couldn't stop smiling. "Can I get your phone number?" "Yes," you replied, and Bradley noticed you and he were standing so close now, your bodies were practically touching. He watched you type your name and number into his phone as he asked, "You'll come over on Wednesday then? For our second date?" "Yes," you replied, handing his phone back to him with a smirk, but your lips were twitching like you wanted to laugh. "Since we're going out now, is it cool if I kiss you?" Bradley asked with a smirk of his own. Your lips looked so soft, and Bradley really wanted to touch you. You smiled up at him and said, "That was pretty smooth," before running your fingers along his scarred neck and up into his hair, pulling him closer. Bradley leaned down until his lips met yours, and it was the perfect kiss. You were perfect for him. He put his hands around your waist and pulled you a little closer, kissing you a little deeper. When you pulled back, you pressed your lips together. "Text me your address and I'll be there on Wednesday. For cake baking assistance and our second date." "I will. I can't wait to see you again," Bradley replied, and it was the truth. Bradley walked you to your car, and with one more sweet kiss you were gone. When Bradley went back inside to settle his tab, Jake approached him. "You stole my date," Jake drawled, shaking his head but smiling. Bradley just grinned at Hangman. "It's pretty funny when you think about how she completely ditched you for me. Maybe I'll let you give a speech about it at the wedding."

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SO FLUFFY! Thanks for reading!

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ficsilike-reblogged · 9 months

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Take On Me

Summary: What happens when the love of Bob’s life finally makes a move…the night before he deploys? Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is an entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked a-ha’s song “Take On Me.” I hope y’all enjoy! This is Bob’s side story from my Jake series, Invisible Smoke. But you don’t need to read that to read this. Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, unprotected sex, cockwarming (?)/unrealistic post-sex activities, angst (with a happy ending), being bad at feelings

Bob didn’t particularly like nights before deployment. There were the obvious reasons—being shipped out and stuck on a carrier for weeks on end wasn’t exactly the best part of his job—but the pageantry of the night before, the dress whites, the careful goodbyes, that was what he really hated.

Natasha had dragged him to the Hard Deck so he could at least say goodbye to a few friends in person since he had already video called his family. He watched Natasha pull Bradshaw out onto the deck for a quieter moment alone. It was about time they got together. Bob had been one of the few who knew about her feelings for their fellow aviator and he had accidentally discovered that they were reciprocated a few days after the Uranium Mission. It really had been kind of ridiculous watching them dance around each other for months.

He was happy they were finally together. Really. Who wouldn’t be happy to see two of his closest friends be happy? But it really just twisted the dull knife behind his ribs that always came when Bob realized how alone he was. He didn’t have someone to say goodbye to like that.

Penny gave him another ginger ale with her usual sweet smile before he started back toward the table in the corner where he’d left his hat. He pushed through the crowd, earning a few slaps to his back and claps to his shoulders by other patrons who knew what awaited him in the morning, and settled back into his seat with a sigh. He scanned the crowd, seeing Harvard and Yale chat up two women on what looked like a bachelorette trip and then Payback and Mickey dancing with their wives near the jukebox. Payback’s wife, a stunning woman named Sidney, pulled back just enough to wipe tears from her cheeks. Payback gently knocked her hand away and finished for her before kissing her forehead. Bob turned away, feeling like he was intruding with a persistent tightness in his chest.

And his traitorous mind conjured your smiling face, bright and happy.

What Bob had with you was…nice. It was quiet and gentle and strictly platonic, right now. Bob would never understand how Hangman was the one to introduce you to him.

“Trust me, Baby on Board, you’ll love her. She’s perfect for you.”

Bob had been fully prepared to grit his teeth and bear whomever Seresin had deemed ‘perfect,’ and expected to meet an Instagram model or a gym buddy of his—not that there was anything wrong with them, they were usually lovely but just a little intense. But then you walked in.

You with your thick-rimmed glasses and soft smile and softer laugh.

While Jake bragged on your behalf, stating that you were the best CPA in the city, the only person he’d trust with his taxes, andthat Penny trusted you with the Hard Deck’s books, you fiddled nervously with the bendy straw Penny had given you in your little cup of pop.

It was Jake’s fiancée—a good friend of Bob’s who deserved the world, if anyone asked him—who quieted the man’s well-meaning rant with a hand on his arm. “I think he gets it. She is amazing.” The other woman winked and earned a soft smile from you before turning back toward her fiancé. “But you still owe me a game of pool, yeah?”

As the couple walked away, leaving you and Bob alone, your (beautiful) eyes tracked up to meet his gaze. Your smile was small and soft and you drummed your manicured nails against the plastic cup in your grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

And that was it, really. You had asked Bob if he knew how to play pool and then he offered to teach you. That led to soft giggles and missed trick shots and then quiet conversations about your lives and phone numbers exchanged before you parted ways for the night.

It was…good. Really. Even if it always teetered on the edge of becoming something more but never did.

Bob liked your good morning texts and the way you insisted on paying for brunch every time you invited him to try a new restaurant that just opened up. He liked that you didn’t mind helping him get the rest of the Daggers home from the Hard Deck if they had one drink too many. He liked that the people he trusted with his life liked you.

He…liked you. And he knew it was getting dangerously close to a different L word and that just had his mind circling back to how much he hated nights before deployments. You weren’t here. Bob didn’t blame you, of course. One of your more “difficult” clients had needed your attention immediately and had flown you out to Los Angeles about a week ago and Bob hadn’t wanted to disturb you with the news of the deployment. He’d asked Jake’s fiancée to tell you when you got back into town and he had an email queued up to be sent to you, too, crossing his fingers that he’d be able to still talk with you when you both had a moment to spare.

His gaze once again roamed around the bustling bar and unintentionally picked out all the couples. Dammit. Maybe, he just needed to get some sleep. He needed to be on the carrier early tomorrow morning anyway and wallowing in self pity wasn’t really a good waste of time. He finished his soda and waved to Penny and then placed a few bills on the bar to cover his tab before setting off toward the door.

This was good. He could get back to base and get some sleep before getting to the carrier just after dawn. But, as he moved around a rambunctious pair of lieutenants jockeying over their stances for darts, he nearly collided with a solid, soft body.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

Familiar hands pressed at his chest in a bid to stay upright and the scent of rose and amber immediately flooded his senses. And Bob knew immediately it was you.

Bob set his hands on your hips with a growing smile and watched the realization dawn on your face. “Bob!” A smile he could see in his dreams broke across your lips before you wrapped your arms over his shoulders in a tight hug. “I’m so happy I caught you. I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”

It took Bob a moment to shake himself free of the shock of your arrival and gave you a smile of his own. Some higher power was laughing at him right now (or maybe it was just Seresin) because Bob thought you’d never looked more beautiful in your short dress with buttons all the way down the front and strappy heels. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Your smile widened the slightest bit and you glanced at something over his shoulder, raising one hand to wave at someone. Bob turned in time to see Jake and his fiancée both raising their glasses in his direction. They knew. They had planned this.

But, when one of your hands swept over his shoulder to rest over his happily thrumming heart, all the embarrassment and gratitude he could have expressed at that moment crumbled away. He could deal with them later (and by ‘deal with them,’ Bob meant probably buy them a round and say thank you).

“Want to get out of here?” You asked, fingers brushing over the carefully arranged pins on his chest before thumbing at one of the ornate buttons of his jacket.

Bob knew you didn’t mean it like that, despite your wandering fingers, but he still had to suck in a quick breath to steady his thoughts before smiling. “Yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.”

You were quick to drop one of your hands to his, tugging him toward the door with a soft laugh he knew so well. The night air was tinged with salt water and the barest hint of spilled beer as soon as you stepped outside and down the handful of steps onto the parking lot. You gave him another smile over your shoulder as you started, “I hope you don’t mind-”

Bob fought the urge to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue for months and instead settled for, “you have to know that I never mind.”

You laughed again and shook your head but the noise quickly stalled when your foot connected when one of the concrete parking dividers and you nearly toppled for the second time that night. Bob tightened his grip on your hand and kept you upright with a quick tug that had you stumbling forward until you collided with his chest with a soft ‘oof’ and you laughed as you tucked your face into his jacket for a moment. You had a habit of doing that, hiding your smiles in the safety of Bob’s body. His neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. All of them had been places for you to squish your face. He never did mind, happily accepting any sort of physical affection you would bestow. Knowing you trusted him enough to keep you safe when you felt vulnerable.

Again, Bob knew he was dangerously close to that other word.

“I swear I haven’t had a drink at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” Your voice shook and Bob tried not to read too much into that either as you looked down and groaned. “Oh, maybe that’s why. My shoe’s come undone.”

Bob didn’t even blink before kneeling on the pavement and grasping at the delicate straps. He could feel the heat of your skin as he carefully threaded the strap through the buckle again and as he tugged it closed again, the pads of his fingers brushed against your ankle and you were just as soft as he imagined.

What he had not imagined was the shiver his simple touch would elicit from you. You let out a strange, stuttering breath as Bob looked up at you. Oh.

Maybe it was the growing adrenaline from the impending deployment, or maybe the way the low lights were reflecting in your eyes, or maybe it was a dawning realization that you could maybe feel the same as he did. His fingers trailed up your leg as he took his time standing, almost smirking when he felt how goosebumps raced across your skin.

Your next breath stuttered and Bob felt it against his neck as he finally stood straight and once again settled his hands on your hips.

“I um…” Your throat bobbed. “Th-thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

His position and training as a WSO had Bob picking up on minute details, but he’d always been that way. He was the kid who was delighted with a ladybug landing on his jeans when the rest of his family watched booming fireworks on the Fourth of July. So, he noticed when your eyes flickered down to his lips. You moved closer and your lips puckered.

You were going to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him.

But Bob didn’t move forward to close the distance, no matter how much he wanted to and he watched your face crumple.

“Bob?” Your voice was weak as he took a small step back; Bob didn’t let you go far and kept his hands firmly planted on your hips. He wouldn’t let you go. Not yet. “Did I do something wrong? I…I’m sorry. I thought-”

But he just shook his head, ducking his chin the slightest bit toward his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. I just want to make sure this is what you actually want and not because I’m shipping out in a few hours. Deployments make people think-”

You moved to grasp his face, trying to tilt his chin just enough to make him look at you again. There was a desperation in your gaze that let him know that you needed him to hear you, make him understand. “Bob, I can’t lie and tell you that this deployment has nothing to do with it, all right? But this is the first time you’re being sent away from me. I know these things can be dangerous. I know that. I’ve heard horror stories about…” You couldn’t even finish the thought and shook it away. Your thumbs pressed gentle arcs into his cheeks before you dropped your hold. “Let’s just get out of here, okay? We can pretend none of this happened and just go get ice cream and sit and silence and watch the water until you’re sick of me.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” Bob said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think of how that would sound to you.

An unsteady smile pushed at your mouth as you took a step backward and then another and another until you were leading him toward your car—Bob quickly redirected you toward his trusty GMC and opened the door for you with a smile of his own. The air in the truck’s cab was tense for a slow song or two, just long enough for you to squirm in your seat until Bob reached over and grabbed your hand.

He didn’t want to upset you—it wasn’t an outright rejection, not at all—he just wanted to be sure that you wanted him like he wanted you.

Bob didn’t do this. He didn’t spend the entire night talking, laughing, pretending he didn’t have to disappear for a few weeks. But with you it felt right. It felt like he should have been doing this with you for months. Years.

Ice cream was purchased at a small roadside shop and Bob pulled onto an overlook and shut off the truck, letting the dim moonlight fill the cab as you both quietly ate your sweet treat—strawberry for Bob, pistachio for you. It was calm and peaceful, a far cry from the noise of the Hard Deck, but he could feel when you started to get nervous again, curling your hands into the skirt of your dress for a moment before starting to fiddle with the cloth-covered buttons on the front.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the deployment?” You asked, and Bob could hear the trepidation in your voice. You turned in your seat to face him and Bob was quick to do the same and you both scooted a little closer to each other on the bench seat, legs awkwardly skirting around the stick shift. “I would have come home sooner.”

But Bob just shook his head and felt his nose scrunch as he tried to pick his words carefully. He didn’t stop until he felt you trail your finger across his brow, wordlessly telling him to relax. Bob couldn’t even remember when you had started doing it, but he had savored it every time and felt his shoulders slump while he finally found the words. He carefully reached up and grasped your hand, linking your fingers together for a moment. “I don’t think I knew how to say goodbye to you.”

You searched Bob’s face and he tried not to hope too much with the look in your eyes. “Bob, I… you don’t have to have anything special to say to me. But please just say something.”

Bob didn’t even realize he was moving until his lips were firm against yours, almost unyielding. Your glasses clicked together as his hand anchored itself on the back of your neck and tilted your face just so but neither of you seemed to mind. He could feel your smile against his mouth.

Your fingers sunk into his hair as his tongue slid against the seam of your lips. He’d give you anything anything anything, and this was no different. All his thoughts about the deployment, about what waited for him in the morning, flew out the window as he hauled you closer, pulling you onto his lap. The warmth of you immediately sank through the heavy fabric of his trousers and he groaned. The noise earned him a breathy sigh against his mouth and your hips sinking and rocking against his again.

