#Bradley's First Fathers Day

[roosterscockpit]

WE BACK BESTIES. HI. I AM NOT DED. (just inside)

Bradley's First 'Official' Father's Day | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader/Fam

Click here to see the master list

Can be read in conjunction with HLG or alone 🥹

A/n: It's Bradley's first Father's day and he doesn't even know it yet! How will it unfold? 🫣🥰

Word Count: 2.1k (although you babes deserve a whole lot more for having to wait 10 years for me to post again 😵‍💫)

Warnings: crying, cursing, but so much wholesome love ❤️

Please don't take my work, I will find you. 

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(Picture from Pinterest)

You, Mav, and Bradley were cleaning up the kitchen from dinner. Mav was drying the dishes as you handed them to him after washing them. Bradley was restoring the leftovers and placed them into the refrigerator.

Mav cleared his throat, “So Brad. Are you doing anything special for tomorrow?” He looked up at him and smiled as he dried one of the plates in his hand. 

Bradley smiled and looked at him awkwardly. “Work? Is that special enough, Mav?” He chuckled and shook his head.

Mav opened his mouth to talk again and you gave him wide eyes and shook your head. You wanted to keep it a surprise. You placed your finger to your lips to signal Mav to keep his mouth shut. Mav raised his brows and gave you a nod and a thumbs up.

“What do you all have planned at work tomorrow?” Mav carried the conversation with Bradley as he continued to put the plates away.

Bradley closed the refrigerator door and turned around. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the refrigerator’s door. He sighed, “You know, I think tomorrow is just an inspection day for the junior officers. So we will be going, or I will be checking out everyone's aircraft with maintenance teams to make sure they are up to par.” Bradley looked down and pressed his lips together. “So boring stuff.” He started to laugh. 

Mav made his way over to Bradley and patted him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the senior officer life, Brad.” Bradley shook his head at Mav and rolled his eyes while he pushed Mav’s chest playfully. 

You turned off the water to the sink and turned to the both of them. Bradley smiled and walked over to you. He had his hands out and placed them on your belly. “How about the four of you? What do you, Leia Rey, and the boys have planned?” He kissed your cheek and rubbed over your stomach. 

You scoffed, “Me, the boys, and Leia Rey have a couple of errands to run tomorrow.” You smiled and pinched Bradley’s cheek softly. He shook his head against your hand.

“Please have Papa Mav come with you. I don’t want you to do any bending over, heavy lifting, anything like that.” He raised his brows at you waiting for your answer. 

You smiled and nodded, “Of course.” 

Bradley placed a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m going to go to bed now. I have to be up early for work. I love you, baby. Good night.” He placed a kiss on your lips and two on your belly. “Good night, boys. Daddy loves you.”

Bradley walked over to Mav and gave him a hug good night. “Night, Mav. Thank you for helping out my girl tomorrow.”

Mav patted Bradley’s back. “Even if she wasn’t heavily pregnant I would help her.” He started to chuckle. Bradley pulled back from the hug and kissed Mav’s cheek hard. “Aww, Bradley!” Mav pulled back laughing at Bradley’s kiss. Bradley laughed and patted Mav’s chest and then ducked down to kiss his belly too.

Bradley slapped Mav's full stomach hard. “Night, food baby!” 

Mav started to laugh and pushed Bradley off of him. “Good night, Rooster.” He said with wide eyes and nodding his head. 

Bradley laughed and jogged up the stairs, “Night!”

Mav came over to you and smiled, “So what are we getting for Bradley’s first Father’s Day?” He raised his brows. 

You smiled and gave him a devious look, “It’s going to be cute and obnoxious.”

Mav hummed and nodded his head, “Like him. I like it.” 

————-

Bradley’s POV

I was at work finishing up the last couple of inspections for the day. I was so tired and ready to head home and relax. I had been out on the tarmac in the hot and humid weather for the whole 12 hours. I felt like my feet were burning up in my boots. They were ready to melt into the hot asphalt.

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.” 

I turned as one of my junior lieutenants, Riot, was coming up to me as I inspected his plane. He stuck his hand out to me and smiled. I grabbed his hand and shook it. “Sir.”

I smiled, “Riot, are you here to distract me from inspection?” I started to laugh. 

He shook his head and chuckled. “No, sir. I just wanted to wish you a Happy Father’s Day before I headed out.” I stopped the inspection and furrowed my brows before I turned to him slowly. “Leia and the boys are lucky to have a dad like you, sir.” He gave me another smile. 

I raised my brows. Holy shit today was Father’s Day? I gave him a smirk and patted his back, “Thank you, Riot. I truly appreciate that. Happy Father’s Day to you as well.” I bumped his fist and he was off. I slowly turned back to his aircraft and finished the check. “Huh, Father’s Day… No wonder Mav asked if I had anything special for today.” I chuckled and met back up with the maintenance team to give them the last bit of paperwork. 

————

Your POV

You, Leia, and Mav were setting up all of Bradley’s gifts for his first official Father’s Day. 

“Momma! Where should I put these balloons for Daddy?” She was holding a big bouquet of balloons in her hands. If she were outside you were more than positive she would be taken away with all the balloons. She looked at you with her eyes wide, excited, and smiling.

“You can set them up over there so when he walks in he can see them right away.” You pointed in the direction of the open space by the doorway. 

Leia ran over with the balloons and set them up for her dad’s arrival. You and Mav were finishing up some final touches. Mav looked at the time. “1530. He will be home in 30 minutes. Phoenix and Hangman just texted me that they are all on their way back.” 

You let out a little scream as you continued to set up his gift. “OH MY GOSH!” You started to laugh. 

————

Bradley’s POV

I just pulled into the driveway with Phoenix and Hangman. I hopped out of the car and they both came out of Hangman’s car. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Rooster.” Hangman smirked at me as he slapped my back hard. 

I let out a cough as the air was forced out of me from his slap. I chuckled, then threw my arm around his neck and pulled him down in a headlock. “Thanks, Seresin.”

Phoenix came over and wrapped her arm around me. “Happy first official Father’s Day, Bradshaw.” She patted my stomach as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Thanks, Trace.”

Hangman stood up and unlocked the door for the three of us. When the door opened we were all greeted by you, Mav, and Leia. 

Leia came running to me and jumped into my arms. “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” She covered me in kisses as you made your way over with Mav. You both had your arms out and came over to hug me. You and Mac sandwiched kissed my face as I laughed. 

You rubbed your thumb on my cheek and smiled. “Happy Father’s Day, Bradley.” I kissed your forehead and winked at you.

“Thank you, Sweetheart.” I let Leia down and she pulled me into the other living area. My eyes widened as I saw all the decorations set up for me. “Holy shit, is this all for me?” I chuckled as Leia pulled me over to the table.

“Yes, Daddy! It’s all for you! Momma, Brothers, and Papa Mav helped me set up everything! Do you like it?” She looked up at me with a big smile plastered across her face. 

I picked her up and kissed her cheek. “I love it, my little Leia. Thank you.” 

~~~~~

After we all ate dinner, Leia came over and gave me a gift. “Open it, Daddy.” She nudged me and nodded. I smiled and placed my water on the side of the couch. I sat up straight and she sat right next to me. “Papa Mav helped me make it.”

I shook the little box and Leia scoffed. I chuckled and patted her head. I unwrapped the little box and opened the lid. Inside was a silver heart with the letters “L.L.B” engraved on it. “Aww, babe, this is so nice! Thank you. A heart with yours and your brother’s initials.” 

“Wait! Turn it over! There is more!” She grabbed it from my hand and flipped it over. “Read it!” 

I read the little words out loud. “Fly safe. Love daddy’s co-pilots.” I smiled and kissed Leia’s temple. “I love it, sweetheart. I’ll keep it with me at all times.” Everyone looked around at each other and started to coo at the cute note. 

“I have one more gift for you, Brad.” Mav stood up slowly and smiled.

I shook my head. “Oh no, Mav, please. You didn’t have to get me anything. Being here is enough.” He waved me off as he walked over to the storage closet. I looked at everyone with wide eyes. 

Mav came over with a big long box. I looked at him carrying the box that was nearly as big as him. “Holy shit. Mav… What the hell is that?” I stood up and went to grab it from him. He started to chuckle. I looked at the box with big eyes. “Mav. Christ.”

He laughed and patted my back. “Something I’ve been saving for you. I hope you love it.”

I opened the lid of the box and pulled out the wooden casing. I started to chuckle. “Awww! No way! Thank you, Mav!” I held up the casing and saw my old retired LT. Bradshaw whites in the casing. “This is freaking Sweet!”

Mav chuckled. “Brad.” I looked over at him with my brows raised. “Read the name tag again.” I furrowed my brows and looked closer at the tag.

“N. Bradshaw.” I looked up at him slowly. “These are my dad’s?” He nodded slowly and smiled. I opened the case’s door and rubbed my thumb over the medals. I started to tear up. “Wow. This is even better.” I sniffled. “Thanks, Mav.”

He let out a little chuckle and came over to me. He kissed the top of my head and gave it a pat. “I love you, Brad. Happy Father’s Day, Kiddo.”

Hangman stood up and grabbed a bag out from behind him. “Well, there is no way Phoenix and I can give our gifts now. That was like the best gift ever after, Vapor girl’s gift.” We all laughed as he handed a bag to Mav and Phoenix handed the other bag to me. 

Mav looked at the bag shocked. “Wait!? For me!?” He was wide-eyed and excited. 

Hangman laughed and nodded. “From all of us, Mav. Happy Father’s Day.” He patted him on the back. 

Mav looked at everyone with a Smirk as he ripped the tissue paper out from the bag. He pulled out a shirt and read it to himself. “OH MY GOD! I LOVE IT!” He was laughing hysterically as he turned it around. “You can’t tell me what to do. You are not my granddaughter!” He could barely catch his breath as he said what the shirt said. 

“There’s more!” Leia yelled over to Mav. Mav threw the shirt on over his and looked in the bag for the next gift. He pulled out a frame and smiled as he read what was in it. He turned it around, “Best papa in the galaxy.” He looked at it and smiled even bigger. “I’m putting this in my workspace when I get home. Thank you everyone!” He went around and gave everyone hugs and kisses as I opened my bag.

Inside was a frame that read, “I am their father.” And under was a pink lightsaber with Leia’s name on it, A blue one with little Bradley’s name on it, and a Green one for Luke.  “This is Perfect. Holy shit!”

I turned it around and showed it off. “Thank you everyone!” I went around and gave my hugs and kisses to everyone. 

~~~~~~

At the end of the night, you and I were lying in bed. You were cuddled on my chest as I played with your hair. “Thank you, baby.”

You looked up at me and smiled. “For what?”

I smiled and rubbed your cheek. “For giving me the best gift of them all.” You furrowed your brows and pulled your head back to look at me. You tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes. I kissed your nose and smiled. “For making me a father.” 

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Hi, my loves! (It's been a minute, huh Mav?) I am so sorry for being MIA for a long time. But I will try to be more active because I really miss being here and interacting with you all. Thank you for being here and reading. a special thanks to everyone who has stuck around this long with me and my stories. I value you all so much. Thank you for still being here with me. I love you all so much! I will see you all in the next one! (HLG POST 🫣)

My day ones are in the comments 🫶🏼

[the-ace-with-spades]

Sure, Bradley maybe is absolutely horrified that Jake thinks Mav, his dad father figure, is hot

But how the tables have turned when he meets Jake's dad because holy fuck, genetics are strong in that family - and Jake's dad looks exactly like Jake, but twenty-or-so years older, with a farmer's tan and graying hair and completely gray stubble and a bit softer built

And Bradley's pretty freaking good at not showing that he had goddamn hot flashes for like the whole of the first day at Jake's parents' house BUT then Jake's mom takes out the albums and would you look at that, young Jake's dad looks exactly like young Jake

And Bradley says, "So, you've always looked a lot like your dad."

And Jake is all, "Yeah, my mom used to say I'm only my dad's kid because I look like his clone."

And then Bradley goes all silent looking at the young Jake's dad on the photo and then at Jake's dad right in front of them and goes all red. "So, you'll probably look like your dad when you get older."

"Yeah?"

And Bradley gets so red even his ears are red and he's still staring at Jake's dad on the other side of the living room and says, "Good."

It takes Jake a second but when he does get it, he is horrified and disgusted and he's never ever again inviting Bradley to see his parents

[warnersister]

Personal Space (two Bradshaws like it now)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: A sequel in which you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space. Even more so now you’ve had a baby, apparently.

Can be read as a part 2, but doesn’t have to be. Read Personal Space here

You really didn’t know when it all happened, when you and Bradley became a thing. At first he was just an annoying crew member you couldn’t shake off your tail. Then he was your wingman. Then you got accidentally placed into marriage accommodation and the two of you played it off so you could get better housing. Then you actually bought a house. And then somewhere along the way you got married.

“Where shall we have the wedding?” Bradley asked and you raised a brow “register office” you shrug “what you don’t want a wedding?” He asks, hand on his chest as he feigns offence. “You do?” You ask and he nods vigorously. You huff. “Fine” “so shall we do it on the beach?” He asks “okay” you just go along with it, hardly even entertaining the idea at all.

“So? What do you think?” Nat asks as she makes you pivot in a white gown “I think I look like a roll of toilet paper” you said, crossing your arms “maybe it’s just not the dress for you?” She reasons and you shake your head “just not really into the whole idea of this wedding. I kinda thought we’d just sign papers and get on with it” you said “well you picked Bradshaw, he’s a drama queen at the best of times” she says and you him in agreement; your consultant leading you back to the fitting rooms “let’s try another”.

You’d left with a sleeved dress; hating the idea of having a low cut dress, and begging Nat to just let you leave. Sure, you loved the dress - but you loved the idea of getting out of that suffocating shop more.

“Hey honey” Bradley had said, hearing you walk into the house and set your keys on the kitchen counter. “Hi” you reply shortly, moving to fill your cup with water from the sink. “How was your day?” He asked, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you from behind. “Good. Bought a wedding dress” you say simply “you did what?!”

Then on your wedding day, you’d stared at yourself in the mirror far too long. “You look gorgeous” Penny whispers, squeezing your shoulders comfortingly “I look like a fucking pin up doll” you huff, not necessarily believing yourself - just not used to being such a central perspective of attention. “Wow” your dad says, walking into the room “you look gorgeous” he whispers “is there an echo in here?” You mumble, but smile at him “thank you” you say, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “C’mon, Bradley’s nearly about to come get you himself”

You showed up to the beach-front wedding right on time, completely dead against the idea of being in any way, shape, or form late. Your father gave you away, Bradley in floods of tears at the end of the isle by the time you’d gotten there. “You look incredible” he whispers, lips quivering as he stares at you “shut up you’re going to make me cry.” You grumble, but smile. “It’s okay to cry.” He says, as the ceremony begins. “You may now kiss your bride” and Bradley dipped you and kissed you sweetly, drowning out the cheers of those around you. “I love you, Bradshaw.” You say, smally, “I love you more, sweetheart” he says and kisses your forehead “you’re crying” he points out “shut up”

And then you looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test two years later. You hummed “okay” and looked at yourself in the mirror, knowing nothing else other than the fact that you had to tell Bradley right that second. You marched downstairs, where he was sat playing with some keys on the piano you’d bought him last Christmas, stopping next to him. “Hey baby, y’alright?” He asked, and you just held out the stick to him. “What’s this?” He asks, taking it from you and looking over it once. “You serious?” He asked, looking at you; smile growing from ear to ear “you’re pregnant?” He almost whispers “unless the other four lied.” you say and he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing all over your face until you shouted at him to stop.

He knelt down and looked at your stomach, kissing it gently then moving to put his ear against it “uh huh” he hummed “Bradley what are you-” “shush I’m talking to em” he says and you stand, unimpressed, but let him nonetheless. “Oh yeah baby, I’m excited to meet you too” he coos “yeah, yeah, I’m your dad” and you audibly giggle. He looks up at you, eyes wide “you done?” You ask and he nods “yeah little one was done talking” he smiles, and hugs you close again. “I need to get the baby clothes out of the attic” he mumbles, kissing your temple “the what?” You ask “I bought them when we started renting the house!” He says, dragging you excitedly up the stairs “but we own the house, Brad” you him “no, no, the one we had during the mission!” He says and you gasp internally, realising how long the two of you had been together without even noticing it.

“Hey dad” you say, as you and Bradley head into the hangar he and you owned “hey honey, hey Brad” your dad greets, wiping the oil from his hands to come over and talk to the two of you. He kissed your forehead and hugged you, then your husband before walking back over to the aircraft he was working on. “Thought you needed a new picture for your pinboard” you hum “oh? I just added the wedding photo!” He says, excitedly, showing you the filled gap. “Okay, guess you don’t want the sonogram of your grandchild.” You say, turning to head out before Bradley hurriedly grabbed you and turned you back into the situation, pulling the strip of photos from his breast pocket. Your dad stood with his jaw wide open “you’re-” he breathes “you’re really pregnant?” He asks as his eyes well with tears “well I wouldn’t lie-” you say but he just pulls you into a big bear hug, pinning Baby Bradshaw’s picture onto his board.

You head to go look at the part of the engine your dad couldn’t quite fix while Bradley held back with Maverick. He turns to him and shakes his hand “your dad would’ve been so proud.” He says, smiling at Bradley “I know you are.” Rooster smiles, wordlessly being pulled into a hug with his father-in-law.

Then one evening you were sat up in bed, Bradley sound asleep beside you as you look down at the barely visible bump. Bradley had sort of a sixth sense, somehow knowing you weren’t asleep beside him. “Hey, baby what’s up?” He croaks, immediately moving to sit up with you when he sees his senses were correct. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Bradley.” You say, staring ahead at the wall “what do you mean?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I mean I’m a fighter pilot, I was raised by a single father, I never had that maternal instinct, what am I doing?” You whisper, and when Bradley managed to finally pull your face towards him you were crying “oh sweetheart” he hums, pulling you into him gently “you’re gonna be the best momma ever, and the fact that you worry proves that. I love you, okay?” He comforts “I know. I love you too.”

You were stubborn the whole pregnancy. You thought it was ridiculous that people just stopped when they were pregnant, and Bradley was trailing you trying anything to get you to just relax. “Hen, please!” He begs as you head out for your morning run “I’m three months pregnant, Bradley. I’m not incompetent.” You snap, as he begrudgingly pulls on his running shoes and follows you out the door. He pulled you back anytime you went quicker than a 10 minute mile “Bradley, if you slow me down one more time I’m going to pull your arm out of your socket” you snap and he holds his hands up “message received.”

Then one day, at around the sixth month mark you walked into the house and slammed the door so hard it rattled. “What’s up?” Bradley asked, as you practically threw your stuff on the floor. “They’re putting me on the desk.” You grumble, anger evident in your eyes while his soften “oh baby we knew that was gonna happen” he soothes, rubbing your arm reassuringly “no! No we didn’t! I was perfectly fine hiding the bump, but no!” You huff “I’m Bradley Bradshaw and all of California has to know my wife’s pregnant!” You imitate him but he just smirks “oh I’m so sorry that everyone needs to know you’re taken and carrying my baby” he says, smugly. “Don’t you smile at me Bradley-” you wag an accusatory finger at him, but he heaves you over his shoulder, and towards the stairs “c’mon, let’s help you blow off some steam” he reasons “y’know it’s possible to get pregnant while pregnant, right?” You ask and he cheers “woohoo! Two for one deal, sounds great!” He says and you can’t help but smile.

Then came your maternity leave, Bradley picked you up in his bronco. You were quick to head outside, and he kinda hated how well you hid the bump. “I’m done.” You huff, settling into the seat beside him “if that bitch from accounting asks me one more time if I want her herbal teas I’m going to knock her teeth out” you complain and Bradley chuckles “well, just me, you and Baby Bradshaw now” he says and you hum in agreement.

But when you approached your street, you rolled straight past your house and straight to the Hard Deck ‘congratulations on your baby’ banners plastered all over “welcome to our baby shower!” Bradley grins as you pull up “is this really necessary? They aren’t even here yet.” You tell him and he shrugs “thought it might take your mind off maternity leave” you smile at him “thanks, Brad”

And at one point in the evening, you sat Natasha and Bob down separately. “Hey Phoenix, can we borrow you?” Brad asked, pulling her away from her conversation “yeah of course guys!” You took a seat at a table and Bradley forced you to elevate your feet against your will. “What’s up?” She asks “how’d you like to be godmother to little Bradshaw?” Her eyes lit up when Bradley asked and she leant over the table to hug the two of you “oh I’d love too!” She announces, excitedly.

Then you head over to Bob, but Phoenix holds Rooster back “they have a special connection, let her do this”. You sit on the stool next to Bob and he offers you some peanuts which you refuse, and you stay sat in silence for a minute. “Bob can I ask you something?” You ask, as he pulls your calves up to rest in his lap “of course, hen” he says, brushing some crumbs off his top “what’s up?” “Well, the job we’re in isn’t an old job” you say and he laughs and agrees “it’s also dangerous” you say, and again - he nods. “So if anything happens to me and Brad, can you be there for little Bradshaw?” His eyes widen and start to swell with tears “will you be our godfather?” You ask and he nods, moving to miss your cheek “of course I will, hen. I’d be honoured.”

Bradley and you had started putting together your hospital bag at the 8 month mark. You were both premature so had a bit of superstition, especially with only being a few weeks off of the 40 mark. You’d placed the bag by the front door, along with a baby carrier in the middle seat of his Bronco.

It was week 38 when you were both putting together the crib beside your bed, two spare bedrooms and still you only wanted your baby beside you. “Okay all done, baby” your husband said “okay. My water broke three minutes ago” you say as calmly as he had, he nods, then whips his head back round “your water broke?” He asks and looks down, and indeed, your water had broken “oh my god your water broke?!” He announced, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out to the bronco, picking the hospital bag up on the way. “Ready to have a baby?” He asks, giddily. “Am I supposed to be?” You ask and he shakes his head with a smile “no”

You were dead silent during birth and it scared the shit out of Bradley. “Do you want an epidural, honey? They’ve offered-” “no.” “Can I get you more ice?” “No.” And he tried everything, even when it was time to push. You held his hand and your mouth was zipped shut. “Is she supposed to be this quiet?” He asked the doctor who just looked at him nonchalantly “it’s normal, all mothers react differently to birth” he said. “I’m a fighter pilot Bradley. I’ve had worse.” You grit. “Breathe baby” he tells you “I think you need to.” You say “stop being dramatic” you say as you push again “honey-” “either shut up or get out.” You tell him and he glues his mouth shut, at least until the baby comes.

Bradley cuts the chord and they hand you your baby, and your eyes widen as you stare at the baby on your chest “welcome to the world Nick Bradshaw” you coo at the baby and Bradley raised his brows “Nick?” He asks, voice cracking “what? Got a problem with that? You and your stupid dick” you grumble and Bradley laughs and shakes his head, kissing your forehead.

“Hey mom, shall we take baby so you can get some rest?” The nurse asked, leaning to take Nick from your arms “excuse me?” You asked, pulling your baby closer. “So you can sleep?” She suggests “I’ve carried him for nine months and now he’s here you’re taking him away?” You ask “well, some mothers like to sleep” “I can sleep when I’m dead.” You deadpan, and she realised that Nick wouldn’t have been pried from your hands even if you were dead, so she left you all alone.

“Taking you away from mommy? Who does she think she is?” You whisper to baby Nick. “Welcome back to the world, Bradshaw.” You say and Bradley can only smile and hold the two of you close.

You’re going to be just fine in this mommy role.

——————————

Part 2-ish? I know it was really well liked and I enjoyed writing it so hope you enjoy this one too!

-> @rosiahills22 here’s another one!

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bagman

warnings: none.

summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.

a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READER’S POV:

Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.

The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s—since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.

“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.

“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”

“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”

“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”

He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.

“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.

“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.

“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”

“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.

It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.

“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.

“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.

“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.

I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.

“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.

“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.

“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.

I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.

“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.

“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.

“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”

The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.

After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.

“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”

“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.

“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.

“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”

“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.

“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.

“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”

I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.

“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.

“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.

__________________________________________________________

JAKE’S POV:

“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.

“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”

“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”

“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”

“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.

By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.

“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”

“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”

“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”

Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.

“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.

“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”

“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”

I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.

“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”

“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”

“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.

“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.

“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”

Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.

“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”

“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.

Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.

“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.

“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.

“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”

The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”

“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.

______________________________________________________

READER’S POV:

I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”

“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.

“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.

“How did you get my number, Bagman?”

“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.

“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.

It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?

[kyber-crystal]

i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw

summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO

a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)

I. meet me in the middle

“Mav!”

You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”

“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 

“Be more specific.”

“I am being specific, Captain.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Fine, I need your daughter.”

“You always need her for something.”