“I wanted to do this right. I wanted to do this right with you,” Bob murmured against your mouth as his fingers swiftly undid the buttons down the front of your dress.

“You are,” you said, tone breathy and bordering on needy. “I promise you are. This feels right. Everything feels right with you.”

Bob’s fingers stalled and his bright blue eyes moved up your face until they were boring into yours. “Sweetheart…”

“I mean it,” you said. “Everything feels right with you.”

It might have been less of a shock for Bob if someone had hit him in the chest with a baseball bat. Something whispered at the back of his mind to tell you, to tell you now and make sure you were saying what he thought and hoped you were saying. But he didn’t. Because wouldn’t that be cruel? To draw that out of you before leaving for weeks at a time with no firm promise to return to you? So, instead he kissed you again and tried to press into his mind the way you felt against his mouth as he pushed your dress from your shoulders. He moved to press you down across the bench seat and licked at the thrumming pulse in your neck as he peeled the little scrap of lace down your legs and then shoved them into his pocket.

He would keep those.

Bob moved, knee knocking into the steering wheel for a moment, shoving himself between your thighs after shrugging off his jacket. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, your knee, your thigh, before nosing at your perfect hip bones.

“Bob,” you whined. “Bob, please.”

The salty tang of you was immediately addicting and Bob wrapped his arms over your thighs and dragged you closer closer closer with each flick and twist of his tongue. He could do this forever. He shouldn’t have waited this long.

Your fingers curling through his hair knocked any other thought right out of his head and all that was left was you you you and how your thighs clamped over his ears as you came.

When your legs stopped shaking enough, you hooked your hands behind his head and hauled him up, pressing a rushed, sloppy, perfect kiss against his mouth. Bob’s hands skimmed over the soft skin of your thighs as he settled between them, feeling your wet heat soak his skin.

“Please,” you whispered against his mouth. “Please.”

Bob’s knee hit the horn when he went to shove his trousers and briefs down and he was embarrassed only for a moment but laughed along with you as you dragged him back into your hold, kissing him sweetly as you helped him move back into the cradle of your thighs. You felt divine. Warm, wet, and tight…and perfect. And every movement felt even better. You were clawing at his back as Bob mouthed at the swells of your breasts. You were everywhere, he was everywhere, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whimpered when he raised his head again to lick into your mouth.

Faster and faster, Bob drove into you until you were shaking in his grip, sighing against his spit-slick lips and Bob was quick to follow, collapsing over you and hips rutting into yours lazily in a mindless haze until you whined against his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured as he maneuvered just enough to press up onto his forearms on either side of your head. Bob didn’t move to pull out, not just yet, enjoying your warmth for a little longer. Just a little longer.

You were beautiful. Sweaty and makeup smudged, you were gorgeous. Bob trailed a finger across your cheek, catching a tear as it slid from your eye.

“Sweetheart?” Did he hurt you? Did something happen-

“Stay with me?” Your eyes were wide and pleading as your grip tightened on his shoulders just a fraction. “Just… Can we just stay like this a little longer?”

Something in Bob’s chest twisted, almost uncomfortable, almost too close to that other word. But still, he said, “of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

The conversation that followed was soft and quiet, filled with everything and nothing, and Bob’s eyes slowly closed with the sound of your heart and the waves outside lulling him to sleep.

A noise woke Bob up some time later. It could have been a passing car or the waves against the shore, it didn’t matter, really. It was still before dawn, the sky an inky shade of blue. He turned to the side, his back protesting the slightest bit, and saw you beside him. Your mouth was parted with sleep, soft breaths escaping in deep, even intervals.

You were beautiful.

And he had to let you go.

You hardly remembered waking up and getting dressed again. But you remembered leaning out of the truck to straighten Bob’s hat atop his head. Last night had been perfect and tinged with some sort of unspoken melancholy. Why had you waited so long? “Can I…can I come with you to the carrier? Wave you off?” It was a selfish ask, but you wanted more time, just a little more to cling to before your heart leapt out from between your ribs to try to follow him out to sea. For one of the few times in your life, you knew it wasn’t better to be safe than sorry. You had to take a chance.

Bob’s unfairly pretty blue eyes nearly sparkled in the low light of dawn as he smiled at you. “Of course, sweetheart.”

The ride out to the carrier was quiet aside from Bob asking if you could drop his truck off with Bradshaw. You readily agreed and hated how your stomach twisted when he parked. The imposing behemoth of a ship loomed on the horizon and you walked beside Bob, his duffel in hand, as you weaved through the early morning crowd. He slowed to a stop a few paces away from the carrier’s ramp and turned back to you.

You watched his jaw flex, tight and wanting, and you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you had felt for months, and you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue but they crumbled to nothing when the carrier blared its horn, calling everyone in and pulling Bob’s attention for a moment.

Tears started to build at the backs of your eyes as the carrier blared its horn for a second time. You had to let him go. You just learned what it was like to have him, and you had to let him go.

Bob turned back to you and you recognized the determined set of his jaw as he reached for you after dropping his bag at his feet. His hands smoothed up your arms and hooked at the back of your neck, thumb pressing an incessant pressure at the hinge of your jaw. You could have melted then, you were puddy in his hold and it almost made it worse. “I shouldn’t ask you this. It’s selfish and cruel-”

“Ask me anyway,” you said, the syllables cracking in your throat.

“Will you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me? I know it is a lot to ask, to take me on and-”

Those damn tears came back and you surged forward to press your lips to his again. The kiss was unhurried and uncoordinated but you couldn’t pull away. Not just yet. Not until your lungs burned and your cheeks felt cold. “I’ve been waiting for you for months. What’s a few weeks more?”

Bob’s smile was small but you knew you’d remember it for the rest of your life. He kissed you, soft and breathless, before scooping up his duffel again and walking backward toward the ramp. He was keeping his eyes on you. And you wouldn’t look away. Not now.

In eight weeks’ time, you’d be back here, ready and waiting. And you knew he’d come home. To you.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

#Bob Floyd x reader #robert Bob Floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert Bob Floyd fic #tgm fic #tgm #female reader #top gun rocktober

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sunnysidevans · 2 years

Text

If You Only Knew - J.Seresin

Synopsis: Everyone has a highschool sweetheart, Jake Seresin had his Top Gun sweetheart, the woman he was gonna marry. A night of anger pushes the two of you apart. If you only knew Jake just wanted three things, love, a family and you.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mitchell!Reader // Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader (plationic)

Warnings: 18+ , angst, mentions of death,mentions of miscarriage, mentions of violence, mentions of depression , soft Bradley & eventually soft Jake, fluff. Top gun spoilers(kinda).

authors notes: I just want to say, please read the warnings for this fic as there are mentions of things that could possibly be triggering. I also just hope everyone enjoys this as I have put alot into this fic. Happy Reading.

italics are flashbacks. - bold are text messages.

Friday night.

The day where everyone reflects on the week and try to forget about it. The Hard Deck swarmed with people wanting to unwind from their week whether it was good, bad or ugly. Friday nights also meant the bar swarmed with Naval Aviators.

They followed one another easily, it filled quickly. By the time you clocked in for your shift, the bar was now filled with all khakis. “Get your butt over here!” Penny yells with a grin, serving the man in front of her with a kind smile.

“Comin I’m comin!” you chuckle, pushing behind the bar with a smile. Turning in your spot, stopping at the man smiling at you.

“Dad?” he laughs, looking you over.

“Don’t look so surprised to see your father” he smirks, watching the smile that makes it's way onto your face. Turning back around, you reach down and grab a glass, filling it with his usual.

“I thought you were in the desert” you say, watching the foam in the glass. Setting down infront of him, he shrugs.

“Top gun calls, I answer” smirking with a shake of your head. “Uncle Ice calls, you answer” you chuckle as he nods. He watches Penny move around the bar. “Say something would you,” you laugh watching as he rolls his eyes, Penny making her way over to him. As the door continued opening with Aviators. None of them meant a thing.

As the two of them flirted back and forth, you sighed. Aviators always flirted, sending winks your way and extra tips to go the extra mile. None of them were him. Two years of you denying winks and throwing away napkins with phone numbers.

You hated that you let yourself fall under his spell. It was easy to, he was blonde, green eyed and smooth talking. You tried to fault yourself as it was something you grew up around. It would be obvious for you to go out with one, almost marry him.

“(Y/N)” looking up at the sound of your name, smiling over your shoulder at your father. Moving to stand beside Penny, she smirks. “Get him another beer would ya” she sends him a wink, walking to the other side of the bar. You smile, taking his glass. “You look lost” he says, watching your face as you shrug. “I feel lost,” you say, smiling at him and setting the glass in front of him.

“You saved yourself as your mother would say, never marry an aviator” you shrug. “But Aunt Carol and Uncle Goose were happy” he sighs, nodding. “I know, you had a better role model in them than us” he sighs, resting his hand on top of yours.

“It’s okay to be upset, but I also want you to know, it’s okay to move on” he nods. What your father wasn't saying was he knew that he was gonna be strolling in the door and your life anytime now. That he was also called back to Top Gun, along with your best friend. Looking up at the sound of the door opening, your breath catches in your throat.

Bradley Bradshaw stood in all his glory standing at the door aviators resting on his nose with the Hawaiian shirt loose on his body. “One second dad” you send him a smile, moving around the bar.

“Bradley!” he looks over at the sound of his name, a smile making its way on his face.

“Hey you” you're running to him, colliding with his body as he catches you. “Oh my god” you whisper, more to yourself than him as he grins. Bradley Bradshaw was the one man you could count on, minus your father.

“I missed you so much" you are hugging him tighter as he laughs. “I missed you too Dove” he squeezes your arms, pulling apart from you. “Wait” you say looking up at him. “Are you back at Top Gun?” you ask, hands resting on his arms. He nods, smiling at you. “I got called back just a few hours ago” he says.

There was never romantic feelings between the two of you. Just sibling love, you spent all your summers at the Bradshaw home while Goose and your father were on deployments.

“You are staying with me, no ifs ands or buts" you say with a smile. He laughs, nodding. “Okay, I’ll be over in a few hours'" you nod, looking him over. “Let me get you a beer'' He follows you to the bar, avoiding eye contact with your father completely. You never knew what happened between the two of them but chose to never intervene.

“A beer for you Lieutenant” you smile, setting the beer infront of him. “Go have fun” you shoo him off towards his friends. “Bradshaw, Is that you?” the female voice yells as you smile.

“Go” you encourage him. You missed the rest of the group coming in. You look over at your dad with a sad smile. His focus is back on Penny, who is smirking at him. Within seconds the bell is ringing and the bar is full of cheers. “Oh god” you laugh, looking at Penny and then back at him. “So, did you disrespect the Navy or put your phone” you look down at the phone in front of him “on the bar”.

He shakes his head with a smile, sipping from the beer he had in front of him quietly. Moving around the bar, you handed drinks out as quickly as they came once the bell rang, everyone came for refills.

“Penny my dear, I’ll have four more on the old timer”

Your blood ran cold. You knew that voice instantly. You kept your back turned, head down and out of his eyesight. “Sure Hangman” she smiles grabbing the four beers. She sees the tension in your shoulders choosing to ignore it as she sets the beers in front of him. “Thanks pops” he winks.

Jake Seresin knew exactly what he was doing. It was almost three years ago they sat at the same bar discussing the ring that sat against his chest.

“You want to marry my daughter?” Maverick asks, looking at the blonde aviator beside him. “I do” he nods his hands around his beer bottle, eyes focused on the condensation as it rolled down onto his palms. “Why?” he asks, watching the man's shoulders slouch.

“She’s the only woman who’s-who’s put up with my shit” he chuckles, looking over at him. Maverick smiles, “because she’s had to put up with mine for so long, she understands” he nods, reaching over to give his shoulder a squeeze.

“You love her?” Jake nods eagerly, looking over at the man beside him. “I love her so much sir” his voice is soft but your father hears him loud and clear. “Okay, then you can marry her” Jake can’t help the smile that makes its way to his lips. “Really?” Maverick laughs, “Really”.

“Penny, I-I’ll be back” your voice is soft, tossing the towel on to the bar. Pushing through the sea of people and through the kitchen doors. Bradley watches from his side of the bar, furrowing his brows.

“I’ll be right back” he cuts Phoenix off as he sets his pool stick in Bob’s hands. “Dove?” his voice is soft when he pushes through the doors, looking around the kitchen. “Bradley you can not be back here” your voice is soft, strained. He hears you sniffle.

Jake nods in Mavericks direction as a silent thank you, the two may not like the other but he was raised to be respectful. He makes his way back to his friends, Coyote notices his shift. “What is it?” he asks his best friend, taking the beer from his awaiting hands.

“Maverick is at the bar, bought our beers” he says, sipping his drink. “Like as in (Y/N)’s father?” he inquires, Jake nods. “Is she here?” Coyote asks, watching his best friend. “I think so, she loves this place” he says over the rim of his beer.