“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”

“Actually, I’m hungry.”

“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”

“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”

“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”

You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 

It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.

“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 

“And?”

“You can sit over there.”

“I don’t want to, though.”

“Alright, then.” 

You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)

Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 

There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 

The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.

But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 

But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.

“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”

“Thanks…” 

He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 

“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”

This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”

II. waiting on you

As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 

“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”

Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 

Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

“No.”

“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”

You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 

Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”

“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.

“Ah. Makes sense.”

“So, we need to do something about it.”

“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”

“You’re so right, man.”

III. rose-tinted glasses

“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.

“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 

“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.

“Where?”

“I’m looking right at her.”

“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”

“No, you’re even better.”

You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 

“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”

Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Wow…it sure is.”

He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 

Everything seems to fall into place. 

IV. for you, i’d cross the line 

“Y/N, hey.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”

You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 

You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 

The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 

“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”

“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”

“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 

It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 

You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.

Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 

V. saving grace

You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”

“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”

“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”

“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”

“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)

He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”

Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”

That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 

“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 

You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 

You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 

epilogue—soul ties 

“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”

His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 

He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 

“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”

“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”

You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 

“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”

Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 

—

10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 

“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 

You shake your head. 

“Come on. It’s been all day.”

“No.”

“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”

“No,” you muttered bitterly. 

“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 

“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 

“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”

“What,” you exhaled.

"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."

Your heart stops.

Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 

You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 

This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.

“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”

You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”

You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 

“Sweetheart…”

“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”

“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I waited ten hours.”

“You should’ve gone home and slept.”

Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”

He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”

Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.

As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 

When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 

And you were most certainly right about that now. 

“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”

Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”

Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 

“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”

He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.

He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 

I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 

And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 

tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi

(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never imagined he'd get to have even one all encompassing love of his life, let alone two. But he could barely put Rose down for more than a minute, already wrapped around her tiny fingers. He couldn't wait to take both of you home.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, swearing, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Exhaustion washed over you like a wave as soon as your daughter was born. The pain started to subside only to be replaced by a bone deep desire to close your eyes and not open them again for a very long time. You were sweaty and damp everywhere, and your head felt fuzzy. But as soon as you heard your daughter start to cry, it felt like a jolt of adrenaline hit your nerves.

The sound of Rose wailing made you smile even as tears streaked down your cheeks, and Dr. Morris said, "Congratulations. A perfect little girl. Time of birth, 1:02 a.m. on March twenty-second." She was officially here.

Your husband's smile matched your own as he whispered, "That's our perfect little girl, Sweetheart."

"It's Rosie," you sobbed, and Bradley kissed your lips while you tried to catch your breath. The nurses were weighing and measuring Rose, and you wanted to hold her, but your arms felt so heavy, you weren't sure you would be able to. But you were just in awe of her. "We have a daughter."

"A Nugget," Bradley replied with a nod, his voice shaking slightly with emotion. Rose was naked and crying, and your husband had the softest look you'd ever seen on his face. His excitement to become a father made your entire pregnancy easier, because you didn't feel alone. He'd been worshipping your body and writing in the notebook for months, promising you he was ready for this. And now, as the nurse approached both of you with your daughter, it was his time to get exactly what he wanted.

"You hold her first, Daddy," you whispered, and he was instantly reaching out to take her. She looked perfect in his arms.

"Oh my god. Look at her," he gasped as she tried to snuggle against him.

"She really is perfect," you whispered, and he nodded as he watched her yawn with a big smile on his face.

"Rose Carole Bradshaw," he said, voice deep with emotion as he carefully placed her in your arms. "We already love you so much."

You gasped as the weight of your child pressed against you, and Bradley ran his fingers along her fuzzy hair as one of the nurses started to untie your gown and open it. "Try some skin to skin contact with the baby," she said softly, wiping Rose clean as she curled up against your bare chest.

Your hand came to rest on her back, and you weren't even surprised to find your vision was blurry again. "She's so small," you marveled as she puckered her lips and rubbed her face against you. When you met Bradley's gaze, he was still kneeling next to the bed with the sappiest, lovesick smile on his face.

"She looks like you," he whispered, tracing her tiny shoulder with his index finger. "God, she's so cute."

You looked up at the nurse, realizing you were going to be leaving the hospital in the next day or two, at which point you and Bradley would be completely on your own. Your nipples were leaking like crazy at the moment as Rose let out a soft cry. "Is she hungry? How do I know if she's hungry? Am I supposed to just like put her on my boob?"

Bradley grunted in response, his finger trailing up Rose's arm. He probably thought he was in for a treat hours ago when your water broke, but now he was cracking his back and trying to stand, wincing as he stretched. Luckily the nurse had mercy on you and helped you get Rose into position while Bradley leaned on the bed next to you.

"If she's hungry, she might latch right on. If she doesn't seem to be getting the hang of it, you can talk to a lactation specialist in a few hours."

But you didn't think that would be an issue. Your daughter seemed hungry and also seemed to know what she needed to do in order to be fed. "Oh!" you gasped at the feel of her. It was foreign but not unpleasant, and really nothing you'd ever seen before was as adorable as your own baby. Her little fingers were curled into a fist which was resting on your chest as she ate.

When the nurse walked away, Bradley leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Don't worry," he murmured, running his nose along your cheek, "if you've got any issues, I'm actually something of a lactation specialist myself." You couldn't help but laugh as he let his hand come to rest on top of yours where you were holding Rose in place. "You did this, Sweetheart," he whispered, clearly already entranced by his daughter. "You made my life better than my wildest dreams."

You wanted to argue and tell him that you did it together, but Rose seemed to be getting tired which was making you tired. Her tiny yawn was too cute for words, and now her nose was pressed into the side of your boob as she made herself comfortable.

"Close your eyes," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "I'll watch over both of you. I won't go anywhere."

Within minutes, you fell asleep in the hospital bed, mostly naked with your daughter occasionally wriggling against your chest and your husband's hand in yours.

--------------------------------

"You're something else," Bradley murmured with a chuckle. You dozed off and on for the rest of the night while he held Rose, handing her over each time she got fussy, looking for something to fill her belly. "But you're just so damn cute."

"Don't swear in front of the baby," you murmured as you curled up on your side, watching him. "I don't want her to have all of your bad habits."

As if you couldn't teach a class on Creative Cursing, especially considering the things you said when you were in labor. Bradley kissed Rose's tiny fist and said, "Mommy doesn't know what she's talking about about. I don't have any bad habits."

"Okay," you said a bit sarcastically. "Then what would you consider a potty mouth? And snacking all day long?"

Bradley laughed. "Well, she has the snacking thing down already. Can't keep her away from your tits for more than an hour or two." He kissed her soft skin again. "Just like your old man."

She yawned and curled up, wrapping her fingers in his bit of chest hair. He'd taken his undershirt off, wanting to try the skin to skin thing for himself, and that's when he realized just how relaxing it was. This must have been why you fell asleep so easily earlier with Rose on your chest. She was like a heating pad. Or a little blanket that smelled sweet.

"Has she been in her bassinet at all?" you asked. 

Bradley looked at the metal cart on wheels with the bassinet on top of it and shook his head. The thing looked cold and uncomfortable, nothing like the crib waiting for her at home. But he smiled when he read the card that had been placed in the side of it. 

Rose Carole Bradshaw

Born: March 22nd, 01:02

Length: 19 inches

Weight: 6 pounds, 14 ounces

"No, I've been holding her. Why would I put her down?"

You and Rose yawned in unison. "So you can change out of your flight suit and get some rest."

The fabric was rough, but the sleeves were tucked out of the way; he wouldn't make his perfect little girl touch anything that wasn't soft. "I'm fine," he promised, his boot squeaking on the floor as he adjusted his foot. He carefully stood with Rose held firmly against his chest and murmured, "You didn't even give Daddy a chance to get changed after work. You were too excited to stay put any longer."

"Work," you gasped, looking around the room. "Where's my phone? Did I leave it at home? I need to tell Bickel I won't be at work. Oh my god, I need to call my parents!"

"I took care of it," he replied softly, walking around and bobbing a little bit so she would stay asleep. "Bickel has been texted. Your parents have been, too. Jake and Nat and the others all know I'm the proudest dad in the world. I took a bunch of pictures on your phone, and now it's charging by the window. I've got this. Just relax."

That's when two of the younger, female nurses walked in again. The ones who seemed to gawk at him whenever he greeted them. Bradley nodded in their direction while he unplugged your phone with one hand and held Rose with the other.

"Just checking to see if you need anything," one of them said, eyes trailing down to where his flight suit was bunched up around his hips. At least the second nurse was attaching the blood pressure cuff to your arm as she stared at him. 

"My wife probably wants breakfast," he mused. "Do you have any little packets of hot sauce? I forgot to pack some in the overnight bags."

"I'll take care of it," the first nurse said, almost running from the room before she even asked what you wanted to eat. When they were both gone, you laughed at Bradley as you stretched and got out of bed. 

"They can't handle how hot you look," you told him, walking around carefully. You'd obviously be sore for a few days, and he didn't want you lifting a finger for a single damn thing. But as you made your way toward him with a smile on your face, his heart beat a little faster. 

"I can't handle how hot you look," he murmured, still bouncing slightly in place as Rose snoozed.

You glared at him. "I just delivered a baby like seven hours ago. I look gross. I smell disgusting."

"You're perfect."

He collected you against his side and watched as you leaned in close until your nose barely touched Rose's, and a smile found your lips. "How did we make something so cute?" you whispered, hand coming to rest on Bradley's bare abs. "I can't stop looking at her."

"Right? I mean, my god, Sweetheart... I'm never going to be able to put her down."

You rubbed his flat tummy and whispered, "Look, she's waking up. I want a turn," as you tried to reach for her. Rose immediately started crying, and Bradley laughed.

"Better get your tits ready. She's hungry."

Of course the nurse showed up just in time to hear that and see those beautiful tits as you settled on the small sofa with Rose. The baby calmed down again immediately when she realized you were going to feed her, and Bradley collected the enormous breakfast platter with a smile as the nurse stared at his bare chest.

"Thanks," he murmured when he saw the tiny bottles of hot sauce. "My wife loves hot sauce."

The nurse looked at you a bit wistfully as she turned to leave again, but you were completely absorbed with Rose. "She's adorable," you crooned. "Even her crying sounds kind of cute."

"I didn't want to say anything before," Bradley said, almost relieved, "but it's a very cute cry." 

He took a few enormous bites of the bacon, eggs and pancakes, realizing he was running on pure adrenaline and about to crash if he didn't get something in his stomach. Then he loaded up the fork with eggs dipped in hot sauce and carefully fed it to you, cupping his hand over Rose's head so he didn't make a mess while she enjoyed her own breakfast.

The bead of milk forming on your nipple was highly distracting, and Bradley grunted as he watched you feed her until she was full and drowsy again. He wanted to ask you if you'd let him taste you again when he got the three of you home, but your parents called while you were finishing your pancakes. When he switched the call over to facetime, both of your parents started crying.

"Rose! She's beautiful," your mom said, wiping at her eyes with a tissue.

"How's everyone doing?" your dad asked, leaning in closer to get a better look at their granddaughter asleep in a onesie in Bradley's arms.

You started to tell him that you were feeling pretty good when your mom cut you off. "When can we come out to San Diego? Tomorrow? Next week? I need to hold that little girl in person as soon as possible."

Bradley chuckled while you sighed. "Mom, just let us get settled at home with Tramp for a day or two, okay? And then we can decide?"

She nodded, but it didn't seem like she was listening as her head tilted to the side with a sigh. "She's just perfect, isn't she?"

"Just like my wife," Bradley remarked, and your mom swooned a little bit more.

You spent the next five minutes trying to get them to end the call before you promised to send dozens of photos throughout the day, but it wasn't until Dr. Morris arrived that they actually agreed to go.

"You gave us a bit of a scare with your blood pressure," your doctor remarked, checking it one more time for herself. While she did so, she looked at Bradley and said, "You can send the baby down to the nursery for a bit if you need a break."

He stared at her and snuggled Rose a little tighter. "No, I'm fine." He couldn't fathom that anyone would want to put their newborn in one of those bassinets and send them to the nursery. He could sit here with her all day.

"How is my blood pressure now?" you asked as Bradley kissed the top of Rose's head over and over again while she slept.

"Much better," she promised, and Bradley let out the breath he wasn't really aware he had been holding. "I'll probably send you home tomorrow morning, but I'll leave some information with you now that you can start reading." She turned toward Bradley as she handed you a folder and added, "The nurses in the nursery are there specifically so you can get some rest. And they know how to wrap the babies up in their receiving blankets like tiny burritos."

"Really?" Bradley asked, suddenly intrigued. "Could they teach me how to do the burrito wrap?"

"I'm certain they could," she said with a smile before leaving.

"Do not put hot sauce on our child," you said, tossing your hospital gown aside and standing there naked. It was strange to see your belly this way as he held the child in question. You were somewhere between your normal state and your fully pregnant state, and it was just something he would have to get used to seeing. "I'm going to take a shower."

Bradley reached for your hand, and you let him have it. "I'm going to turn our child into a burrito."

"Please put a shirt on first. It's really too much, Roo." You smirked before ducking into the bathroom. 

Very, extremely begrudgingly, Bradley set Rose down in the uncomfortable looking bassinet for the very first time while he dug around in his overnight bag for a shirt. Then he carefully rolled her to the nursery where one of the nurses wrapped Rose up into a very soft pink and blue blanket. It was striped and reminded him of the Nugget notebook, and she looked snug and sleepy in it.

"Can you make sure I do it right?" he asked the nurse. "I want to impress the hell out of my wife."

She smiled and carefully unwrapped the baby so he could try. Rose stretched her fist up toward the light and smiled when he ran his fingers along her cheek. "She's your first?" the nurse asked him while he got to work.

"Yeah," he replied, grinning. He paused before adding, "She was born less than twelve hours ago, but it feels like she's been around since I first learned about her. Been getting excited since July." He tucked the end of the blanket in and patted her. "Looks just like a burrito."

The nurse laughed. "It's called a swaddle, and you're very good at it. Do you want to leave her in the nursery for a little while so you can get some rest?"

Bradley looked around at his surroundings. The room was cozy and clean, but he shook his head as he picked Rose up again. "Nah. I just can't seem to put her down for more than a minute or two," he replied, kissing her nose before she yawned again.

"You'll be a good dad."

--------------------------------

You lounged around in the hospital room in the robe you got from Nat, feeding Rose whenever she started to cry for you. Bradley was never too far away, opting to hold her as much as possible. As afternoon turned into evening, he eyed you up and down and said, "Do you want to put on some real clothes from your overnight bag?"

"Why?" Then there was a soft knock at the door, and you sat up in the bed. "I thought we said we'd wait until we got home to have visitors?"

"Well, this one wouldn't take no for an answer," he replied with a bit of an eye roll. He had Rose pressed against his chest with one big hand, and he opened the door to reveal Nat holding an enormous bouquet of colorful roses.

"Oh my god," she gasped, tossing the flowers onto the foot of the bed as soon as she saw the baby. "She's really here. You're really parents!"

Bradley held up his palm and said, "Go wash your germy hands," as soon as his best friend reached for the baby.

"Roo," you scolded with a smile. "Ask her nicely. She's Rosie's godmother."

Nat's dark eyes went wide and then welled up with tears as she ran into the bathroom. Bradley leaned down to give you a kiss. "Thanks," he murmured.

"I wanted it to be her, too," you insisted. "I mean, look how excited she is."

Nat ran back out of the bathroom, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and then plopped down on the couch. "Please?" she asked, making grabby hands at Bradley and Rose.

After he handed her over, your husband finally took the time to take off his boots, and he went into the bathroom to replace his flight suit with a pair of gym shorts. Then he climbed into the bed with you and murmured, "I'll just rest for a few minutes while Nat's holding her."

His heavy hand rested on the tie of your robe as you whispered, "I think that's a great idea." Three seconds later, he was snoring softly. He'd been awake for thirty-six hours, and he was the only one who seemed unable to admit that he was exhausted. But he was as entranced by your newborn as you were, and you didn't want to tell him he should put her down and rest when he was having the time of his life. 

You ran your fingers through his messy hair as Nat cooed softly at Rose. "You are adorable," she said before looking up at you. "Seriously, she's so cute."

"Bradley hasn't set her down for more than twenty minutes since she was born, and even then it was just so I could feed her or have a chance to hold her myself."

"Sounds like you got your dad wrapped around your tiny fingers already."

"She really does," you replied softly, tracing the scars on Bradley's cheek while he slept. You didn't rush Nat out of the room, and she didn't seem to want to leave. When Rose started fussing, she handed her over to you so you could feed her, and Bradley continued to snore. Once her belly was full, Nat walked her around until she burped, and soon she was yawning again.

"Should I just set her in the bassinet so everyone can sleep for a bit?" Nat whispered.

"Please."

She put her down as carefully as you would have yourself, then she rolled the cart over until it was right next to the bed. "Call me if you need anything once you get home. Groceries, someone to walk Tramp, a break from the baby, anything."

"Thanks, Nat," you said over Bradley's snores.

"I take godmothering very seriously."

---------------------------------

"I still can't believe you tricked me into sleeping all night."

"You were exhausted, Bradley."

"But I missed out on hours with the Nugget."

"But now she's about to go for her first ride in the Bronco. This is even more exciting."

Bradley was still pouting a bit as he drove the three of you home in his vintage Bronco the next morning, going about fifteen miles per hour. He'd never driven this slowly before in his life that you knew of, and you were getting impatient in the backseat with Rosie. She had her fingers wrapped around your thumb while you read through your discharge paperwork from Dr. Morris.

"This says we have to take Rose to the pediatrician within the next week. And there's a bunch of information on how we need to place her in her crib at bedtime. And we can't have sex for six weeks while I heal."

You were met with a few seconds of dead silence as you watched Bradley's face go pale in the rearview mirror. "Oh."

You pressed your lips together so you didn't snort. "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

Once more, silence. He cleared his throat. "Of course not." More silence. "But you can't seriously think that medical professionals expect me to live with you and not want to fuck you? Like, that's not accurate."

You laughed as Rose stared back at you from her car seat. "It's not like I'm going to leave you hanging, Roo." But you honestly didn't know how you were expected to get your husband going when your body looked like it had been weirdly deflated. And when you were this tired. And when you had to take care of your baby without the help of a full staff of nurses. 

Bradley coasted carefully into the driveway and parked next to the red Bronco. In an instant, he had the back door open and was helping you down. He kissed you hard on the lips. "You never leave me hanging. Ever. But I'm not concerned about that right now." You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his lips ended up teasing your ear as he said, "Let's get Rosie inside. I've been dreaming about showing her around her nursery for months."

--------------------------

We have a Rosie. We have a DILF. We have a MILF. We have a godmother. We just need a godfather. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[missmarveledsblog]

it's fate ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader )

Summary : from a young age carole bradshaw always told her son meeting his father was fate , it was like she knew he was the one from her , now older bradley starts to think of fate when he see's a beautiful face everywhere until one night she comes to the hard deck and well fate can be funny .

warnings : none , some fluffy goofy fun with the hawaiian shirt wearing aviator

Since he was a young boy to his earliest memories , his mother told him of soulmates and fate the way she met his father. even after his fathers death when love wouldn't be the first thought , yet Carole bradshaw told her son of true love instilled the idea into the young boys head . back then he told her girls were gross and yucky , then he got older he didn't see the fate or true love so he just put it down to his mothers love stick and broken heart rambles . his whole life he never thought of fate or true love well that was til her. He didn't know her name , nothing and yet when everywhere he went she was there .

At first it wasn't anything yeah he thought she was hot at a glance but never thought he would see the pretty stranger again . how wrong was he everywhere he went she was there . when he was entering the gym she was leaving , when she was entering the cafe he was leaving . Not once did he speak to her nor did she speak to him but this had to be something more ,he saw her more to point he was completely and utterly enamoured. the words his mother spoke finally making sense and for once in his life bradley felt shy almost unsure how to approach a woman like it was something he's never done before .

His friends the fellow members of the dagger squad were honestly over it , they heard of the mystery woman one times too many . How he was sure she was next mrs bradshaw he just needed to find the right way about it .

" what if the last time you seen her was the last time? Or what if she's a stalker " fanboy questioned .

" or if she exists i'm starting to think the g's are getting to you chicken , i doubt she'd be stalking him c" jake snided barely breaking his glance from the game before him to know he was irriatating the hell out of his friend.

"she's real bagman nat's seen her few times" .

" back of her head if that counts but she real" nat mused .

" and you rooster who probably only one of us who slept with the same amount of women as bagman hasn't done a thing about it ?" payback asked .

" next time i see her because well it's ... " he started .

" FATE" They called in unison .

" well i'll make a move " he smirked and sort of new found determined to prove them right.

" yeah or i'll show her a real man" jake snickered ignoring the glares being sent his way .

in all the talk of fate it seemed to be knocking as the bell above of the door rang out and it was like it called to him . when he stared in disbelief as he watched her walking in the doors . he couldn't believe they couldn't deny it now not when it was so obvious.

" there she is the next ..."

" do not finish that sentence chicken " jake stood only to see the woman in question eyes hit his .

" JAKE SERESIN YOU DUMBASS" she yelled the whole bar going quiet as she stormed pass.

"mrs bradshaw? " bradley whisper watching the girl he been pining after heading toward his friend , enemy it was a day to day thing between the two .

" i would ask if you were dropped on your head as child but i'm starting to think momma played basketball with that big ass head of yours " she growled.

" what i do now ?" he asked trying not to glare and feel sort of sick knowing this was the woman bradshaw was moping about .

" well one sleeping with my coworker she won't talk to me now and the fact you keep stealing my keys" she huffed.

" lets talk outside" he groaned watching . " don't need my little sister yelling all over damn bar".

" ohhh .... OHHH" nat eyes widened at sudden realisation of the scene before her.

" hey you look familiar" she stood looking directly at rooster only for jake to push he out to the door before another word could be exchange.

" so hangman's sister is your future wife man this fate stuff is absolutely amazing " nat broke out laughing as the other joined in .

" is really fate if she was there to see hangman like the gym and stuff" javy snorted.

" well fate is funny isn't alway cut clear but that was the future mrs bradshaw i am telling you guys and you all gonna look dumb at our wedding shit" bradley mumbled slightly questioning everything in the moment .

" you ain't marrying my sister chicken , she is off limits ... even to fate " jake huffed sitting back in his spot.

......

he tried to stay away really he did he pretended not to see her going as much to cross to the other side of the road . well it lasted one day but hey he tried or so he could tell himself that. standing in the bakery , his day well wasn't going to plan , the new recruits were dumber than a box of rock . it was one of those morning where if he wanted to go left he'd end up somehow going right so instead of going to the canteen for lunch he decided to enjoy his own company one where he wasn't listening to his fuck ups that were oh so hilarious to his friends . standing in line ready to order his pick me up when he heard that voice. one that had him cursing his mother in a busy cafe queue.

" iced caramel latte and ohh one of those brownies thank you" her voice god dam it was like some milk of magnesia sort of shit so smooth and calming and yet a little husk to it pair with the accent he hated to hear from bagman yet suddenly was loving the way it came out of hers .

" americano shot of espresso and three brownies thanks " he nodded trying to talk lowly.

" hey don't i know you" the voice called. yet all he could think was " wanna know me" but instead he just said:

" i was there when you yelled at bagman" a smile and his eyes soften instantly turning.

" yeah not first or last time .. looks busy in here tables filling fast i'll save you seat.. ?" she smiled brightly waiting for him to tell him his name.

" brooster...wait no it's radley .... am i having a stroke shit my name is bradley bradshaw" he felt his cheek heat up and his brain screaming at him calling him a dumbass.

" well bradley brooster radley .. names y/n seresin i'll see you over there" she laughed god even her laugh made his knee week and she didn't run from his clear frazzled brain moment and secretly thanking his mom in the line of a coffee shop .

he was almost begging his body not to trip or fall and make himself look like more of an idiot then he already did . she wasn't lying when she said it was busy and moment he walked to the table already staring down the man who was going to make his way over.

" well brooster you got enough brownies " she giggle as he place the small tower on the table .

" hey im a growing boy it's needed" he winked .

" do y'all ever grow up?" she teased.

" i'm more grown than your brother i would never steal your keys".

" why would you have them ?" she smirked .

" i was just erm ... god my brain is out for me today" he laughed breathlessly .

" i'm kidding so what brings you here .. other than its best place in this state" she asked softly.

" well it's my favourite spots , the coffee isn't watered down and it got a warm feel to it like cosy god i sound like a hallmark card" he sighed only for her to giggle he was never tired of hearing it , honestly if it got that reaction and sweet sound he was going to make more of an idiot of himself. the two talk away , talking about her work as a kindergarten teacher , he would talk about being in the navy . it was perfect once he got over the weird start . he was having so much fun he barely notice the time slip away til his phone began dinging away .