“Dove” Bradley whispers, looking down at you with his brown puppy dog eyes. “Why are you crying?” he asks, hands resting on your arms as he stands in front of you. Holding back another round of tears, you squeeze his arm gently.

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head. “I saw the way your body reacted and the way you can’t even talk to me without crying” he reaches up, catching the stream of tears with his thumb. “It’s Hangman, what is he doing here?” you whisper, looking up at him. He nods, his mind going back to the last two years.

“I know, I swear I had no idea he would be here” you nod, looking at your best friend. He pulls you into his chest, giving your body an additional squeeze.

“Overboard, Overboard!” the bar crowd yelled, pulling you from Bradley’s arms. "Oh god” you sigh, pushing out the swinging kitchen doors. Jake hooks one arm under Mavericks armpits, Javy on the other. Watching the two of them with your hands on your hips and a shake of your head.

“Jake Seresin, get your hands off my father!” you yell over the chants.

It took a lot to strike fear in Jake Seresin but there were two people in the world who can make the hairs on his neck stand. His mother and you.

He turns around at the sound of your voice, arm dropping from Maverick's arm, “You too Javy,”. Making your way to the bar, looking at your dad. “Go home please” you whisper, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He nods, standing slowly.

“Come back and pay Penny tomorrow” you say as he is walking out the front door. Turning around, you face both men who stare at you dumbfounded. “Hi” Javy speaks first, looking at you with a side smile.

You had to admit, he was the nicer one of the pair. “Hi Javy'' you nod, sending him a soft smile. “What are you still doing here?” Jake asks, looking you over. You looked just as beautiful as you did when he left. “I work here dipshit” you look over at him, hands on your hips.

He nods, watching your face. “I-I expected you move on, somewhere far from Fightertown" he says. Javy takes that as his que to leave and makes his way back to the pool tables. “It’s nice to see you,” Jake says, looking at you with a smile. “I want to say the same Jake, I do”. He nods slowly, watching you. “Is it not?” he asks as he leans against the bar, you sigh. “No, it hurts me more to see you than it does to wish you weren’t here” you say, turning back to the bar with Penny.

The bar had finally cleared out , the last gentleman paying the last of his hefty bill. It left you and Penny in the empty bar. You tried to tell her you could close all on your own but she insisted. “Was it weird seeing him?” you ask, looking at her over your shoulder.

She has her back to you as she stacks chairs onto tables. “You know how I feel about your father (y/n)” you nod, biting your lip.

“I know, I just got a little worried I guess” you admit, setting the glass down and moving onto the next. “Why?” hands on her hips, she turns to face you. “I thought if seeing my dad again you’d let me go” you shrug, back still to her.

“Oh my gosh (y/n)” she’s moving to stand infront of you. “I love you and I love having you here so no, I’d never let my feelings for your dad dictate that” you nod, sending her a sad smile.

Her mother instincts kick in then, looking over your face. Still tear stained from the tears you tried so hard to hide from her. “What happened tonight?” she whispers, looking over your face.

“Jake Seresin happened” she furrows her brows, thinking back to the night. “Hangman is my ex-fiance” you say, looking back down at the glass, shining the same spot over and over. “What?” she asks, looking at you with wide eyes. “Jake and I were engaged about two years ago” her brain thinks back, nodding.

“I remember, he went overseas right?” you nod.

“I mean there was of course more to it but that was our breaking point” you say. “Seeing him brought back all those things again” you say, biting back the tears that made their way into your lash line. “Hey” she reaches over, hand resting on yours.

“If fate wanted it this way, then fate wanted it to be this way” she grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “I can’t get rid of your dad so I mean, that’s fate for us” you can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face. “I know” nodding, you set the glass down.

The bar door opens and Penny turns to yell at whoever it was. Jake stands there with his hands at his sides, a shy smile on his lips. “Hangman, we’re closed” she puts a hand on her hip. “I know, I uh-” he rubs the back of his neck, biting his lip. He was nervous.

“I wanted to talk to (y/n)” he says. She looks over at you, a knowing look on her face as you shake your head. “I won't be far” she whispers, walking back to the kitchen. Jake makes his way to the bar, sitting in front of you. He watches as you continue shining the glass, avoiding his eye.

“Please look at me” his voice is soft, almost pleading. You look up from the glass, sighing. “What is it?” you ask, setting the glass down , resting your hands on your hips. “It really is nice to see you,” he says, looking over your face.

It’s then he notices the tear stains, as well as the way you continued to avoid his eye. “You look good” you say with a sad smile, looking over his face. You notice the crinkle in his eyes as his signature smirk makes itself known. “I know,” he admits, causing a soft chuckle to fall from your lips. “What do you want to talk about?” you ask. “I want to catch up,'' he adjusts on the stool.

“Maybe take you out to dinner?” he asks hesitantly as you sigh. “I don’t know Jake..” you whisper. “Please?” his eyes are pleading. If you only knew this was something he longed for.

The chance to see you again. The homecomings of everyone else getting to see their wives, remembering that it was almost the two of you.

He always kept your first homecoming in the back of his mind, everytime he flew.

You stood in the airport with a big neon pink sign. You knew it was cheesy and far from something your boyfriend wanted but you had to go big for him and his best friend’s return.

“WELCOME HOME LIEUTENANT’S!” The two men laugh as they come down the escalator. “That’s your girl” Javy whispers to his best friend as he laughs, nodding. “She is, I can’t say I’d trade her for the world” he smiles. Making their way to you, smiling. Dropping his bag, Jake catches your body as it collides with his, hugging him tightly as a koala would stick to a human.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, he can hear your sobs. “Sweetheart” his voice is soft, reserved for you and you only. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you mumble as you're pulling away from his neck with a wide teary-eyed smile.

“God you look as good as you did when I sent you off” you grin, cupping his cheek. Javy scoffs beside him, shaking his head.

“Hi” you grin as Jake sets you to your feet, hugging Javy just as tightly. “Hi” he chuckles. Jake and Javy always knew you’d be there with awaiting arms to greet the both of them.

“Okay” your voice pulls him from his thoughts, looking back up at you. “I’ll text you?” he asks, biting his lip. “Sure” you nod, sending him a soft smile. He was shocked his number wasn’t deleted and blocked. “Are you gonna make it home safe?” he asks, standing from the stool. You nod, looking at him, “I will, Bradley is gonna pick me up” he nods slowly.

Bradley Bradshaw was a man of many things and he always managed to get under his skin. “Okay, let me know when you make it?” he asks in almost a whisper. You smile, Jake was a knight in shining armor, he wore his gear proudly to protect the ones he loved, you included. “I will Jake” he smiles, walking to the door, turning to face you one last time.

“Goodnight sweetheart" he smiles at the soft blush on your cheeks.

“Goodnight Jake” you send him a soft smile.

It was a week before you found out the reason they were brought back to Fightertown. They were pulled back to Top Gun for a special mission, a dangerous detachment that none of the pilots in your life could talk about.

You only knew the basics that it was dangerous and that someone could possibly not come back alive. Bradley sat across from you at the bar, a sad smile on his lips.

“He’s insufferable, how could you have possibly almost married him?” he asks, eyes landing on Hangman from over your shoulder. “He was very charming, '' you say, setting the new full beer bottle in front of him. “He’s gonna get someone killed if not himself” you nod, his words falling on deaf ears.

Jake Seresin held himself to a high standard, as soon as he joined the Navy he swore to himself that no one to ever see his flaws and to never let them see him fail.

“Sweetheart” you look up at the sound of his voice, looking at him over your shoulder with raised brows. He sends you the same smile that he always reserved for you, soft and full of love.

“What is a gorgeous thing like you doin back there servin beers?” Jake smiles at you, leaning his elbows on the bar. You turn to him with a raised brow, chuckling.

“Because some of us don’t fly planes for a living, '' you say with a chuckle, setting the fresh beer in front of him. His smile was wide and somehow soft. “How did you know I fly planes for a living?” he asks, his head tilting slightly.

You chuckle with a shake of your head, “I know your type plus I know what a pilot looks like '' looking him up and down you sigh. “And you fit the part,” you grin.

He stood in his civilian clothes, a pair of dark wash wrangler jeans and a simple dark green polo. “I’m at the Fighter Weapons School here on base” he says with a smirk, you laugh. “You are a Top Gun pilot?” you ask, his brows raise.

“You know about Top Gun?” he asks, your laugh continues. “My father graduated from Top Gun '' you say proudly. “My uncle runs the school” his eyes widened, “Iceman is your uncle?”. You nod, looking him up and down.

Jake Seresin knew at that moment, he’d marry the woman behind the bar.

“Same as always?” you ask. He nods, watching Rooster over your shoulder. The two men shared a similar look, both ready to pounce if one said the wrong thing. “Can you two not kill each other?” you ask, looking between the two of them. Setting the beer in front of Jake, you smile. “Here” his grin grows. “Thanks sweetheart” he winks, the blush makes its way to your cheeks.

You were his sweetheart, people had their highschool sweethearts, college sweethearts, you were Jake Seresin’s Top Gun sweetheart.

“Gross'' Bradley whispers more to himself as he sips his beer. You let out a heavy sigh. “He’s just being nice Brad” he rolls his eyes. “He wants you back, don't you know?” he says, looking at you.

“He’s gonna leave again Bradley and I’m not putting my heart through that. I’m here for when he returns to North Island and nothing more” you say with more bite behind your bark.

He holds his hands up in defense, “I’m sorry”. You shake your head, looking at him, “I know you don’t know exactly what happened but trust me, my heart can’t take that” he nods, watching the look on your face.

He didn’t miss the look of sadness that you quickly covered with a smile.

Locking the door behind yourself, you sigh. The Hard Deck never fails to tire you out but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“Need a ride?” you jump, looking over your shoulder at the voice. Jake stood at the end of the Hard Deck stairs, leaning on the post. You sigh, shoving the keys back into your purse. “I can walk" you say, shoving your hands into your pockets.

“I just want to talk (y/n)” he says, looking you over. “I know, but I-I don’t know if I’m ready for that” it felt weird voicing your thoughts out loud. Jake nods, hands in his pockets. “I never meant for this to be how we turned out, '' he says.

The rain poured heavily outside. It continued to slam against the windows. “I am heading to Germany in literally two days time, are you serious?” his voice was sharp,his eyes even sharper as he looked at you. “Yes” you are looking up at the man infront of you.

“Yes Jake, I’m sorry that you are going to Germany and could possibly have a child by the time you come back! Whenever that could be!” you yell, standing your ground. A late period starting the whole argument.

“I can’t have a child (y/n), I can’t possibly go to Germany and know that's happening here!” he defends, hands on his hips. “Jake, I understand that but what about me?! You are leaving me here!” you defend as he shakes his head. “You know how I feel about children, how could you let this happen?” you scoff, looking at him.

“Me?! You are the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!” you yell back. The thunder outside was no louder than your thoughts. “Jake, it’s me, we're gonna get married and start a family” he scoffs.

“Did you cheat on me?” The silence could be cut with a dull knife.

“Excuse me?” you ask, looking him up and down. “Did you cheat on me? There's no way that it could possibly be mine” you laugh. You laugh in his face. “I can’t believe you” you shake your head and begin pacing the kitchen. He sighs, hands on his hips.

“I don’t think we should get married,” he says in a whisper.

“I mean, my career is taking off, I could land a captain spot anyday and I don’t think I need this tying me down” he doesn’t miss the softness in your voice. You nod, pulling the engagement ring off of your finger and shoving it in his hands.

“Get out” you shove past him, ignoring him and the thunder that boomed outside of your once loving home.

Within three days you were sitting empty on the bathroom floor, the pink stick held tightly in your hands as you saw the lines that confirmed your biggest fear.

You were pregnant.

The pouring rain felt good on your burning skin, you went to the once place you knew you could. Pounding on the door, you ignore the ache in your chest as you hold the stick tightly in your hands. “Oh my god” Sarah’s voice is soft as she takes you in.

Tears now running with the rain as you stood soaked on her doorstep. “I-Is uncle Ice here?” you're whimpering as she’s pulling you out of the cold. “Tom!” she yells for her husband who worked at his desk upstairs. “What is it sweetheart?” he stops at the top of the stairs as he takes in your state.

In the days of Tom Kazansky raising his own children, you meant as much to him as his oldest daugher. “(y/n)” he’s rushing down the steps, wrapping you in his arms. You sob into his hard chest as he nods to Sarah, “get me a towel”.

He ignores the pink stick in your hand, he ignores the voice in his head that urges him to call your father. Even though he was off on a detachment that sent him to a different side of the world.

“I’ve got you honey” he’s kissing your forehead gently, swaying your shaking body.

“Sweetheart, you with me?” his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up at him.

“Why didn’t you want a family with me?” you ask with a shakyness. “Why was I not enough to hold onto in Germany?” you're crying now. He’s taking the steps two at a time, making his way to you. “I should’ve never said those things to you” he says, stopping infront of you.