" shit i better get going but this .. this was cool" he stood .

" yeah it was .. maybe you would like to do it again" she smiled softly holding out her phone instantly he took it putting his number in watching as he called himself the two walked to the door only for her to be heading to same way .

" i swear i'm not following you look see the corvette that's mine" she snorted seeing how it looked .

" you like vintage cars?" he always yelled in disbelief .

" i do jake calls them flintstone mobiles " she rolled her eyes.

" well not to brag or anything the bronco beside it well that's my baby" he smiled proudly.

" well look at that looks like fate i met you today radly brooster bradley" she called out heading to her car . " i'll call you later" .

" well i'd be a sucker to turn down fate" he winked watching as she drove off . " yep that my future wife" he shook his head knowing he was going to have to deal with hangman sooner or later .

part two

A.N:Let me know if you want a part two but this was fun to write .

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Call Sign: Heartline

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader, Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Maverick's daughter and Rooster grew up together, bound by their fathers’ legendary friendship and their own shared dreams of flying. When they both get accepted into the Top Gun program, it feels like destiny—until Hangman enters the picture. With his effortless charm and undeniable skill, he throws her world off balance, igniting a rivalry with Rooster that runs deeper than competition.

Maverick's daughter and Rooster had been inseparable since childhood. Their fathers had been best friends, and that bond had naturally extended to them. Growing up, they had spent endless summers racing dirt bikes, sneaking onto airstrips to watch jets take off, and dreaming about the day they’d follow in their fathers' footsteps. When they both got accepted into the Top Gun program, it felt like fate.

"We actually did it," Rooster had said that first night after finding out. He had grinned, his excitement barely contained. "We're gonna do this together. Just like we always planned."

And for a while, it was just like they imagined—training together, pushing each other, celebrating victories, and laughing over the losses. But everything changed when Hangman entered the picture.

The first time she met Hangman, she was completely charmed. He had that cocky smirk, that easy confidence that made it impossible not to take notice. He shook her hand firmly, looking her right in the eye as if he had already decided they were going to get along.

"Maverick’s kid, huh?" he had said, grinning. "Guess that means flying’s in your blood."

She arched a brow. "And you must be Hangman—the guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to naval aviation."

He let out a laugh, clearly delighted. "Damn right. And you must be the one who’s going to give me a run for my money."

Before she could respond, Rooster let out a scoff, shaking his head. "Don’t waste your time with him," he muttered. "He’s just another arrogant guy who thinks he’s better than everyone else."

She smirked, tilting her head as she glanced back at Hangman. "I don’t know, Rooster. I think he’s kinda cute."

Hangman shot Rooster a victorious grin while Rooster groaned, already regretting everything.

He was cocky, arrogant, and insufferably charming. And somehow, against all odds, Maverick’s daughter found herself drawn to him.

It started small—arguments laced with teasing, accidental touches that lingered too long, stolen glances when they thought no one was looking. It wasn’t until one night at the Hard Deck, when Hangman pulled her onto the dance floor, that Rooster really noticed.

The jukebox played something slow but playful, and Hangman wasted no time taking her hand and spinning her toward him. "C’mon, sweetheart. Can’t let all that fighter pilot training go to waste—show me what you’ve got."

She laughed, cheeks flushing, but let him lead, his hands steady on her waist as they swayed and twirled around the floor. Every move was smooth, effortless, as if he had done this a hundred times before. And with every step, every flirtatious grin, she felt herself slipping further into his orbit.

"You’re just showing off now," she teased.

Hangman smirked, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush her ear. "Wouldn’t dream of it. I just like making you blush."

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth spreading through her said otherwise. A giggle escaped before she could stop it, and Hangman’s expression softened at the sound.

From across the bar, Rooster’s stomach twisted as he watched them, her laughter echoing over the music as Hangman spun her around with practiced ease. He tried to ignore it, telling himself it was nothing. But when he saw the way she looked at Hangman—like he was something she couldn’t look away from—he knew it was something.

At first, Rooster told himself it would pass. That she was just caught up in the moment, in the thrill of competition. But then he overheard Coyote mentioning that she and Hangman had gone on a date, and everything inside him snapped.

That night, he found her on the airstrip, staring up at the stars.

"So," he started, voice tight. "You and Hangman."

She turned, eyebrows furrowing. "What about me and Hangman?"

Rooster exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I just—I need to know. Is this just a thing, or... is it something more?"

She hesitated, then exhaled shakily. "It’s not nothing... but I hope it can be."

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "I should’ve said something sooner. God, I should’ve said something years ago."

She blinked at him. "Said what?"

"That I love you," Rooster admitted, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. "That I’ve always loved you. And that no one will ever understand you like I do."

She inhaled sharply, but before she could respond, Rooster was already stepping back. "Just—just forget I said anything. I just needed you to know."

She took a step forward, as if to call after him, but the words caught in her throat. Her hands clenched at her sides, her mind spinning. How had she not seen this coming? Or maybe she had, and she just refused to face it.

But before he could walk away completely, she found her voice. "Rooster, wait."

He stopped, his shoulders tense, but he didn’t turn around.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding. "If you wanted me so bad, why did you wait until I was in love with someone else?"

The words hung between them, heavy and raw. Rooster finally turned, his expression unreadable, but she barely registered it because the realization hit her like a jet breaking the sound barrier.

She was in love with Hangman.

She hadn’t known it until she said it out loud, until the truth formed and escaped her lips before she could stop it. And judging by the look on Rooster’s face, he knew it too.

It was too late.

Her breath was shaky as she turned back toward the airstrip, hugging herself against the cool night breeze. The weight of his confession pressed down on her, and suddenly, everything with Hangman felt... complicated.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense. Hangman.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

She swallowed hard, nodding, but when she met his eyes, she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. "Yeah. Just—just a lot to think about."

Hangman studied her for a long moment before nodding. "You wanna get out of here? Clear your head?"

She hesitated but eventually nodded. "Yeah. I think I do."

The next day, Rooster barely spoke to her. They were paired up for a training mission, but every time she tried to make conversation, he shut her out. His responses were clipped, his gaze distant. Finally, after another failed attempt, he turned to her, eyes cold. "You don't get to act like nothing happened. You chose him, so go fly with him."

She flinched at the sharpness of his words, the weight of his disappointment settling heavily in her chest. The Rooster she had always known, the one who had been by her side through everything, felt impossibly far away.

Flying together wasn’t the same. Their usual rhythm was off, their once effortless teamwork now strained. She could feel the tension in every maneuver, every second of radio silence between them. Then, in the middle of a high-intensity exercise, something went wrong.

Rooster’s jet malfunctioned.

"Rooster, you’re losing altitude!" she called through the comms, panic rising in her throat.

"Damn it, ejecting!" he responded just before the radio cut out.

Back at the base, chaos erupted as they lost contact with him. The rest of the squadron had returned, but Rooster was stranded, his jet down behind enemy lines in the exercise zone.

She didn’t think—she just moved. Racing toward the hangar, she threw on her helmet, ready to jump into a plane and go after him.

"Hey! Stop!" Maverick’s voice cut through the panic, his hand closing around her arm before she could climb into the cockpit. "You’re not going after him."

"I can’t just sit here!" she snapped, yanking against his grip. "He’s out there, alone!"

"And you going after him without a plan is just going to make it worse," Maverick said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I’ll go."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod, but as she listened to her father take off, her fingers dug into her arms. Every second felt like an eternity as she paced near the comms, waiting for his voice to crackle through. Then, suddenly—silence.

The radio cut out.

Her breath hitched. "Dad? Dad, do you copy?"

Nothing.

A horrible, crushing weight settled in her chest as panic clawed up her throat. Her mind spiraled into the worst-case scenarios. First Rooster, now Maverick—both gone? It felt impossible, unbearable.

Hangman stood nearby, watching her, watching the way her body tensed like a wire about to snap. His expression shifted, his usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found. He had never seen her like this before—utterly wrecked, desperate, terrified.

And that was when he made his decision.

"Screw this," Hangman muttered, turning on his heel. "I’m going in."

Hangman launched into action, breaking protocol without hesitation. "I’m not leaving him behind," he had said simply before taking off.

By the time Hangman got to Rooster, the situation was grim. Rooster had landed safely, but his radio was down, and he was out of options. Hangman’s voice was the first thing Rooster heard in the static.

"Bradshaw, you still breathing down there?"

"About damn time, Seresin. You here to rescue me or gloat?"

"A little of both," Hangman quipped, relief laced in his tone. "Now, let’s get you out of here."

When they returned to base, she was the first one there, waiting on the tarmac. The second Rooster climbed out of the jet, she nearly collapsed with relief. But her gaze flicked to Hangman, who looked at her like he knew exactly what she was feeling.

She ran straight to Rooster.

"Are you okay?" she breathed, hands gripping his arms as if to make sure he was real, that he was actually standing in front of her.

Rooster let out a slow exhale, his eyes searching hers. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

Her throat tightened. "I thought I lost you. I thought I lost both of you."

His expression softened just a fraction, then he let out a breath. "You didn't. You could never lose me." His voice was quieter now, more certain. "But we need to talk. Because I can’t keep doing this if I don’t know where we stand."

Tears stung her eyes. "I know I have to earn your trust back. And I will, Rooster. I swear."

He studied her for a moment before nodding. "Then start now."

Without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. Rooster stiffened for a brief second before exhaling, his arms coming around her just as tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in, grounding herself in the fact that he was here, alive, safe.

She squeezed his hands one last time before stepping back, inhaling deeply. With that, she turned and found her father, still pulling off his helmet. Without thinking, she ran to him next, throwing her arms around him.

"Dad—"

Maverick caught her, hugging her tightly. "I'm here. I'm okay."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with watery eyes. "Dad, thank you. For going after him. For always coming back."

Maverick gave her a small smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I always will. I know how much he means to you. Which is why you have to do right by him."

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "I know, Dad. And I will. I just—I never wanted to hurt him. I never wanted to hurt any of you."

She buried her face against his shoulder, taking a moment to just breathe before she pulled away, wiping at her eyes. Finally, she turned to Hangman, who had been watching silently from a distance.

She walked up to him, her chest still heavy with emotion. "Thank you," she said softly. "For saving them—they're the two most important men in my life."

Hangman studied her for a moment, then let out a breath. "I get it. Rooster's always been there for you, and your dad—he’s your hero. I wasn’t trying to take their place."

She shook her head. "I know that. But because of you, I still have them. And that means I can finally let myself love the third most important man in my life."

His smirk was softer than usual, his green eyes filled with something deeper than confidence. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Before she could answer, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around. A breathless laugh escaped her, but before she could say anything, his lips were on hers. The kiss was deep, consuming, and filled with everything unspoken between them.

[caystar13star]

I really do love the idea of Jake being Ice’s son. They just have that look:

I can’t stop thinking about Jakey, who grew up in the shadow of greatness, with an unreachable standard he put on himself, not dissimilar to Rooster trying to embody Goose.

Tom had no intention of making Jake feel inferior, there was just literally nothing that could stop him from blazing his path to the top of the admiralty. He loved his son, and he did his best to encourage him in everything he did.

He loved that Jake was just as driven, determined to enter the Naval Academy early (though no one would ever do it as early as Tom had). He was an honor student, a great athlete (football and baseball, as he never took to water the way that Ice had).

It was just Jake and Ice when he was growing up. He was a consummate Navy brat, making a name for himself on every base. He did spend his dad’s deployments with his Aunt Sarah and Uncle Slider. They loved their nephew, and they loved sharing stories about Ice with their little Icicle.

They never thought about how much Jake was internalizing these fantastical stories, stories that made Ice seem even larger than life, more untouchable.

Jake heard stories about Mav, too, of course. His dad’s wingman had been in and out of Jake’s life as long as he could remember. He only met Bradley once though, when they were stationed close enough together and Bradley came to spend a few weeks with his Uncle Mav while his mom went to visit her sister (she wasn’t actually visiting, she was starting an aggressive chemo routine)

Jake and Bradley didn’t really click. They were eleven and fourteen, respectively, and had very different interests. Bradley was a little jealous of how Mav and Jake joked around, and Jake was suspicious at how awkward Ice was around Bradley (Tom had a hard time seeing Bradley looking so much like Goose, he never really faced the guilt he had from that cursed hop)

They didn’t see each other again until they met at the Academy. Jake had just turned 17 and Bradley was a bitter, angry 20. Bradley had cut off contact with his godfather, and didn’t particularly relish being in close quarters with Iceman’s only son.