“I should have been honest with you and told you I didn’t think I was ready to be a father, a husband” he takes your hand. You shake your head, pulling your hand from his.

“I suffered alot while you were in Germany, I should not have gone through that alone and I did Jake '' you say, voice shaking. Stepping away from him, his face turns to confusion. “I took a test about three days after you left,” you say, hugging yourself as you turn away from him.

“It was positive,” you whisper. “I carried our babyboy for about two months, then I had a miscarriage” your voice shakes. “I suffered that loss with no one, not even my dad” you sigh, wiping your cheeks. “So I can’t just forgive you so easily Jake” turning to face him, his own tears began rolling down his cheeks.

"I had no idea if you were even alive” you say.

“I kept everything” he says, looking from your face to his shoes.

“What?” you ask, looking at him with furrowed brows. “If you only knew that I kept your letters, I kept your ring” he pulled the chain from his shirt, looking at you as the ring sat tucked between his dog tags.

“If you only knew that I couldn’t sleep for months on the carrier, Rooster had to listen to me toss and turn for days” he says, watching your face. “The only thing that got me through Germany was you” he looks away, letting his tears fall freely.

“You never mentioned our son in your letters” he says with his own voice breaking. “I know, I didn’t think you cared” the admission hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

“I did, I cared about you for so many years (y/n), I still care about you”.

The sound of gravel pulls the two of your eyes away from each other. Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, hands on his hips. “Hangman” his tone was defensive. “(y/n), you okay?” he asks, climbing the stairs.

“I’m okay Brad, I promise” you say with a smile. “I think we should talk about this another time” you say, looking at Hangman. “You have an important mission coming up, you gotta be on your game” walking past him, you pat his shoulder in support.

“(y/n)” his voice is pleading, looking at you. “I love you” shaking your head, you sigh. “Good luck Jake” you make your way down the steps and to the Bronco.

Jake can’t help the chill that runs down his spine at the daggers Rooster sent his way. He knew Bradley loved hard and if you hurt someone he loved, he came with a vengeance.

Bradley ignored the tears stained on your cheeks as he started the car, driving towards your shared apartment.

The apartment was a mess. Bradley couldn’t ignore the nag in the back of his mind, this wasn’t you. “Dove?” he asks through the apartment. He had no idea if you were even here. “Roos?” you try to stand from the bathroom floor, wiping your mouth with a towel.

He catches you before you can make it off the floor, looking you over. “Hi” your voice is hoarse from the last twenty minutes of vomiting.

You are sniffling as his brown eyes soften. “I-I’m sorry I wasn’t there-” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “What is going on?” he asks, moving into the bathroom dropping all of his bags at the door.

Shaking your head and holding your arms out to him, he helps you off the cold floor. “I missed you” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “I missed you too, now tell me what’s going on, are you sick?” he asks with worry in his voice. It’s then he notices the small bump.

“You're pregnant?” he asks as you nod slowly,looking up at him as the tears begin to cascade down your cheeks like a river.

“Dove?” you look over at the sound of Bradley's voice. “You okay?” he’s whispering, the Bronco now parked in the apartment parking lot. “No,” you admit, looking at him.

His eyes soften, he takes your state in then. “I told him” your voice breaks as you admit it, looking away from him as if he'd be disappointed in you. “I told him I lost our baby and-” its then a sob falls from your lips.

“Hey” he’s reaching over, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay” he’s smiling sadly at you. “He told me he kept all my letters and-" you're hyperventilating now, looking at him.

“Why did he keep them if he didn’t love me enough to stay Roos?”

You ask and his heart breaks for you. “Let’s get you inside” he’s climbing out of the driver side, making his way to the passanger side. Your body falls into him as he helps you out. Scooping you up in his arms, he carries your body up five flights of stairs to the apartment the two of you were sharing.

By the time he makes his way to the front door, he notices your body had relaxed and your sobs quieted down, you had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight dove,” he lays you down and tucks the covers around your body, leaning down kissing your forehead gently.

He will be having a long conversation with Hangman tomorrow.

The California sun was hot. Beating down on the pilots as they dripped with sweat. Standing on the deck beside Penny, you grin. “Are you having fun eye-fucking my father?” you ask, startling her.

She drops the pen she was holding, looking up at you with a smile. Your face was swollen, she chose to ignore it.

“Maybe” she grins, looking back out at the game. Following her gaze, you smile at the pilots, missing the way the altercation on the sand looked nothing more than a simple game of football.

Rooster pushes Hangman as they both go for the ball, not missing the way he’s being a bit aggressive for a game of football.

“What the fuck Bradshaw!” he’s yelling, standing from the sand, looking at the mustached man. “Really?!” he throws his hands up. “How does it feel to be pushed around Hagman!” He points at Jake, standing taller than the blonde aviator.

“Excuse me?” Jake tries sizing him up, looking up at Rooster.

“You came back here and broke her heart all over again, Hangman” he pushes Jake's chest. The man stumbled slightly, and then he laughs, Jake Seresin laughs in his face.

“That has nothing to do with you” Rooster shakes his head, his own sinister laugh. “It does when I’ve picked up the pieces more times than you have! You know what she asked me? She asked me why you didn’t love her enough to stay and truly I think we’re all waiting for that answer!” he yells, and before he knows it, his fist is connecting with Jake’s jaw.

“That’s for my sister you fucker!” he yells as Maverick is between the two of them, pushing their chests away from the other.

“What is going on?!” Maverick yells, looking between the two panting men. “Hangman is a worthless excuse for a man” he pants, seething as Phoenix holds him back.

“What is he talking about?” he asks the blonde. You stand on the steps watching them, quickly making your way down the sand. as soon as you noticed Rooster swing. “What is going on?” you ask, standing behind the group.

“Jake was finally gonna tell us what happened” Rooster pants, his hand gripping phoenix's comfortingly. “How he got you pregnant and left you picking up the pieces all alone” he spits “living up to your call-sign aren't ya?”.

Maverick looks between the pilots, then back at you. The color in your face is gone.

“Is that true?” Maverick asks, looking between you and then back at Jake. His green eyes meet yours, then looking back at your fathers. “Yes” his voice is hoarse. His jaw is sore but he knows it doesn’t compare to the pain you've felt.

“That’s how our engagement ended, but Bradley” you look over at him, his eyes softening. “There was no need for you to air out Jake and I’s dirty laundry” you snarl. You meet your dad’s softening eyes, “you are all dismissed” he says.

He makes his way beside you, wrapping you in his arms. “When did this happen?” he whispers as the group makes their way up to The Hard Deck.

“You were in the desert, about two years ago, I went to Uncle Ice” you whisper, hugging him just as tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he admits. You shake your head against his chest, squeezing him. "It's not your fault dad” he kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hairline. “I will make him do extra training,extra push ups if I don’t kill him first” he smiles as you chuckle.

“I’ll have a beer Penny” Jake’s voice is soft as she sends him a glare. She never was one to discriminate against a customer but she knew your pain. She went through almost the same pain with your father. “I should kick you out of my bar” she seeths, setting the bottle down in front of him, “but I won't because I know that’s not what she would want” he nods with a sigh.

“I really do love her Penny” he looks up at the woman, who shakes her head. “You need to prove it, Hangman” she makes her way over to Bradley with a smile.

“I’m sorry for causing a scene” he apologies to Penny as she shakes her head. “You are just being a big brother, I understand” she smiles giving him the opened beer.

“What the hell man?” Coyote sits beside his best friend, looking over his face. “I know” he admits, setting the bottle down, letting the amber liquid run down his throat. “I’m not proud of it,” he says, looking over at Coyote. “I told her I didn’t want a family, I-I accused her of cheating on me. I told her my career was more impaortant than a family” he scoffs at himself, “sick”. He sips the beer again.

“You need to fix this man,” he says to his best friend. Jake nods, looking out at the beach at you and Maverick, talking and hugging. He knew the rocky relationship the two of you had. “I know”.

Maverick stood at the door, he hated having to do this. He watched as you and Penny danced around the other, Bradley stood beside him. You stood at the bar standing beside Penny,looking between your father and Bradley, they stood dressed in their whites.

“The mission got moved up” Maverick says, his eyes falling to Penny with sympathy. “Go” you whisper to her, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze as the two of them go outside.

“Dove” looking up at the sound of Rooster’s voice. You tried to wrap your head around the timing.

A week ago, Jake was walking back into your life as well as Bradley and your father, now they were leaving again. Four days ago you finally told the love of your life the two years of hell you went through without him.

Now, they are leaving. “I think you should talk to Hangman” your eyes snap up to his brown ones, they held sympathy. “Why?” you ask, looking him up and down. He looked just like his father.

“We may not come back from this,” he says. “You better come back from this Bradshaw” you didn’t mean for it to come out so mean. He laughs with a nod, he knows you didn't mean it. “I will do my best, I got my girls to think about” he smiles at the smile on your face. He meets you halfway around the bar, wrapping you in a tight hug.

“I love you, Dove” he whispers as you squeeze him tighter. “I love you too, Rooster”. After a tearful goodbye with your father between both you and Penny, you reach for your phone.

Jake's phone pulls him from his thoughts, looking down at the message across the screen.

Sweetheart: I need to see you.

His heart sank as another followed,

Sweetheart: meet me at the hard deck in 15?.

You were nervous, chewing on your lip as you looked at Penny. “Bradley is right, you need to talk to him” she smiles as you nod, looking down at your phone.

Read: 9:45pm.

You scoff, shoving the phone back into your pocket. Twenty minutes later you find yourself sitting on the sand. Penny shoved you out the door to take a break. “I thought I’d find you out here” turning around, you meet Jake dressed in his whites, hat in hand. You stand, looking him over, he smiles shyly.

“I need to say a few things” you say, looking over his face as he nods. “Go ahead” he says, moving to stand in front of you. “I-I still love you, I know seeing you has brought these things to the surface that I thought I could avoid” you avoid his eye as you continue.

“The things you said to me two years ago and then the way you act now, I-I want to forgive you” you look up at him, his eyes sharing a similar hopefulness. "I don't want to love another human being as much as I love you." Your voice shakes as you continue, "I don't want to give my heart to a stranger all over again" looking over his face, his eyes were so full of love, love you hadn't seen in years.

“I don’t want you to go on the mission thinking about me and your mistakes and-” he cuts you off then, his lips meeting yours for the first time in three years. It takes you a minute to catch up and when you do, you are pulling him by his jacket closer to you.

“I think about you every time I fly, I have since the day I walked into that bar” he whispers against your lips, nudging your nose with his. “But since the day I went overseas, I’ve held you closer to my heart” he admits. “If you only knew how much I love you” he says as his breath fans over your face.

“If you only knew that I kept everything, every photo, every text message, every letter and your goddamn ring, I kept the key to the apartment” he rambles, hand falling to yours.

“It’s always going to be you (y/n) Mitchell” he looks over your face.

“I can’t sleep without you, my bed is cold, I don't think I've had a good night’s sleep in two years” he chuckles as you sniffle.

“Make it back to me in one piece okay?” you whisper, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. He cups your cheeks, his calloused thumb catches the tears, a teary smile on both of your faces.

“Sweetheart, I would swim oceans and crawl through fire to get back to you, you breathe life into me” he smiles at the small smile on your lips.

“Go in open minded, don’t think about me, don’t think about the past, don’t think about anything but protecting yourself” he nods, smiling down at you. “Maverick and Rooster too” he adds with a wink.

You knew deep down they were all fond of the other, they would never admit it though. “I want you waiting for me” he grins, leaning down to connect your lips again.

“You got it” you agree, kissing him as if he’d slip from your fingers and you’d wake up from this dream.

Jake made his way on the tarmac to the two people he dreaded having to talk to. Phoenix, Bradley and Maverick stood around the plane, stopping their conversation at the sight of the blonde.

He gulps, looking between them all. “Rooster” he nods, looking him up and down as Bradley excuses himself from the two.

“What is it Hangman?” he asks, adjusting the aviators on his nose.

“Thank you” Roosters furrows his brows as he looks the man up and down. He never expected Hangman to be thanking him. “You showed me I was not worthy of a woman like (y/n)." He looks over Bradleys face as he continues.

"I know that now and I now am gonna strive to be the man she deserves, the one she was gonna marry those years ago” he nods, Bradley can’t help but puff out his chest. He was protective of you.

“And thank you for convincing her to talk to me, I don’t think I could fly this mission with the thought of never seeing her again” his voice is soft as he makes the admission to the one person he never expected.

“Lastly” he looks up at Rooster with his signature Hangman smirk, “give em hell”.

It had been two days. You heard radio silence from every party. Checking in with Penny to see if she heard nothing, she was as in the dark as you were. No one knew if the mission was a success.

You threw yourself into work to keep your mind off it. “Penny!” you yell, pushing out of the kitchen doors with a case of beers in your arms.

“I mean I’m not penny but, will I surfice?” you turn at the sound of your fathers voice, gasping. “Dad!” you shove the case onto the table running into his awaiting open arms. “Hi sweetheart” he smiles, giving you a squeeze. “Are you okay?” you gasp, pulling away from his chest to look him over. He chuckles, looking down at you with a smile.

“I’m fine” he grins, rubbing your back. “C’mon I have something to show you” he smiles, leading you out the front door of the Hard Deck. He couldn’t believe the boys put him up to this.

The blue Bronco came speeding down the road.

The speakers loudly played Take My Breath Away as the cheers of the Aviators could be heard miles away. Standing on the back of the Bronco stood Jake Seresin still dressed in his flight suit, singing loudly as he got closer to the hard deck.

“My Love, Take My Breath Away!” he grins, watching the smile on your face.

Bradley smirks as he parks the bronco. You laugh, running down the steps quickly. Jake jumped from the back of the Bronco, catching your body as it collides with his.

“Sweetheart” he laughs, hugging you tight. Just like when he came home from his first deployment, you clung to him like a koala, sobbing into his shoulder.

Jake Seresin was a simple man, he wanted three things in life, love, a wife and a family.

And here he was holding his world in his arms again, building his family piece by piece.

“I’m here” he whispers, fingers tangling in your hair as you sob. “Oh my god you idiot” you laugh between sobs, pulling away to kiss him as if he’d fade away from your arms. The kiss was sloppy but full of love.

“If you only knew how much I love you” he whispers once the two of you part, you sniffle with a smile.

“I may have a little bit of an idea” you laugh, kissing him again.

if you enjoyed this fic, you can find all of my other work in the library, here <-

if you would like to listen to the song this fic is based on, you can find that here <-

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thewidowsghost · 6 months

Text

The Sky (Annabeth Chase x Jackson!Reader)

After hearing Annabeth gripe about her father for the last two years, (Y/n) had expected him to have devil horns and fangs. She had not expected him to be wearing an old-fashioned aviator’s cap and goggles. He looks so strange, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that she, her brother Percy, Thalia, and Zoe take a step back on the back porch.

“Hello,” he says in a friendly voice, “Are you delivering my airplanes?”

Thalia, Zoe, Percy, and (Y/n) look at each other warily.

“Um, no, sir,” Percy says.

“Drat,” he says. “I need three more Sopwith Camels.”

“Right,” (Y/n) says, though she has no idea what he’s talking about. “We’re, uh, friends,” - not exactly - “of Annabeth’s.”

“Annabeth?” he straightens, as if (Y/n) had just given him an electric shock. “Is she all right? Has something happened?”

None of the demigods answer, but their faces must’ve told him that something was very wrong. He takes off his cap and goggles. He has the same sandy-colored hair as Annabeth, and intense brown eyes. He’s handsome, for an older guy, but it looks as though he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and his shirt is buttoned wrong, so one side of his collar sticks up higher than the other side.

“You’d better come in,” Dr. Chase says grimly.

The Chase’s house smells like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and jazz music is coming from the kitchen. It seems like a messy, happy kind of home – the kind of place that someone had lived in forever.

“Dad!” a little boy screams. “He’s taking apart my robots!”

“Bobby,” Dr. Chase calls absently, “don’t take apart your brother’s robots.”

“I’m Bobby,” the little boy protests. “He’s Matthew!”

“Mathew,” Dr. Chase calls, “don’t take apart your brother’s robots.”

“Okay, Dad!”

Dr. Chase turns to us. “We’ll go upstairs to my study. This way.”

“Honey?” a woman calls. Annabeth’s stepmother appears in the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Who are our guests?” she asks.

“Oh,” Dr. Chase says. “This is . . .” He stares blankly at the demigods.

“Frederick,” she chides. “You forgot to ask them their names?”

The demigods introduce themselves a little uneasily, but Mrs. Chase seems nice to (Y/n). She asks if the demigods were hungry, and they admit that they were, and she lets them know she’d bring up some cookies, sandwiches, and sodas.

“Dear,” Dr. Chase says. “They came about Annabeth?”

(Y/n) half expects Mrs. Chase to turn into a raving lunatic at the mention of her stepdaughter, but she just purses her lips and looks concerned. “All right. Go on up to the study, and I’ll bring you some food.” Her gaze rests knowingly on (Y/n), and she smiles at the daughter of Poseidon. “Nice meeting you, (Y/n). I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Upstairs, they walk into Dr. Chase’s study, and a gasp of amazement escapes from (Y/n)’s lips.

The room is wall-to-wall books, but what really catches (Y/n)’s attention are the war models. There is a huge table with miniature tanks and soldiers fighting along a blue painted river, with hills and fake trees and stuff. Old-fashioned biplanes hang on strings from the ceiling, tilted at crazy angles like they were in the middle of a dogfight.

Dr. Chase smiles. "Yes. The Third Battle of Ypres. I'm writing a paper, you see, on the use of Sopwith Camels to strafe enemy lines. I believe they played a much greater role than they've been given credit for."

He plucks a biplane from its string and sweeps it across the battlefield, making airplane engine noises as he knocks down little German soldiers.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, looking up at her girlfriend’s father.

Zoe comes over and studies the battlefield. “The German lines were farther from the river.”

Dr. Chase stares at her. “How do you know that?”

"I was there," she says matter-of-factly. "Artemis wanted to show us how horrible war was, the way mortal men fight each other. And how foolish, too. The battle was a complete waste."

Dr. Chase opens his mouth in shock. “You –”

“She’s a Hunter, sir,” Thalia says. “But that’s not wy we’re here. We need –”

"You saw the Sopwith Camels?" Dr. Chase says. "How many were there? What formations did they fly?"

“Sir,” (Y/n) breaks in this time. “Annabeth, sh-she’s in danger.”

That gets his attention. He sets the biplane down.

“Of course,” he says. “Tell me everything.”

It isn’t easy, but they try. Meanwhile, the afternoon light is fading outside.

The demigods were running out of time.

When they'd finished, Dr. Chase collapses in his leather recliner. He laces his hands. "My poor brave Annabeth. We must hurry."

"Sir, we need transportation to Mount Tamalpais," Zoe says. "And we need it immediately."

"I'll drive you. Hmm. it would be faster to fly in my Camel, but it only seats two."

"Whoa, you have an actual biplane?" Percy asks.

"Down at Crissy Field," Dr. Chase says proudly. "That's the reason I had to move here. My sponsor is a private collector with some of the finest World War I relics in the world. He let me restore the Sopwith Camel—"

Sir," (Y/n) says. "Just a car would be great. And it might be better if we went without you. It's too dangerous."

Dr. Chase frowns uncomfortably. “Now wait a minute, young lady. Annabeth is my daughter. Dangerous or not, I . . . I can’t just –”

"Snacks," Mrs. Chase announces. She pushes through the door with a tray full of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and Cokes and cookies fresh out of the oven, the chocolate chips still gooey. Thalia and Percy inhale a few cookies while Zoe says, "I can drive, sir. I'm not as young as I look. I promise not to destroy your car."

Mrs. Chase knits her eyebrows. "What's this about?"

“Annabeth is in danger,” Dr. Chase says. “On Mount Tam. I would drive them . . . but apparently it’s no place for mortals.”

It sounds to (Y/n) like it was really hard for him to get that last part out.

(Y/n) waits for Mrs. Chase to say no, but to her surprise, Mrs. Chase just nods. “Then they’d better get going.”

“Right!” Dr. Chase jumps and starts patting his pockets. “My keys . . .”

His wife sighs. "Frederick, honestly. You'd lose your head if it weren't wrapped inside your aviator hat. The keys are hanging on the peg by the front door."

“Right!” Dr. Chase says.

Zoe and (Y/n) each grab a sandwich. “Thank you both,” Zoe says. “We should go. Now!”

The four hustle out the door and down the stairs, the Chases right behind them.

“(Y/n)” Mrs. Chase calls as they’re leaving, “tell Annabeth . . . tell her she still has a home here, will you? Remind her of that.”

(Y/n) takes one last look at the messy living room - Annabeth’s half brothers spilling LEGOs and arguing, and the smell of cookies filling the air. Not a bad place, she thinks.

“I’ll tell her,” (Y/n) replies, smiling slightly at her girlfriend’s stepmother.

They run out to the yellow Volkswagen convertible parked in the driveway. The sun is going down, and (Y/n) figures they have less than an hour to save Annabeth.

. . .

At the top of the mountain are ruins, blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses. Broken columns. Statues of bronze that look as though they’d been half melted.

“The ruins of Mount Othrys,” Thalia whispers in awe.

“Yes,” Zoe says. “It was not here before. This is bad.”

“What’s Mount Othrys?” Percy asks, feeling like a fool as usual.

“The mountain fortress of the Titans,” Zoe explains. “In the first war, Olympus and Othrys were the two rival capitals of the world. Othrys was –” she winces and holds her side.

“You’re hurt,” (Y/n) says, ignoring her own possibly cracked ribs. “Let me see.”

“No!” Zoe protests. “It is nothing. I was saying... in the first war, Othrys was blasted to pieces.”

“But . . . how is it here?”

Thalia looks around cautiously as they pick their way through the rubble, past blocks of marble and broken archways. "It moves in the same way that Olympus moves. It always exists on the edges of civilization. But the fact that it is here, on this mountain, is not good."

“Why?”

"This is Atlas's mountain," Zoe says. "Where he hold s—" She freezes. Her voice is ragged with despair. "Where he used to hold up the sky."

They had reached the summit of the mountain. A few yards ahead of them, gray clouds swirl in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touches the mountaintop, but instead rests on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress: Artemis, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze dreams. This is what (Y/n) had seen in her dream - though it hadn't been a cavern roof that Artemis was forced to hold.

It was the weight of the world.

"My lady!" Zoe rushes forward.

But Artemis says, "Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now." Her voice is strained, and she is drenched in sweat. (Y/n) had never seen a goddess in pain before, but the weight of the sky is clearly too much for Artemis.

Zoe is crying. She runs forward, despite Artemis’s protests, and tugs at the chains.

A booming voice speaks behind them: “Ah, how touching.”

They turn.

The General is staging there in his brown suit. At his side are Luke - and half a dozen dracaenae bearing the weight of the golden sarcophagus of Kronos.

Annabeth stands at Luke’s side - her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, and Luke is holding the point of his sword to her throat.

(Y/n) meets her girlfriend’s gaze, her sword, Tsunami, still in pen form in her hand, a thousand questions running through her head. There is one message Annabeth is sending her, however: RUN!

(Y/n)’s face hardens. “Luke,” (Y/n) snarls. “Let her go.”

Luke’s smile is pale and weak. “That is the General’s decision, (Y/n). But it’s good to see you again.”

(Y/n) spats at him.

The general chuckles. “So much for old friends. And you, Zoe. it’s been a long time. How’s my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you.”

“Do not respond,” Artemis groans. “Do not challenge him.”

“Wait a second,” Percy says. “You’re Atlas?”

The General glances at him. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl."

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Percy says, and (Y/n) grunts her agreement. “We won’t let you.”

The General sneers. “You have no right to interfere, little heroes. This is a family matter.”

Percy frowns. “A family matter?”

“Yes,” Zoe says bleakly. “Atlas is my father.”

The terrible thing is: (Y/n) can see the resemblance. Atlas has the same regal expression as Zoe, the same cold proud look in his eyes that Zoe sometimes got when she was mad, though on him, it looks a thousand times more evil. The Titan was all the things (Y/n) had originally disliked about Zoe, with none of the good she’d come to appreciate in her friend.

"Let Artemis go," Zoe demands.

Atlas walks closer to the chained goddess. "Perhaps you'd like to take the sky for her, then? Be my guest."

Zoe opens her mouth to speak, but Artemis says, "No! Do not offer, Zoe! I forbid you."

Atlas smirks. He kneels next to Artemis and tries to touch her face, but the goddess bites at him, almost taking off his fingers.

"Hoo-hoo," Atlas chuckles. "You see, daughter? Lady Artemis likes her new job. I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the center of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility."

(Y/n) looks at Annabeth. She is desperately trying to tell (Y/n) something. She motions her head towards Luke. But all (Y/n) can do is stare at her. (Y/n) hadn't noticed before, but something about her had changed. Her beautiful blond hair was now streaked with gray - but that didn’t make Annabeth look less beautiful in (Y/n)’s eyes.

"From holding the sky," Thalia mutters, as if she'd (Y/n)’s mind. "The weight should've killed her."

"I don't understand," Percy says. "Why can't Artemis just let go of the sky?"

Atlas laughs. "How little you understand, young one. This is the point where the sky and the earth first met, where Ouranos and Gaia first brought forth their mighty children, the Titans. The sky still yearns to embrace the earth. Someone must hold it at bay, or else it would crush down upon this place, instantly flattening the mountain and everything within a hundred leagues. Once you have taken the burden, there is no escape." Atlas smiles. "Unless someone else takes it from you." He approaches the group, studying Thalia, (Y/n), and Percy. "So these are the best heroes of the age, eh? Not much of a challenge."

"Fight us," (Y/n) spits. "And let's see."

"Have the gods taught you nothing? An immortal does not fight a mere mortal directly. It is beneath our dignity. I will have Luke crush you instead."

"So you're another coward," (Y/n) snickers.