Jake gave back just as good as he got, matching Bradley’s barbed words with vicious cuts of his own. While Ice used his expansive vocabulary and cool tone to arrange the Navy into his own personal chessboard, Jake twirled his sharp tongue like a samurai sword, laying out everyone in his path.

While Jake shamelessly used his personal connections to ingratiate himself to the officers teaching, Bradley acted as if he didn’t even know Captain Wells or Commander Neven. The flyboys who remembered both boys’ fathers at the academy mourned for the lack of affection between the two.

Flight school was a constant source of conflict and competition, and their friends felt pulled in opposite directions, though Javy and Natasha declared themselves neutral as they didn’t want to give up either friend (Nat was the first to suggest that the two needed to fuck out their differences)

Bradley finally found his mark when he bestowed Jake’s callsign. He gleefully pointed out that if Jake kept running off and leaving their squadron hanging, he would never be the leader his father was.

Javy was the one to find Jake crying in the locker room, and he finally got the story out of Jake about how inferior he felt being constantly compared to Iceman. Javy didn’t understand at first, as he had been home with Jake and seen firsthand how proud the (youngest) Rear Admiral Kazansky was of his son.

Bradley was sitting a row behind them in the locker room, listening in shock as he finally found common ground with his nemesis. He understood all too well trying to live up to a Navy legend.

The next few days were peaceful, as Jake (now being called Hangman by everyone) was quiet and withdrawn, and Bradley was thoughtful. It came to a head when Bradley dragged himself to Jake’s quarters, to offer his apology for the callsign situation.

Jake was doing a rather impressive impersonation of Iceman’s patented stare down. Bradley didn’t think he would appreciate the comment though.

Surprised by the apology, and honestly just feeling lonely, Jake invited him in.

Things were good for a while. They had to hide their relationship, with DADT and all, but their closest friends knew and helped cover for them.

Everything fell apart when Mav showed up with Ice to see them get their wings. The way Bradley completely snubbed both (decorated officers) made Jake’s stomach turn. What made things even worse was that his dad introduced Mav to Jake officially. As his partner.

When Bradley chose a post as far away from Jake as he could, Jake accepted that it was the end of their relationship. He would never give up his dad, and the more time he spent with Mav, he knew that he would never give him up either.

Mav kept Jake going through Ice’s cancer treatments, and Jake dutifully woke the older man when his nightmares about the Bradshaw family were too deep to escape. Jake broke his self-imposed radio silence with Rooster only to make sure the man had received the invitation to Mav and Ice’s wedding.

It was only after the Mission, after Bradley and Mav made their peace, after Ice’s second cancer scare was behind them, that Jake and Bradley began to tentatively explore their own relationship.

This was one thing that Jake would accomplish faster than his father.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [31] - Secrets

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Keeping secrets from business partners can lead to issues.

Word Count: 3300

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Well if that didn’t prove your worth as a potential heir, you didn’t know what would.

For a couple of seconds, no one spoke. You could feel Bucky’s quizzical glances on you but you managed not to look at him or your father who was staring at you in shock.

Ian was the first to break the silence.

“Chicago?” he asked and scoffed. “I know you’re new to this whole thing and Bucky doesn’t share everything with you, but Chicago is impossible.”

You let a smirk curl your lips and turned to the rest of the table.

“A deal with Chicago would ensure—”

“We can’t get Chicago,” Ian cut you off and you arched a brow.

“You can’t,” you told him. “I can.”

“How?” Natasha asked and you shrugged your shoulders, leaning back in your chair.

“Rhett is an old friend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the puzzled expression on Bucky’s face and as much as you wanted to explain it to him, you reminded yourself that it could wait. Steve pulled his brows together while Sam looked between you and Bucky, and Tony sat up straighter.

“You’re telling me you know the king of Chicago?”

“No Tony, I’m telling you the king of Chicago trusts me.”

“Why?”

“Because I made sure of that.”

“And you didn’t bother telling us about this?” Clint asked Bucky and that made you finally look at him. Bucky stared at you in silence, a fire burning in his eyes before he clenched his jaw and turned to Clint.

“Matter of trust I guess,” he said curtly, drumming his fingertips on the table and you could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip at the sight of carefully controlled fury on his face, then took a deep breath.

“The underworld in Chicago works a bit differently than here,” you said. “They never had the need to do business with any other cities and no, Rhett wouldn’t do business with any of you. Bucky knowing me or being married to me wouldn’t have changed anything either, Rhett will want to make a deal with someone he actually knows.”

“No,” your father spoke for the first time. “You’re not getting involved in this Y/N.”

“With all due respect father, your heir is obliged to listen to you,” you said and shot him a small smile. “I’m not.”

“But hold on,” Yelena asked. “How do you know him?”

You liked the night life in Chicago almost as much as in New York. While your and Becca’s surnames made sure you could get into any place in New York, it also meant that there was more of a chance of someone in the club letting your father or Becca’s father know you were there. More often than not, you’d run into Steve or Sam or Bucky—

No.

You weren’t going to think about Bucky.

Bucky was a fucking asshole.

“All I’m saying is that you broke up more than a year ago—” Isla shouted over the music as the bartender put your drinks in front of you. “And don’t get me wrong, Ethan is cute and all but he can’t keep giving you puppy dog eyes whenever you’re around.”

“He’s not,” you said, leaning back to the bar as you took a sip of your cocktail, keeping your gaze on your other friends who were still dancing on the dancefloor.

“Yes he is,” Isla said. “Even Bradley is aware of it.”

“Well Bradley was the one who introduced us,” you reminded her with a grin and she rolled her eyes.

“And I apologize for my boyfriend’s lack of foresight,” she said. “No seriously, you need to move on.”

“I did move on!”

“But you still feel guilty.”

“I don’t,” you argued as someone took the spot next to you by the bar and Isla repressed a grin, giving you a look. You turned your glances to the person to see him eyeing you up and down, and he smiled at you as soon as he realized you were looking at him.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Tommy.”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself and he nodded.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I already have a drink,” you stated with a grin, holding up your cocktail glass and he hummed.

“Ah,” he said. “I guess I can wait until you finish that one then?”

“So you’ll just watch me drink?”

“Sounds like a plan—” he started but was cut off when another guy walked through the crowd to nod at you, then mutter something into his ear. Tommy’s eyes widened and he put his beer bottle on the counter.

“Sorry,” he said without so much as a glance at you, then walked away from you.

“The fuck?” Isla muttered while you arched a brow, glaring at the guy.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Kyle. My boss wanted me to tell you that everything you ladies drink tonight is on the house.”

Isla blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“And he asks if you’d like to join him upstairs,” Kyle told you, making your eyes narrow in fury. “Your friends are welcome to join as well, of course.”

Ah.

Well, that explained things.

This whole nonsense of getting someone intimidated with a mere order was way too familiar to you, and you clicked your tongue while Isla shifted her weight.

“Um, Y/N maybe we should go somewhere else…”

“It’s fine,” you assured her. “I got it. Kyle, isn’t it?”

He nodded, stealing a look at the mezzanine where a couple of guys were having a conversation on. You couldn’t exactly make out the faces from the club lights, but if you had to guess, the guy who didn’t look interested in the conversation and was instead leaning on the rails and watching the crowd had to be Kyle’s boss.

“And your boss’s name?”

“Rhett Davis.”

The prince of Chicago.

Lovely.

“Great,” you said. “Well Kyle, why don’t you go and tell your boss that I don’t appreciate him interrupting my conversations and I’m not a fucking dog to go to him when he whistles, hm?”

Kyle gawked at you. “He’s—”

“I know who he is, our fathers are in the same line of business,” you told him, making his eyes widen.

“Y/N?” Isla said and you waved a hand in the air.

“Everything is alright, don’t worry.”

“Whose daughter are you?” Kyle asked and you gave him a smirk.

“I believe you have a message to deliver, Kyle. Run along now.”

Kyle hesitated only for a moment before walking away from you to climb the stairs and you turned to Isla.

“What was that?” she asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Long story,” you said as your friends called out your and Isla’s names, motioning at you to join them on the dancefloor. You let out a laugh, and shook your head.

“I think I’ll finish my drink, but you go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, go,” you said with a smile, pushing her gently and she walked to the dancefloor while you sucked on the straw of your cocktail. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to send a quick text to Becca, letting out a small laugh when you saw her response.

It was only when you lifted your head from your phone that you saw the bartender’s eyes widening before you felt someone step forward to take the spot beside you, making you look over your shoulder before you turned around.

The infamous prince of Chicago was hot, even you had to admit. He had to be only a couple years older than you; his disheveled curly hair giving him an air of nonchalance, and his blue eyes sparkling even under the club lights, reminding you of Bucky’s just a bit. There was a small smirk playing on his lips and when he motioned at the bartender for a drink, you could see the tattoos scattered along his muscular arms before you forced yourself to raise a brow at him, but that just made his smirk bigger.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he said calmly, then offered his hand. “I’m Rhett.”

You tilted your head, then shook his hand before introducing yourself as well and he pulled his brows together.

“The prettiest girl in the club is New York’s underworld princess,” he commented. “Figures.”

“And the cockiest guy in the club is Chicago’s underworld prince,” you said, your voice silky. “Shocker.”

That made him chuckle and he raised his hands, gesturing surrender. “I meant no disrespect.”

“Makes one of us.”

He looked genuinely entertained at your snappy retort as you finished your empty cocktail glass down and he motioned at the bartender for a refill which made him rush to prepare your drink as fast as he could. You raised your brows.

“I can order my own drinks, thank you.”

He hummed.

“Well, I can’t have you return to New York and tell your daddy Chicago was anything but nice to you.”

“And you want to be nice to me?”

“Depends,” he said, his unwavering gaze sending a fire your cheeks. “Do you want me to be nice to you?”

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster but you chastised yourself in your head, then scrunched up your nose.

“I don’t date or sleep with people in the business,” you told him as the bartender put your drink in front of you. “So you can go away now.”

Rhett’s amused smile widened. “Are you ordering me around in my own city, Y/N?”

A smirk curled your lips and you heaved a deep sigh.

“Someone has to,” you said. “Are you telling me you’re not good at following orders, Rhett?”

“I’m good at giving them.”

You pouted your lips, then took a sip of your drink.

“Well,” you said. “Turns out you and I have something in common then.”

“I went to college in Chicago,” you told Yelena. “We kind of ran into each other.”

Your father’s frown deepened. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” you told him. “I met a lot of people in Chicago, Rhett just happens to be the most important one for business, that’s all.”

Bucky nodded to himself slowly, still keeping quiet as he fixed his gaze on the table, but you could see him clenching his jaw.

“And you’re confident that you can convince him to make a deal with New York?” Steve asked and you nodded.

“As long as we have a good offer.”

“I can show you the latest offer we made him,” Clint told you. “You can go over it so that you know what he refused the last time.”

“Yeah, that would be—” you started but was cut off when someone knocked on the door, then stepped inside. The bodyguard approached Natasha to mutter something to her ear, making her grit her teeth, then she pushed her chair back, Yelena jumping on her feet.

“Nat?” Steve asked and she took a deep breath.

“There’s been an attack on my territory,” she said curtly. “I must cut this short.”

“Of course,” your father said as everyone stood up as well, Clint already walking outside with Natasha and Steve and Sam going after them. Tony nodded at you before he walked away as well and you stole a look at Bucky who was walking to the door without so much as sparing you a glance but before you could say anything, you heard your father’s voice.

“Y/N, a word?”

“Um,” you blinked a couple of times. “Bucky—”

“See you at home,” he said, still not looking at you and he walked out of the room, making your stomach do an unpleasant flip.

“Leave us,” your father told Ian and even though he looked like he wanted to protest, he heaved a sigh and left the room as well. You sat back on your seat, drumming your fingertips on the table.

“Yes?”

“Was it you?”

You tilted your head. “Hm?”

“The first attack on the shipment,” he said, making your stomach drop. “Before the raid. Was it you?”

Fear surrounded you so fast that for a couple of seconds, you couldn’t hear anything because of the blood rushing in your ears, making your hearing muffled. The invisible fist around your throat was getting tighter and tighter but you forced yourself to keep your expression as calm as possible.

“Is that what we’re doing now?” you asked. “Blaming each other?”

“Was it you?”

“No!” you exclaimed, a hysterical laugh escaping from your lips. “Is that what Ian told you? What, he wants to kill me now, is that it?”