Atlas's eyes glow with hatred. With difficulty, he turns his attention to Thalia. "As for you, daughter of Zeus, it seems Luke was wrong about you."

"I wasn't wrong," Luke managed. He looked terribly weak, and he spoke every word as if it were painful. If (Y/n) didn't hate his guts so much, she almost would've felt sorry for him. "Thalia, you still can join us. Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!"

He waves his hand, and next to us a pool of water appears: a pond ringed in black marble, big enough for the Ophiotaurus. Percy can imagine Bessie in that pool. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more he was sure he could hear Bessie mooing.

Don't think about him! Suddenly Grover's voice is inside my mind—the empathy link. Percy could feel his emotions. He is on the verge of panic. I'm losing Bessie. Block the thoughts!

Percy tries to make his mind go blank. He tries to think about basketball players, skateboards, and the different kinds of candy in my mom's shop. Anything but Bessie.

"Thalia, call the Ophiotaurus," Luke persists. "And you will be more powerful than the gods."

"Luke . . ." Her voice is full of pain. "What happened to you?"

"Don't you remember all those times we talked? All those times we cursed the gods?

Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!"

Thalia shakes her head. "Free Annabeth. Let her go."

"If you join me," Luke promises, "it can be like old times. The three of us together. Fighting for a better world. Please, Thalia, if you don't agree . . ."His voice falters. "It's my last chance. He will use the other way if you don't agree. Please."

(Y/n) doesn’t know what he means, but the fear in his voice sounds real enough. She could believe that Luke was in danger.

His life depends on Thalia's joining his cause. And (Y/n) is afraid Thalia might believe it, too.

"Do not, Thalia," Zoe warns. "We must fight them."

Luke waves his hand again, and a fire appears. A bronze brazier, just like the one at

camp. A sacrificial flame.

"Thalia," (Y/n) mutters. "No."

Behind Luke, the golden sarcophagus begins to glow. As it did, (Y/n) sees images in the mist

all around us: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, a terrible and beautiful

palace rising around them, made of fear and shadow.

"We will raise Mount Othrys right here," Luke promises, in a voice so strained it is hardly his. "Once more, it will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak."

He points toward the ocean, and (Y/n)’s heart falls. Marching up the side of the mountain, from the beach where the Princess Andromeda was docked, is a great army. Dracaenae and

Laestrygonians, monsters and half-bloods, hellhounds, harpies, and other things (Y/n) can’t even name. The whole ship must've been emptied, because there are hundreds, many more than (Y/n) had seen on board last summer. And they are marching toward the mountain. In a few minutes, they would be there.

"This is only a taste of what is to come," Luke says "Soon we will be ready to storm Camp Half-Blood. And after that, Olympus itself. All we need is your help."

For a terrible moment, Thalia hesitates. She gazes at Luke, her eyes full of pain, as if the only thing she wants in the world is to believe him. Then she levels her spear. "You aren't Luke. I don't know you anymore."

"Yes, you do, Thalia," he pleads. "Please. Don't make me . . . Don't make him destroy you."

There is no time. If that army gets to the top of the hill, we would be overwhelmed. (Y/n) meets her girlfriend’s eyes again. Annabeth nods.

(Y/n) looks at Percy, Thalia, and Zoe, and she decides it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to die fighting with friends like this.

"Now," (Y/n) says, and together, they charge.

Thalia goes straight for Luke. The power of her shield is so great that his dragon- women bodyguards flee in a panic, dropping the golden coffin and leaving him alone. But despite his sickly appearance, Luke is still quick with his sword. He snarls like a wild animal and counterattacks. When his sword, Backbiter, met Thalia's shield, a ball of lightning erupted between them, frying the air with yellow tendrils of power.

As for (Y/n), she does the stupidest thing in her life - which is saying a lot. She attacks the Titan Lord Atlas.

He laughs as (Y/n) approaches, her sword Tsunami springing to life in her hands. A massive javelin appears in Atlas’s hands and his silk suit melts into full Greek battle armor. “Go on, then!”

“(Y/n)!” Zoe calls. “Beware!”

(Y/n) knows what Zoe is warning her about. Chiron had told her a long time ago: Immortals are constrained by ancient rules. But a hero can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as she has the nerve. Once (Y/n) attacked, however, Atlas would be free to attack back directly with all his might.

(Y/n) swings her sword, but Atlas knocks her aside with the shaft of his javelin. (Y/n) flies through the air, and slams into a black wall. It isn’t Mist anymore. The palace is rising, brick by brick. It’s becoming real.

“Fool!” Atlas screams gleefully, swatting aside one of Zoe’s arrows. “Did you think, simply because you could challenge that petty war god, that you could stand up to me?”

The mention of Ares sets a jolt through (Y/n), and, ignoring her throbbing ribs, she shakes off her daze and charges again.

The javelin’s point slashes towards (Y/n) like a scythe. She raises Tsunami, planning to cut off the Titan’s weapon at the shaft, but her arm feels like lead. Suddenly, the sword weighs a ton.

And then (Y/n) remembers Ares's warning, spoken on the beach in Los Angeles so long ago:

When you need it most, your sword will fail you.

Not now! (Y/n) pleads. But it is no good. She tries to dodge, but the javelin catches her in the chest and sends (Y/n) flying like a rag doll. (Y/n) slams into the ground, her head spinning. (Y/n) looks up and finds herself at the feet of Artemis, still straining under the weight of the sky.

“Run, girl,” she tells (Y/n). “You must run!”

Atlas is taking his time coming towards (Y/n). My sword is gone. It had skittered away over the edge of the cliff. It might reappear in her pocket—maybe in a few seconds—but it doesn’t matter. (Y/n) would be dead by then. Luke and Thalia are fighting like demons, lightning crackling around them. Percy is fighting the dracaenae, and Annabeth is on the ground, desperately struggling to free her hands.

“Die, little hero!” Atlas says. He raises his javelin to impale (Y/n).

“No!” Zoe yells, and volley of silver arrows sprout from the armpit chink in Atlas’s armor.

“ARGH!” he bellows and turns back towards his daughter.

(Y/n) reaches down and feels Tsunami back in her pocket. She couldn’t fight Atlas, even with a sword. And then a chill goes down her back. She remembers the words of the prophecy: The Titan’s curse must one withstand. (Y/n) couldn’t hope to beat Atlas, but there is someone who might stand a chance.

“The sky,” (Y/n) tells the goddess. “Give it to me.”

"No, girl," Artemis says. Her forehead is beaded with metallic sweat, like quicksilver. "You don't know what you're asking. It will crush you!"

"Annabeth took it!"

"She barely survived. She had the spirit of a true huntress. You will not last so long."

"I'll die anyway," (Y/n) replies. "Give me the weight of the sky!"

(Y/n) doesn’t wait for her answer. She takes out Tsunami and slashes through her chains. Then she steps next to her and braces herself on one knee—holding up her hands—and touches the cold, heavy clouds. For a moment, Artemis and (Y/n) bare the weight together. It was the heaviest thing she'd ever felt, as if (Y/n) was being crushed under a thousand trucks. She wanted to black out from the pain, but (Y/n) breathes deeply. I can do this.

Then Artemis slips out from under the burden, and (Y/n) holds it alone.

Every muscle in (Y/n)’s body turns to fire. Her bones feel like they’re melting. She wants to scream, but she doesn’t have the strength to open her mouth. She begins to sink, lower and lower to the ground, the sky’s weight crushing her.

(Y/n) concentrates on breathing. (Y/n) thinks about Bianca, who’d given her life so they could get to this moment. If she could do that, then (Y/n) could hold the sky.

(Y/n)’s vision turns fuzzy. Everything is tinged with red. She catches glimpses of the battle, but she isn’t sure if she is seeing anything clearly. There is Atlas in full battle armor, jabbing with his javelin, laughing insanely as he fights. And Artemis, a blur of silver. She has two wicked hunting knives, each as long as her arm, and she slashes wildly at the Titan, dodging and leaping with unbelievable grace. She seems to change form as she maneuvers. She is a tiger, a gazelle, a bear, a falcon. Or perhaps that was just (Y/n)’s fevered brain. Zoe shoots arrows at her father, aiming for the chinks in his armor. He roars in pain each time one finds its mark, but they affect him like bee stings. He just gets madder and keeps fighting.

Thalia and Luke go spear on sword, lighting still flashing around them. Thalia presses Luke back with the aura of her shield. Even he is not immune to it. He retreats, wincing and growing in frustration.

"Yield!" Thalia yells. "You never could beat me, Luke."

He bares his teeth. "Well see, my old friend."

Sweat pours down (Y/n)’s face. Her hands are slippery. Her shoulders would've screamed with agony if they could. (Y/n) feels like the vertebrae in her spine are being welded together by a blowtorch.

In her daze, (Y/n) can’t place Percy’s or Annabeth’s positions. She watches, however, as Artemis advances. The goddess was fast, but the Titan’s strength is impossible. His javelin slammed into the earth where Artemis had been a split second before, and a fissure opens in the rocks. He leaps over it and keeps pursuing her. The goddess was leading him back towards (Y/n).

Get ready, the goddess speaks in her mind.

(Y/n) is loosing the abulity to think through the pain in her ribs. Her responce is somthing like agggghh-owwwww.

“You fight well for a girl,” Atlas laughs. “But you are no match for me.”

He feints with teh tip of his javelin and Artemis dodges. (Y/n) sees the trick coming. Atlas’s javelin sweeps around and knocks Artemis’s legs off the ground. She falls, and Atlas brings up his javelin tip for the kill.

"No!" Zoe screams. She leaps between her father and Artemis and shoots an arrow straight into the Titan's forehead, where it lodges like a unicorn's horn. Atlas bellows in rage. He sweeps aside his daughter with the back of his hand, sending her flying into the black rocks.

(Y/n) wasnts to shout her name, or run to her friend’s aid, but she can’t speak or move. She couldn’t even see where Zoe had landed. Then Atlas turns on Artemis with a look of triumph in his face. Artemis seems to be wounded. And she doesn’t get up.

"The first blood in a new war," Atlas gloats. And he stabs downward.

As fast as thought, Artemis grabs his javelin shaft. It hits the earth right next to her and she pulls backward, using the javelin like a lever, kicking the Titan Lord and sending him flying over her, (Y/n) sees him coming down on top of her and she realizes what would happen. (Y/n) loosened her hold on the sky, and as Atlas slams into her, she doesn’t try to hold on. (Y/n) lets herself be pushed out of the way and she rolls.

The weight of the sky drops onto Atlas’s back, almost smashing him flat until he manages to get to his kness, strugging to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky. But it is too late.

"Noooooo!" He bellows so hard it shakes the mountain. "Not again!"

Atlas is trapped under his old burden. (Y/n) tried to stand and fell back again, dazed from pain. Her body feels like it was burning up.

Thalia backs Luke to the edge of a cliff, but still they fought on, next to the golden coffin. Thalia has tears in her eyes. Luke has a bloody slash across his chest and his pale face glistened with sweat.

He lunges at Thalia and she slams him with her shield. Luke's sword spins out of his

hands and clatters to the rocks. Thalia puts her spear point to his throat.

For a moment, there is silence.

“Well?” Luke asks. He tries to hide it, but (Y/n) can hear the fear in his voice.

Thalia trembles with fury.

Behind her, Annabeth comes scrambling, finally free from her bonds. Her face is bruised and streaked with dirt. "Don't kill him!"

"He's a traitor," Thalia says. "A traitor!"

In her daze, (Y/n) realizes that Artemis is no longer with her, and Percy had taken the goddess’s place at her side. The goddess had run off toward theblack rocks where Zoe had fallen.

"We'll bring Luke back," Annabeth pleads. "To Olympus. He . . . he'll be useful."

"Is that what you want, Thalia?" Luke sneers. "To go back to Olympus in triumph? To please your dad?"

Thalia hesitats, and Luke makes a desperate grab for her spear.

"No!" Annabeth shouts. But without thinking, Thalia kicks Luke away. He looses his balance, terror on his face, and then he falls.

"Luke!" Annabeth screams.

Percy helps (Y/n) as they rush to the cliff’s edge. Below them, the army from the Princess Andromeda had stopped in amazement. They are staring at Luke’s broken from from teh rocks. Despite how much (Y/n) hated him, she couldn’t stand to see it. She wants to belive the son of Hermes is still alive, but that is impossible. The fall is at least fifty feet, and he isn’t moving.

One of the giants looks up and growls, "Kill them!"

Thalia is stiff with grief, tears streaming down her cheeks. (Y/n) pulls her back as a wave of javelins sail over their heads. They run for the rocks, ignoring the curses and threats of Atlas as they pass.

"Artemis!" Percy yells.

The goddess looks up, her face almost as grief-stricken as Thalia's. Zoe lies in the goddess's arms. She is breathing. Her eyes are open. But still . . .

"The wound is poisoned," Artemis says.

"Atlas poisoned her?" Percy asks.

"No," the goddess says. "Not Atlas."

Artemis shows them the wound in Zoe’s side. (Y/n) had almost forgotten her scrape with Ladon the dragon. The bite is so much worse than Zoe had let on. (Y/n) can barely look at the wound. Zoe had charged into battle against her father with a horrible cut already sapping her strengh.

(Y/n) feels a hand lacing through her’s. She glances over to find Annabeth standing beside her.

“The stars,” Zoe murmurs. “I cannot see them.”

“Nectar and ambrosia,” Percy says. “Come one. We have to get her some.”

No one moves. Grief hangs in the air. Even Artemis is too shocked to stir. The demigods may have met their doom right there, but then (Y/n) hears a strang buzzing noise.

Just as the army of monsters come over the hill, a Sopwith Camel swoops down out of the sky.

“Get away from my daugther!” Dr. Chase calls down, and his machine guns burst to life, peppering the groud with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering.

“Dad?” yells Annabeth in disbelief.

“Run!” he calls back, his voice growing fainter as the biplane swoops by.

This shakes Artemis out of her grief. She stares up at teh antique plane, which is now coming back for another strafe.

"A brave man," Artemis says with grudging approval. "Come, We must get Zoe away from here." She raises her hunting horn to her lips, and its clear sound echoes down the valleys of Marin. Zoe's eyes are fluttering.

"Hang in there!" Percy tells her. "It'll be all right!"

The Sopwith Camel swoops down again. A few giants threw javelins, and one flew straight between the wings of the plane, but the machine guns blazed. I realized with amazement that somehow Dr. Chase must've gotten hold of celestial bronze to fashion his bullets. The first row of snake women wailed as the machine gun's volley blew them into sulfurous yellow powder.

"That's . . . my dad!" Annabeth says in amazement.

They don’t have time to admire his flying. The giants and snake women are already recovering from their surprise. Dr. Chase would be in trouble soon.

Just then, the moonlight brights, and a silver chariot appears from the sky, drawn by the most beautiful deer (Y/n) had ever seen. It lands right next to them.

"Get in," Artemis says.

Annabeth helps (Y/n) get Thalia on board, and Percy helps Artemis with Zoe. They wrap

Zoe in a blanket as Artemis pulls the reins and the chariot sped away from the mountain,

straight into the air.

"Like Santa Claus's sleigh," (Y/n) murmurs, still dazed with pain.

Artemis takes time to look back at her. "Indeed, young half-blood. And where do you think that legend came from?"

Seeing them safely away, Dr. Chase turns his biplane and follows like an honor guard. It must have been one of the strangest sights ever, even for the Bay Area: a silver flying chariot pulled by deer, escorted by a Sopwith Camel.

Behind them, the army of Kronos roars in anger as they gather on the summit of Mount Tamalpais, but the loudest sound is the voice of Atlas, bellowing curses against the gods as he struggles under the weight of the sky.

. . .

Annabeth and (Y/n) fly along side by side on the back of the pegasai.

“Your dad seems cool,” (Y/n) tells Annabeth.

It was too dark to see her girlfriend’s expression. She looks back, though California is far behind them now.

“I guess so,” Annabeth replies. “We’ve been arguing for so many years.”

“Mhmm,” (Y/n) hums. “You mentioned that.”

“You think I was lying about that?” It sounds like a challenge to (Y/n), but a pretty half-hearted one, like she is asking it of herself.

"I didn't say you were lying. It's just . . . he seems okay. Your stepmom, too. Maybe they've, uh, gotten cooler since you saw them last."

She hesitates. "They're still in San Francisco, Percy. I can't live so far from camp."

(Y/n) doesn’t want to ask her next question. She is scared to know the answer. But I asks it anyway. "So what are you going to do now?"

They fly over a town, an island of lights in the middle of the dark. It whisks by so fast they might've been in an airplane.

"I don't know," she admits. "But thank you for rescuing me."

"Hey, you’re my girlfriend. I would go through Tartarus to rescue you."

"You didn't believe I was dead?"

"Never."

She hesitates. "Neither is Luke, you know. I mean . . . he isn't dead."

(Y/n) stares at her. She doesn’t know if Annabeth is cracking under the stress or what. "Annabeth, that fall was pretty bad. There's no way —"

"He isn't dead," she insistas. "I know it. The same way you knew about me."

Word Count: 5630 Words

#annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase x jackson reader #annabeth chase x female reader #annabeth chase x fem reader #percy jackson x sister reader

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k0libra · 10 months

Text

Welcome Captain Anderson and First Officer Connor!

About a week and a half ago I came up with dbh civil aviation au, as I absolutely love jetliners. So I decided to combine both of my interests! :D

More details about the setting are under the cut!

In the 2020s, a new aerospace corporation emerged - “Cyberair”. Originally starting from light jet construction, but later in the 30s they introduced narrow-body aircraft to the production line, as the result of rapid growth and market expansion. However, throughout the years their idea remained the same: “Reliable and comprehensive automation”. Cyberair jets are everything, beyond what a modern aircraft can offer, and is capable of. Truly a creation of the 21st century.

The latest Cyberair venture – state of the art autopilot. Identical to humans in its appearance, yet so different in behaviour. It’s efficient, reliable and doesn’t make mistakes (almost. At least human ones). But to tell the truth, this development is expected – ever since the late 20s Cyberair started to slowly announce machine cabin crew, even gifting a unique RK200 air traffic controller model to the Detroit Metropolitan Airport.

Delta Air Lines received their own one-of-a-kind autopilot, a RK800 (FAA approved!) model. How? Well, something about the Cyberair CEO liking their service. After a few papers signed and a few hands shaken, Connor embarks on his first real flight as a First Officer.

No plane flies without a captain though, so Connor has company. And a superior. Even if machines are better than people in piloting the plane in almost every way, human ego and fear, maybe, can’t let them be in absolute control. “Uncanny valley” or something.

Captain Anderson is a highly experienced senior pilot at Delta. Most of his career he has been flying Airbus aircraft, piloting A350-900 in the later years. Although because of Connor working with him now he has to pilot Cyberair regional or light jets from time to time. Oh, those signed papers be damned… He misses his dear A350.

Their relationship had a rough start, with the captain calling Connor “an attempt of capitalism at stealing my job”. But Hank couldn’t help but warm up to the FO the more flight hours passed. There was something so… alive about him? No, in aviation you only trust your instrument panel, and here all of the facts loudly state that Connor is simply a RK800. This is definitely some Eliza effect shit.

Why is he so interested in the A380 then? Doesn’t he have all of the aeroplane data neatly stored in his head? What surprises Hank more is something akin to confusion on Connor’s face every time he gets overly excited about the giant of the skies. Maybe he’s surprised by his new-found interest, too. At least there’s something Hank can tell him about from the old days (ah, proud A380 pilot) during long transatlantic flights.

Fucking Eliza effect bullshit.

P.S. if you want to leave an ask about this au, please do! I get asks so rarely so I’m excited hahah. But you can ask literally anything else, too lol

#art #fan art #my art #dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #rk800 #dbh hank #hank dbh #hank anderson #dbh au #dbh aviation au

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callsigncherub · 1 year

Text

To love and be loved.

Summary: Rooster learns what it's like to love and be loved.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, ANGST, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, major character death, drunk driving.

Word count: 4.6k

This is a very angsty piece so 18+ minors DNI.

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. And he was okay with that. He grew up knowing the damage it causes losing the one person you love the most, he saw it first-hand. He saw what his mother had to go through and how difficult it was to be in so much pain but carry on in life. Working, paying the bills, and having the responsibility of a child was challenging enough, but doing all of that whilst grieving was something he could never begin to comprehend. And something he would never want to put someone through.

Nevertheless, he had a great childhood. Living in a small, white beach house along the coast with his mother, he has fond memories of growing up. Baking cakes on Sundays and licking the batter off the spoon, singing corny 80s songs in the car with his mother on the way to school and building model planes with Mav. He had a lot of friends growing up, he was surrounded by love. But Bradley always felt like a part of him was missing. His father.

His mother always told him stories about his father. With Bradley sat across her lap outside on the porch swing, flicking through several photo albums and fiddling with a picture of the three of them when Bradley was born, she would tell him about how they met and fell in love, how much he loved flying with Mav, the family holidays they went on when Bradley was a young child, how Goose nearly passed out when Bradley was born, and how much Goose absolutely adored his son.

At first, Bradley loved hearing these stories, he used to beg his mother to tell him more, but as he entered his early teens, all he felt was anger.

It all started when he woke up one morning to make grab his mother a tea and noticed his father’s favourite mug still at the back of the cupboard, slightly dusty and derelict. He wondered what it was still doing there if no one had been or was going to use it. The next week he was clearing out the attic looking for things to sell so he could save up for the latest CD player when he came across a box with ‘Nick and Carole’ scribbled along its side, filled with old videos, wedding pictures, his mother’s wedding dress and an album entirely dedicated to his father’s journey of being a naval aviator. But underneath all of the memories held in this box were a pair of boots and a khaki uniform.

A few days after finding the box in the attic, he was on his way out to school when his mother noticed his sweater was getting a bit too tight on him and handed him one of his fathers and when he came home, he found a pile of clothes on his bed that he could only assume also belonged to his father. Curiously, Bradley found himself eyeing the pile of shorts and sweaters when a bright yellow caught his eye and he rummaged through the pile, only to pull out the ugliest looking Hawaiian print shirt he’s ever seen.

“Your father loved that shirt. God, you look so much like him Bradley.’ His mother said, standing at the doorway with tear filled eyes.

Bradley lay awake in bed that night hit with an irrepressible amount of emotion, surprised that despite his father passing whilst he was so young, he could remember so much. He thought about the mug, and how his father would drink his coffee from it every day at breakfast, Bradley sat on his knee eating bacon and eggs and his mother ranting about how she doesn’t understand how he could drink black coffee and enjoy it. He remembered waiting on the front porch every day for his father to return home from work and hearing the same uniform he found a week ago, he remembered the sound that those exact boots would make walking up the steps to their home and the joy he felt to see his father. And as Bradley sat up in bed, mind running 100 miles per hour he caught the vibrant shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair and caught the memory of their last family holiday together. The holiday where he built sandcastles with his father, went swimming in the ocean with his mother, it was their final moment of happiness before disaster struck.

For a moment, Bradley smiled with fondness at the thought of his father. But the grief that came after his momentary happiness hit him at full force, like a punch to the gut. He was hit with the realisation that he’d never see his father drink from that mug again, he’d never hear the clunk of those boots walking up the front porch after a long day at work, he’d never see his father wearing his collection of ridiculous Hawaiian shirts again. And at that, he struggled to understand why he was only now beginning to feel this way.

The funny thing with grief is, it never truly goes away. It comes and goes. Sometimes, some days, it’s easier to handle but other days it’s a tough pill to swallow and Bradley was angry at how much time he already lost with his father and how for the rest of his life, there’s always going to be a part of him that’s empty.

So, Bradley spent his teens in a much more reckless way than his mother thought was natural. The late nights, the disobedience, the parties, the girls, coming home high early hours of the morning because he couldn’t face the way he felt.

In all honesty it broke his mother’s heart, and he could see that. It hurt him to hurt her, but there was something that held him back from ever being able to change and truth be told, he was terrified. Maybe it was the fact that it was easier to run away from how he felt rather than face it head on, or maybe it was self-preservation – that if he pushed his mother away then he would hurt less. He felt the burden of being his mother’s only child. Everything she went through whilst having a son to look after as well. And if anything were to happen to his mother, he thought maybe it would be easier to cope. But deep-down Bradley thought that if he followed in his father’s footsteps of joining the Navy, maybe he’d feel that little bit closer to him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so self-destructive. Just maybe, he would make his parents proud.

There are a lot of things Bradley regrets in his life and the way he acted over his teens was one of them. He wanted forgiveness for the amount of time he missed out on because of his incessant need to prove a point he couldn’t even understand until he did. He would be better off alone, forever.

At 18 Bradley lost his mother to a gruelling bout of breast cancer. It was the most difficult thing Bradley had ever gone through in his life. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that she was gone, that he would never see her face again, sing along in the car with her, feel her warm embrace. And to this day, he still remembers the last thing she ever said to him, lying in the hospice where she took her last breath, a long night of waiting ahead of him.

“Bradley, your father loved you so much. I love you so much. Make us proud, my beautiful boy.”

Those were the last words he heard his mother speak, but he could see in her eyes that she forgave him, that every word she’d just said was meant with the truest of intentions and enough love to conquer the world.

After that day, Bradley made it his life’s purpose to serve his country by joining the US navy. His life consisted of his F-18, ready meals, drinks at the Hard Deck and returning home to the barracks – alone. He didn’t fall in love, he never allowed himself to. Sure, he’s had hook-ups in the past, he’d had girls tell him they loved him, but not once had he ever said it back with meaning or said it back at all. He was okay with being alone, because he had no obligations, he wasn’t important to anyone and he was happy with it being that way because he prefers being by himself rather than forcing a love and marriage and kids – pretending to be a person that he isn’t, when he knows it’ll only be temporary.

What is there to lose?