“No one is going to touch a hair on your head, I just want to know—”

“I would be killed if anyone suspected I broke the truce!”

“I will cover it if you did break the truce,” your father told you, making you pull back slightly.

“…What?”

“Do you seriously think I’d let anyone harm you?” he asked. “Are you that blind? You’re my daughter, I would start a war against all these families if they tried to do anything to you.”

“Truce is important—”

“Anyone who tries to harm you will meet their death,” he told you, looking you in the eye. “No exceptions.”

You swallowed thickly. “Even Ian?”

“Even Ian,” he said without hesitation, making you gawk at him. “Tell me the truth. Was it you?”

 You dug your fingernails into your palms and took a deep breath, then shook your head.

“No,” you rasped out. “But I’m not going to pretend I’m not happy that it happened.”

He held your gaze in his as if trying to see whether you were lying or not, then leaned back on his seat as well.

“And this Rhett deal?”

“We used to hang out when I was in Chicago,” you said. “Simple as that. I know how he operates, me knowing him wouldn’t have worked if you or Bucky or anyone else tried to make a deal with him. He will want someone in the business.”

“And you are in the business now?” he asked you and you clicked your tongue.

“I am.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I don’t like most of the decisions you make when it comes to business,” you retorted. “Especially recent ones, but here we are.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before a rare smile curled his lips and he let out a loud laugh.

“Never the one to shy away from honesty, are you?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Learned from the best.”

He reached out to squeeze your hand, making you smile as well.

“Wine?” he asked and you turned your glances to the door, biting inside your cheek before turning to him again.

“Bucky will be busy I guess,” you said. “Sure, wine works.”

                                        *

As you expected, when you returned home Bucky wasn’t there. In fact, he didn’t return home until early in the morning, and by that time guilt was already churning your insides. If it were him who pulled what you had in the meeting, convincing you to make him a part of the meeting only to reveal he had a different plan in mind, you would be furious as well so you understood why he hadn’t bothered coming home last night.

Didn’t mean you liked it though.

You tried not to get discouraged when he ignored your “good morning” and went straight upstairs to take a shower while you sat by the kitchen island, pushing your breakfast around, petting Alpine with your other hand. Being nervous wasn’t new to you but this was the first time you were sure that Bucky was actually pissed, and you didn’t know why it bothered you so much, but it did.

So when you heard him walking downstairs, you sat up straighter, doing your best to ignore the tension in the pit of your stomach.

“Buck?”

He only hummed, putting his cufflinks on and you licked your lips as Alpine jumped from the counter.

“Can we talk?”

“Now you want to talk?” he asked, still not looking at you and you bit at your fingernail.

“Yeah,” you said. “Listen, I know it looks like I went behind your back.”

“You did go behind my back,” he corrected you and you pushed yourself off the stool, clenching and unclenching your fists.

“I get that you’re upset,” you stated and he scoffed.

“No shit I’m upset,” he said. “All this time I thought we had a deal, that we were in this together but you…what, you just decided to keep me out?”

“What does it matter?” your voice was way too defensive and he stared at you.

“You can’t be that self-centered,” he said. “Right? No one can be that self-centered.”

“Bucky—”

“Newsflash Y/N, I’m supposed to be informed about your fucking strategy if I am a part of it!”

“You were informed about the strategy you were a part of,” you defended yourself and he gritted his teeth.

“And the rest?”

“I—you—” you stammered. “I have been planning this for a long time Bucky, I’m not going to just…”

“You’re not going to just trust me?”

You rubbed at your eyes, then took a deep breath.

“I need to prove myself to others,” you said, trying to keep your voice stable. “I need to make sure that everyone around that table prefers me to Ian—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Me having a direct connection to Rhett will ensure that,” you continued as if he didn’t cut you off. “And it will be good for business—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It will give a message—”

“Tell me why you didn’t!”

“Because you could take it from me!” you snapped back before you had the chance to stop yourself. “And it was my move, it was my strategy, it was my plan, okay? No one else’s!”

Pain flashed over his handsome features and he stared at you as silence fell upon the room. You closed your eyes for a moment, reminding yourself to be calm despite the tension clenching your muscles together and opened them again, clenching and unclenching your fists to focus.

“I didn’t—” you stammered. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He was quiet for a couple of seconds before he took a deep breath.

“Nothing I do makes a difference to you, does it?” he asked, his voice low. “No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to prove to you that I…”

You tried to fix your breathing. “You what?”

A dry laugh climbed up his throat and he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You could feel your eyes burning but you tried to focus as he ran a hand through his hair, then clenched his jaw as if trying to pull himself together.

“You’ll make a great boss,” he rasped out and your head shot up, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards.

“…Thank you.”

A painful smile pulled at his lips. “It wasn’t a compliment.”

Your brows pinched together in confusion and he shook his head slightly, grabbing his jacket off the hanger.

“You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met in my entire life,” he told you. “And there’s no one you wouldn’t waste just to get what you want. You’ll be the best among us, I’d say.”

An ache appeared in your chest. “Bucky, can we please—”

“You wanted to be business partners?” he asked as he put his jacket on, his piercing gaze pining you to your spot. “Fine. But don’t fucking come crying to me when I treat you like one.”

With that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving you there frozen.

Chapter 32

[ailoda]

updated: 01.02.25

ᯓ ✈︎ series

D-Day (❤❅✘): after finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child. (@trickphotography2)

Line of Sight (❤❅): you may just have to address your assumption that Jake Seresin doesn’t care for you at all, because surely a man who disliked you wouldn’t go out of his way to have your back when you need him the most? (@honkytonk-hangman)

Fuck: The Universe (❤❅✘): you're a Kazinsky -- Tom "Iceman" Kazinsky's youngest daughter -- and you've taken after your father to become a Naval aviator. You finished at the top of your class at Top Gun and have worked diligently and fruitlessly to get where you are now: North Island. You don the call-sign Wisteria not only because the beauty of the flower but because of its lethal qualities. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is the bane of your existence and he returns those feelings towards you tenfold. Jake thinks that you've gotten everything handed to you and has no trouble telling everyone that. When things finally boil over one day (in a shower cubicle on base of all places), you find unlikely companionship in Jake. Who knew lemon-lime Gatorade and Plan B would be the start to your love story. Or enemies to fuck buddies to friends to lovers. Whichever you prefer! (@roosterbruiser)

Left At The Altar (❤❅✘): when you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day. (@tip-top-cloud-surfer)

What is L-O-V-E? (❤❅✘): Lena Bradshaw (formerly Seresin) struggles once again to keep the peace between her ex-husband Jake and her older brother Bradley for her son's sake. And the uranium facility mission only seems to heighten the stakes of it all. (@tip-top-cloud-surfer)

Spring Fling (❤✘): you should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck. (@ddejavvu)

Oh, Baby (❤❅✘): you might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake’s heart. Now, a year later, you’ve returned and you’re not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake. (@seresinhangmanjake)

Bad Habit (❤❅✘): the moment you meet hangman, you know you hate him. and then suddenly, you’re not so sure anymore. (@seasonsbloom)

new! Sign of the Times (❤❅✘): you're destined to die in Jake Seresin's arms. In every life, in every iteration, it's inescapable. Whether you loathe, or love each other, each ending stays the same. But what if it doesn't have to? (@se7entyrell)

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Handle With Care - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Reader and Aaron meet for the first time before she starts as a full-time nanny for Jack.

Notes: Hopefully will be at least 5 parts! I'm excited to be writing again :)

Word Count: 4.6K

I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the private chef

Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport. 

Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch. 

I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter. 

One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin. 

Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia. 

The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer. 

He had a foyer.

And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk. 

“Y/N,” Aaron said, nodding to me with a smile, “Please give me your bags. And we’ll go sit and chat before Jack comes. His grandma is still in town and brought him to the zoo.” 

I complied. There wasn’t a need for me to protest. And clearly, by the looks of those forearms, he would have no problem handling my bags. I only brought a single suitcase, a duffel, and five boxes of books. Aaron’s mother-in-law, Lorriane, had been staying with them since Haley died a year and a half ago. But her husband broke his hip. Apparently, Aaron had added a mother-in-law suite for Lorriane and judging by the looks of his home, the suite I’d be living in for the foreseeable future was twice the size of my studio in LA. 

“Thanks.” I said, grabbing a seat on the brown fabric sofa, “My dad said I had to say hello to you for him. He still raves about you. Like all the time.” I chuckle, watching as Aaron hands me a glass of iced tea. 

“Marty’s a good man. He and Gideon built the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our team is in constant debt to him.” Aaron spoke so formally, gesturing for enthusiasm with his hands. 

“Yeah, well. He’s always just been dad to me.” I smiled, the man I knew showed up to my field hockey games even if it meant holding office hours there. He was the most there dad I could ask for– maybe it was neck in neck for the both of them. 

“So Jack?” I said, breaking the silence. “How–how’s he been?” I couldn’t help but wonder. My dads had a close friend who helped them with their surrogacy journey, so while I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense, the woman who I’ m half of  was still alive and in my life. Debra was more like an aunt to me, fun and spirited and eternally youthful. But I still had her. 

Unlike Jack, who’s Earthly ties to his mother were shredded in an horribly violent way. 

My dad hardly ever cried, but when he called and told me that Aaron’s wife died I could hear it in his raw voice. Aaron’s a man cut from the same cloth a Dad; stoic and responsible. He was a wall of somber trepidation, but somewhere deep inside I could make out the man that wasn’t cataclysmically destroyed. 

“Jack is…he’s a strong kid. I put him in therapy after it happened. He still goes once a week. Laura, she’s his therapist. She’s wonderful. Truly has helped Jack work through all this.”

“That’s good. That’s really good, Mr. Hotchner. It seems as though Jack has a solid foundation here.” I say, unsure what to say exactly. I can make an omelet six different ways, yet it’s lost on me to know what to say to a widower with a little boy. If I had to bear even a fraction of their grief, I’m sure it would break me. I would crumble. But these two boys? They’re a good man in the storm. And I know in my bones, it’s entirely Aaron’s doing. If that man is anything, he’s steady. 

“It’s Aaron. Please, Mr. Hotchner reminds me of my father.” He cringes, the lines on his eyes creasing, “Your dad said you’re a professionally trained chef? Unfortunately, Jack’s still squarely in the dinosaur shaped chicken nugget and baked tater tots phase. It’s been a struggle to get him to try anything new…for…for awhile now, if I’m being honest.” 

I nod, thinking that Jack’s food discouragement might stem from losing his mom. “Well, the way I see it, Jack lost his mom at how old? Four and half? That’s when we’re starting to really know what we like and don’t like to eat. His life was turned upside down and shaken all around when you lost her. So maybe he needed some consistency in a world of chaos. Not that your home is chaotic, it’s lovely and clean and happy. It’s just…loss…”

“Losing your mother as a toddler really fucks up your life.” Aaron says. He speaks so definitely, as if he means everything so ardently you could cast it into stone. 

“Yeah.” I add, somberly. “But I think we can get him to branch out. Make it a game. I’d love to cook with him. I can get him kid-safe tools so he can be involved in food preparation and cooking. Oh! Maybe Jack and I can have a garden. I’m sure that will get him eating vegetables and fruits.” 

Aaron’s neutral expression slowly transitions to a soft smile. He thumps his fingers on the wooden table, as he looks out through the deck. I could feel him glance back at me and then to the yard again. 

“I think that a garden would be lovely over on the side. It’s far enough away from the pool and patio.” Aaron offers, sipping his tea. It’s sweet tea, too sweet for me. Working in kitchens throughout my program has trained me to not only tolerate black coffee, but to actively seek it out. He smiles, his grin defining his face. “Good idea.” 

I feel heat at his praise. I like doing well, who doesn't? But after a series of mishaps and bad luck, an 'atta' girl is my Hail Mary of the month. I simply nod. “Simple things to start so he can see some quick results. I’ll get him super involved in it. Make him feel like he’s a part of a team.” 

“I work a lot. My team flies across the nation, as you know. It takes me away from here for days on end. It was getting too much for Lorriane. And how her husband broke his hip.” Aaron shakes his head, “Honestly, you couldn’t have shown up here at a better time.” 

He runs his pointer finger over the water rung pooled on the coasters. “Jack’s a very easy kid. Reasonable. But shy. He was shy even before Haley…even before last year. I’ve brought him to the pediatrician because he stopped talking for a while, but she said that we’ve all survived an immense trauma and our brains simply process and live through that trauma differently.”