That’s a simple enough question that Bradley thought he knew the answer to. Nothing, he had absolutely nothing to lose. No wife, no children, not even a pet.

But then he met the most beautiful soul and something in him couldn’t quite stay away.

The Hard Deck was always busy on a Friday night, but this one night in particular was jam packed. Celebratory drinks were held for the success of the Uranium Mission and Bradley, though ecstatic that the mission was over, and that he was alive, couldn’t shake the feeling of misery that he felt deep down for realising just how precious life is and how he’s only getting older – and lonelier. He never thought his perspective on how he would spend the rest of his life would change and so he sat at the bar, beer in hand wallowing in self-pity. Downing the rest of his beer, Bradley stood up and slammed some cash on the bar ready to call it a night, about to head off towards the door before colliding against the bar with a thud.

Bradley groaned at the impact, not in the mood to deal with anything else tonight that could worsen the foul mood he was already in.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry. Are you okay?” You screeched, looking up at him with alerted eyes, cheeks flushed a rosy tint – partly out of embarrassment, and partly from the alcohol you’d consumed, meeting up with your friends from work after a busy week.

As soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to look down at you to know that you’d be the most beautiful woman he’s ever met in his life. But still, he couldn’t help himself and as his eyes met yours, he immediately knew wanted you. He wanted you in every way possible. Everything already felt so different. Too stunned to speak, and his mind blank, you were perfect to him.

Now, Bradley didn’t believe in fate, and he certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight, at least not until the night he met you. But that all changed so fast, and Bradley found himself sat at the bar with you until closing, drinking beer after beer – misery long forgotten and the beginnings of the most beguiling relationship starting to bloom.

The relationship progressed fast.

You both went on your first date a week later. It was simple, but perfect. Bradley picked you up from your apartment with a bunch of flowers, dressed in his father’s shirt - the same shirt he couldn’t bear to look at when he was younger. You answered the door in a white sundress, hair falling naturally around your shoulders with a bright smile on your face that had Bradley’s heart racing. After having to endure a 10-minute interrogation from your best friend, you followed Bradley out to his Bronco and drove down to the beach where you had a picnic and watched the sunset, lying on your backs next to each other on an old picnic blanket on the sand.

Your face mirrored his own, both of your hearts pounding against your chests, synchronised with one another. Hands shaking and smiling at each other through tight lips, breaths shallow, bodies vibrating. Eyes ablaze with a burning desire, thinking of all of the possibilities, reserved from seeming too eager to admit how both of you felt, feelings reciprocated. But knowing, you were it for each other.

About a month into your relationship with Bradley, one torturous month of being nagged by the squad on when they were going to meet you, but one incredible month spent with you, he took you to the Hard Deck to meet up with his friends for drinks. All was going well, and Bradley felt content in knowing you were already comfortable around the people he considered family.

“Bradshaw! You never told us your girl was that hot.” Hangman stood next to him, handing him the darts, a smirk on his face.

“Shut up Bagman, just because you lack the brain capacity to keep a girl around for more than a week.” Phoenix scoffed, slapping him on the chest before patting Bradley’s arm sympathetically.

Bradley knew to pay no mind to Jake, but as he watched you laughing with Bob and Javy by the bar in a pretty pink sundress, sipping on a cocktail too sweet for him to fathom, he couldn’t help but let the insecurities creep in. He felt like the luckiest man alive to be your boyfriend, and he was proud to call you his girlfriend, but he constantly carried that heavy burden of how he felt about himself with him. Sometimes he could supress it, put on a brave face and everyone sees him as the most confident person in whatever room he’s in. But Bradley could never truly talk about how he felt, every syllable of every word that’s willing its way out of his mouth, pushing his head further underwater – looking in the mirror and seeing the scars along his face and neck, carved into his skin like a malediction, something he was precariously wishing he could remove.

“Hey Roos, you okay?” Bradley didn’t even realise you’d made your way over to him until he heard your voice and felt your hand reach up to smooth over his hair, so transfixed on his inner thoughts.

He hummed, kissing your forearm, and then talking your free hand in his own. Just seeing your face with concern written all over it was enough for his heart to nearly burst out of his chest.

It was well past 1am when the Hard Deck closed for good, and Bradley led you out to his bronco and put your seatbelt on. Before he could move around to the driver’s side, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. “Thank you for tonight, I had a really nice time with your friends. Even though Jake’s a bit of a dick” Bradley chuckled “I’m glad you had a good time and I’m happy you’re happy. They all love you.” Bradley caught himself on his words after that. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how he knew he loved you from the moment he saw you and how he was certain he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you. Neither of you had said it yet, but you often found yourself wanting to say it too. You both drove home in a comfortable silence, Bradley’s hand resting gently on your thigh, the windows slightly ajar and the radio playing quietly but those three words had been hanging in the air, urging to be said the whole ride home.

Bradley parked up outside and you led him into your apartment. You both changed out of your clothes, and you threw on one of Bradleys old UVA shirts that he’d left at your place. “You coming to bed?” Bradley said quietly as he pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Yeah, I just need to take of my makeup and stuff.” You said pulling away to head towards the bathroom. “And stuff?” Bradley asked and you giggled. “Yeah, like skincare. Fancy joining me?” You asked and you shrieked when Bradley picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying in you into the bathroom and setting you down on the counter without saying a word. You washed your face and picked up your serums and moisturiser, talking Bradley through your skincare routine whilst he stared at you as if you had grown three heads. Bradley watched you squirt some of the serum onto your hand and rub it all over his face. He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, letting out a deep breath. It was his turn to apply it to your face next and by the end of the routine you were both a giggling mess, breaths heavy with laughter. And in that moment, Bradley forgot about his scars, he forgot about all of his insecurities. He was at his happiest with you, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Still sat on the counter, you pulled Bradley closer and rested your forehead against his looking into his eyes with such a deep admiration for how truly beautiful he was.

“I love you, Bradley.”

And there it was. Those three simple words with the most powerful meaning. Bradley felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs, winded like the time he fell off the slide in his backyard at six years old.

“Say that again.” Bradley murmured, hands tightening their grip on your waist.

“I love you, Bradley. So much.”

And with that, Bradley smashed his lips onto yours in a bruising kiss.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you.” He repeated, over and over again until you were back in your bedroom. Placing you down on your bed, he covered his body with yours. You moaned into the kiss and gasped as he left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. He slipped his hand under the hem of your dress and began toying with the waistband of your underwear, when you sucked in a breath, he stopped immediately, brown eyes searching yours for any kind of discomfort.

“Do you want this? We can stop baby I really don’t mind.”

“No, I want this Bradley, I do.” You said and he made light work of pulling off your dress and ridding himself of his shirt and pants before kissing you again, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling them down your legs. Bradley teased your clit before sinking one of his digits into your soaked pussy and kissing your hip before taking your sensitive bud into his mouth. “Fuck Bradley.” You moaned, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he squeezed your him in a comforting encouragement. Gripping his hair tightly, your climax quickly approaching you moaned loudly “Oh my god I love you Bradley fuck!”

Coming down from your high, Bradley teased your folds with the head of his cock before slowly pushing himself fully into you and you both moaned. “You feel amazing, sweet girl, I love you.” Bradley moaned against your mouth, intertwining his hand with your own before slowly rocking his hips into your own. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and whining and Bradley took a moment to admire how beautiful you looked, the moment was so raw, the only light in the room was the dim glow of the moon which illuminating your features.

It was at this moment that Bradley realised that the confessions of love shared that night were terrifying, and they scared him more than anything else he’s ever experienced in his life. The emotions he felt consumed his body like an entity and he knew that the easiest choice he’s ever made in his life was you. Out of all of the women in this world, he didn’t want anyone else as much as he wanted you, he didn’t need anyone else as much as he needed you. You both spent that night wrapped up in each other, bodies tangled between the sheets in a state of completion, reassurance, and love. There was nothing in the world that could ruin such a deep connection.

For the next three months of the relationship, Bradley knew he could see himself spending the rest of his life with you. Moving in together, he wanted to be your new home. He wanted to build a life with you, make four walls and a roof into something so much more than just a place of residence. He dreamt of waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. He wanted to help you cook your favourite foods together and he wanted to clean the dishes. He wanted to argue over where the candles were kept when there’s a storm and the power goes out. He wanted you to fill him with memories of your own, pictures of your graduation, you most treasured trinkets, the spicy books you read that he pokes fun at you for when you get defensive and say that you don’t read just porn, it has to have a plot.

After years of accepting the fact that he’d be alone because he could never have someone else endure the grief, the pain, and the suffering that he watched his mother go through, he met you, and he was irrevocably and deeply consumed by you. He dreamt of the day you had a child of your own together, the beach days, the baking, the singalongs in the car, babyproofing every corner of the house he wanted that. And he so desperately wanted that with you by his side.

And that’s exactly what you both did. You bought a house together along the coast, one that reminded him exactly of the house that he grew up in, with a big porch and a swing that hung just to the left of the front door. You both packed up your lives into those brown moving boxes, messy handwriting scrawled onto the side of each of them.

Unpacking said boxes in the height of summer was a gruelling task, but one that was made much more enjoyable by the presence of each other ands by the end of the day you both collapsed on the porch swing, happy and content in each other’s arms.

“I’ve never felt as happy anywhere else than when I’m with you sweet girl.” Bradley said, nuzzling his head into your hair, treasuring the scent so not to forget it when he inevitably gets deployed.

“This is our forever baby.” You said intertwining your hand with his as you both sat cuddled up with one another listening to the waves of the ocean crashing and making plans for your future.

Two months settled into your new home with Bradley, two months of the rest of your lives. Lives that entailed lazy Sundays, coffees in the morning, walks along the beach, lingering sweet kisses amid pillow talk and making love – and all things perfect. But also lives that weren’t always bright, lives that held bickering, late night fights over pointless things because you both had tough days at work, misunderstandings, and the challenges of balancing busy days. Some days were filled with bright skies and sunshine, other days filled with dark skies and rain. It wasn’t easy, but you had Bradley and Bradley had you. There was calm and there was chaos, but you had each other to navigate your ways through any problem, together.

But sometimes, the best things in life are short lived.

Bradley spent 190 days with the love of his life.

Standing in the Hard Deck with a bunch of flowers, waiting for you to pull up after work, he fiddled with the ring in his free hand and let out a shaky breath. You hadn’t been in a relationship for a very long time, but they say when you know, you know. And Bradley knew. He knew in his heart without a doubt – even if he couldn’t find the right words, he knew that he fell more in love with you every single day. You were his sun, his moon, and his stars. You were his happiness, his best friend, and the kindest soul he had ever met. Sometimes he wondered if he ever told you enough. You never asked anything of him. You loved Bradley for who he was and never in his 36 years on earth did he ever think that somewhere in this world he would’ve found a heart like yours.

Bradley didn’t get the chance to propose. His time with you was cut short by an alcoholic who made the unwise decision to get behind the wheel of a car and take away not one, but two lives that night.

“Bradley!” You wailed from the top of the stairs. Bradley shot up from his seat on the couch and ran up the stairs tripping several times.

“What is it baby? Are you okay?” He asked, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, not overly concerned when he saw that you were okay.

Looking at him with tears in your eyes, body shaking, and one hand covering your mouth, you raised your other hand to reveal a positive pregnancy test.

“Oh my god, honey, are you – are you sure?” He asked, reaching out to take the test from you to double, triple check.

Nodding your head fervently “I’m absolutely sure, Bradley we’re going to have a baby. Oh god”

Bradley had never been so over the moon. Yes, it was seen as too soon to some, but you couldn’t think of any better blessing, and neither could Bradley. You were both ecstatic and couldn’t wait to start a family together. And that was all taken away from him too soon. He’ll never get to meet his baby. And he wishes, he wishes so hard for the 3am wake up calls for feeds, the dirty diapers, the screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night – all so he can count ten fingers and ten toes, hear that steady heartbeat, and look into the eyes of who he was hoping to be your double. But sometimes life has other plans.

Bradley can’t say he believes he will ever meet another person like you. Someone so full of light even in the darkest of moments. Someone who loved him for him. Someone who would give so much of themselves to others and never complain. Someone who saw the good in everything, saw the good in him.

The one night he’ll remember for the rest of his life, the night you lay in bed together, Bradley’s head resting on your stomach, your hands tracing the patterns of the freckles on his back like a constellation. The two of you dwelling in the afterglow of finding out that you were both going to be bringing a little one of your own into your lives, a mixture of you both, your baby. Bradley was ecstatic but anxious.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand the good that you see in me” He whispered.

“Bradley, its not the good in you that I see, my love. It’s the good that I see in this world when I’m with you, the good that you make me see.”

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. He had spent his whole life trying to push away the idea of love because he believed he would be the reason it wouldn’t work out. He had spent his whole life overcome with the grief that came with losing his parents. And he was okay with being alone, until he met you, an angel he believed his parents sent to him, to walk this earth by his side, for however long it was going to be. And despite his time being cut short with you, he had the most extraordinary and captivating experience of understanding what it’s like to love and be loved.

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