Sitting there, I couldn’t help but think how lucky this little boy is. His dad was running up the hill; pushing that boulder up and up and up for an eternity. It must be an awfully lot to carry, without anyone to share the load. 

“Yeah. I’m sure it is? Is he going into Kindergarten after the summer?” I ask, wondering if Jack went to Kindergarten on time or if Aaron and his grandma kept him home when they lost Haley. 

“Lori, Haley’s mother, taught preschool for thirty-five years. She told me to keep him home for a year, let him be a little bit older and get the help he needs to heal and then send him. So I listened. I think that was one of the only decisions I made as a team this year.” 

Sympathy must have colored my face because Aaron’s demeanor shifted quickly. He sat up, sipping his iced tea and wiping his hands on his jeans. “So basically your weekdays are around 8am-7:30pm. And occasionally on the weekends when the team does have to be on location But recently, I’ve been trying to transition to a more leadership position at headquarters. Hopefully, that’ll mean less traveling.” 

I quickly journaled the hours down in my notebook. Live-in nannying hours are not for those looking for a job to allow them the life of leisure. Naturally that couldn’t possibly be true for a position whose main coworker is a five and a half year old boy. 

“Alright. So that’s summer hours. We’ll need to brainstorm lots of stuff to do all day. Maybe the library?” I write a small note to get ideas and have them approved by Aaron.

He nodded, “Yes, summer hours are a lot, but Jack will be going to a couple camps that his therapist recommended. So you can get a couple hours each day to yourself. I am ready to compensate accordingly. Between my new role at the BAU and other personal investments, we live comfortably. How’s $2,500 to start and then we’ll discuss a raise in the future. And naturally your room and anything you may want to eat or have will be covered by me.” Aaron says it again in a way that leaves no room for argument. He must’ve been a great lawyer; no wonder dad adores him. 

“That’s quite a lot of money.” I’m shocked and my face does a horrible job of hiding it. “I’m not a professional nanny. I’m good with kids. Really good. But I don’t do this for a living. This is you doing me a favor because if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a waitress at my dads’ country clubs” I cringed, my mind instantly filtering in an image of me serving one-time sorority sisters bottomless mimosas for an Easter Brunch. 

“I apologize if you though that it was up for discussion, Y/N. Your first month’s pay will be $2,500 each week. And then it will increase to $3,250 each week. If I’m asking you to work 13 hour days plus one weekend a month? I better be paying you that much. And you’re still on Marty’s health insurance?” 

I rolled my eyes, of course dad mentioned that to Aaron and of course Aaron double checked. Aaron just might have Marty, JD beat when it comes to thoroughness. “Yeah, till I’m 26. And that’s like…a year and change away.” I say, implying that it’s not up to me, or Aaron even, to know how long I’ll be with him. I wasn’t sure if I would ever venture out to LA again; not after what happened that sent me back here for good.

But the thing about food is that everyone wants good food, no matter where they live. And right now, the ones that wanted something good in their lives, lived in a lovely Colonial home on Moss Avenue. 

“I guess there’s no arguing with you, prosecutor.” I say, my voice increasing just so that it balances the line between teasing and something else…something else I should be too ashamed to admit. 

It elicited a smile from him and all of the sudden it was completely worth it. Aaron finishes his tea, and places it into the sink after dumping the remaining ice chips down the drain. 

“Non-negotiable. It’s in your contract. Along with a health insurance package should you need to go off Marty’s name. Plus all that tax information that I’ll get you someone to walk you through it.” Aaron explained. 

“Thank you.” I replied, grateful that it was both all above the table and that I would be given the resources to help me figure it out. Looking at the pile of paperwork in my lap, I was sure that if Aaron didn’t offer legal literacy assistance I would be way in over my head. “That’s wonderful. Really.” 

“I just…I just want my son to be a good kid with a good childhood. That’s all. I want to be there for him and if I’m not there, I want the next best thing there. You know?” Aaron said and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or statement. Or if it was stuck somewhere in the middle; lost at sea like Aaron was himself. An island unto himself, drifting as the tide rolled in. 

I break the silence. “What was Haley’s favorite meal?” 

Aaron smiled. His eyes, crinkling again. “She had chicken piccata on our first date. And we ate it at our wedding. And when she found out she was pregnant with Jack she made it for me.” I nodded, understanding the important link between food and memories. 

“Let’s make it. For Jack and you and Lorianne to share tonight before she leaves. It’s going to be a big transition for him to go from having grandma all the time to me, someone very new.” I expressed, hoping that I didn’t sound bossy or as if I wanted to parent Jack myself. 

“That’s a lovely idea, Y/N.” Aaron sighed. “But I never was much of a chef. I wouldn’t know the first place to start.” 

He leaned his hands against the table, a slight smile breaking the formidable since that had fallen between us in the moments before. I smiled back, standing from the table to reach my tote bag. 

I pulled out an apron, the kind that criss crossed over my back. It was denim blue with a canvas front and large pockets. 

“Move over,” I said, tying my apron, “It might be your kitchen, Aaron, but for tonight you’re kicked out” 

The chicken ended up being more chicken piccata adjacent than a true representation of the dish. I mixed a seasoned blend of flour and spices for the dredging. Then, butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts into thin pieces. 

Aaron’s kitchen was spacious and airy. There was a large island with barstools on one side and lots of pantry and cupboard space on the other. I stood at the island, dredging the chicken in seasoned flour before placing it nearly on paper towel lined trays. The chicken, thinned and butterflied, didn’t take long to cook in the oil and butter. 

I let the skillet heat up till the oil, butter, garlic, and capers produced a mouthwatering aroma. Aaron gave me a bottle of white wine, imperative to make the sauce taste even better. I added freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon slices to the pan sauce, letting the brown bits cook a little bit more. I scraped the edges of the skillet, incorporating the sauce even more. 

I placed the chicken back into the pan, letting it absorb the lemony, garlicky flavor of the sauce. The sauce thickened, forming something that was similar enough to chicken piccata. I added a bit more butter to the pan, along with some lemon. I figured that it would stretch a little bit more for some sauce for the pasta on the side. 

The chicken was simmering in the pan and the pasta water nearly boiling, when Jack came home. He looked like his father, but must have gotten his lighter colored hair and eyes from his mother. 

Aaron walked into the kitchen with Jack, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders protectively. Jack’s shy demeanor was evident as he peered over at me. I smiled and waved as I finished the pasta. 

“Jackie, this is Ms. Y/N.” Aaron introduced me to the young boy, who stood shyly by his father. “We talked about how Grandma Lorraine needs to go back home. And we’re gonna have a friend come and live here.” 

Jack nodded, his little mind clearly spinning and spinning to make sense of all this. He was clearly well adjusted, even for losing his mother at such a young age. 

“Hey, there Jack!” I smiled. “I made a good dinner for you and your dad. I heard you went to the zoo with Grandma. I love the zoo. Especially the tigers.” 

Jack nodded, eagerly walking around the kitchen island to talk about the zoo. “Yeah,” he said, “I liked the monkeys. They were funny. The babies were learning to climb and jump.” 

I nodded, plating up some food for Jack. “Super cool. They’re kinda like little people. The way they act and play.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I used the Cars plate. It was way too cool not to.” I crouched down and whispered to Jack, “Just make sure your dad doesn’t swipe it. Between you and me I can see him eying it from here.” 

Aaron chuckled, reaching high to grab not one, but two plates. He handed one to me before telling Jack to go sit for dinner. “You’re joining us. It’ll be good for us to get to know one another.” 

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nothing you do would be an intrusion. And it’s good for Jack to see that we’re friends. He’ll be more trusting of you.” 

I nodded, understanding that it was very important for Jack to become used to me. Especially considering Aaron’s job could take him away for days at a time. 

“Alright.” 

Aaron nodded. “Sit. I’ll get your plate.” 

There was an understanding that washed over me. An understanding that Aaron was the kind of man that didn’t ask for things. He was simply used to things he wanted being carried out. I envied that security. Maybe if I had even an ounce of it I would still be hacking it out in LA. Or maybe I wouldn’t have needed to figure it out because I would’ve figured it out already. 

Jack and Aaron went back and forth, swapping facts about dinosaurs. Jack was squarely in the dinosaur phase. Five minutes in, and I already had promised to help him find a dinosaur coloring book, with dinosaurs besides just the “cool ones”. 

“Uncle Spencer says that some dinosaurs had heads as big as a car!” Jack said, practically shrieking with excitement as he recounted all the facts a certain Uncle Spencer had told him. 

“Uncle Spencer’s so smart. And he’s a kid!” Several of Jack’s stories started with the aforementioned Uncle Spencer and I couldn’t help but wonder where the connection lay. Especially if, like Jack claimed, Spencer was a child. Sometimes some cousins are so far apart in age they’re more like an aunt or an uncle. Perhaps this was the case.

“Spencer is on my team.” My face must have shown my confusion. I always wore my emotions and thoughts on my sleeves, something that failed me several times over. Most notably when my friends in LA would get hit on by men at bars in the most vile of ways. One of the blessings of being deemed unapproachable by men was being left alone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t burdened by their lack of tact in seducing women. “And he’s 28…yes about 28 now, and has been on the team since he was 23. He’s brilliant. Jason Gideon, who worked with Martin, scouted him when he was hardly 21. His mind works in ways that are simply unexplainable.” 

“Which means he must have some pretty sick dino facts?” I ask, my question causing a prickly smile to appear on Aaron’s face. Jack giggles, he must enjoy seeing his father smile. It seems that even though the boys find themselves moving alone, smiles are few and far between. Especially from the elder Hotchner. 

“And three phDs.” Aaron cut the rest of Jack’s chicken, sliding his plate over and reminding him to at least try the vegetables. “It’s like these kids are getting younger as fast as they are getting smarter. Sometimes I just look at Spencer and my knees hurt. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would beat him in anything athletic. Even though he’s much younger.” 

I raised my brow instinctively, smiling. “Was that a joke?” I deadpanned. “My dad said you made two jokes the entire time he knew you. And the first was…”

I stopped myself short. But it was far too late. Aaron, like myself and my father, knew when the first joke he made to my father was. His wedding day. My father had long retired, and moved his mind and soul far, far away from the BAU. He trusted Aaron and Gideon to handle it. Instead he decided to live as himself, freely with his husband and their daughter in the suburbs.

If there was one thing that I shouldn’t have done the first night working with a nanny family consisting of a widower and his son, it was to bring up the marriage of the widower. 

When Aaron married his late wife, Haley. My fathers attended, but I didn’t even remember. It must’ve been one of those times that Nana would sleepover. I remembered it was painting nails, ordering Chinese, and watching Walker, Texas Ranger and Family Feud. I remembered it as falling asleep to my Nana’s snoring as Home Shopping Club glowed on her ancient TV set and waking up to her chocolate chip pancakes. My father remembers it was the first time his young protege made a joke. And Aaron remembers it was the day he married the love of his life. 

“Daddy?” Jack said, cutting through the silence, “I don’t like veggies. They’re too mushy.” 

“Don’t eat them, bud.” Aaron, murmured, his voice laced with a guard that I hadn’t noticed till now. It was careful, like he crafted each tone and cadence before he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Jack. Come on, let’s show Ms. Y/N her room. Where she’ll be staying.” 

Each sentence is clipped and calculated. I nod, smiling as Jack stands next to his father. 

“I’ll clean up.” 

Aaron nodded, thanking me as he took Jack up to get ready for bed. Minutes later, the kitchen was back to normal and a couple extra meals were packed away for leftovers. I left a note on the counter for Aaron in the morning. 

Lunch is in the fridge.

I always like to make extras! 

Have a nice day

Y/N

Aaron returned, without Jack. “You didn’t have to do the whole kitchen. I don’t expect that. This isn’t a housekeeping job, it’s taking care of Jack.” 

“I don’t mind. Being a chef…or I was a chef, as much as a pain in the ass cleaning and dishes can be sometimes it’s a good way to finish it all. I don’t know…I don’t make sense.” I chuckled, trailing off in a rambly way that fully gave away my nerves. My previous blunder had shaken me, especially since Aaron seemed completely unnerved, even though I knew it stung.

“I suppose, sometimes I used to stay late to do all the paperwork, even though the interns usually will do it for us.” Aaron wipped his hands on his pants.“Anyway, let me show you to the room. I had it cleaned over the weekend and put Lorianne up at a hotel for a couple nights so there wouldn’t be any issues or crossover.”

Aaron led me through the rest of the house. It was neat and tidy and I didn’t expect anything else from someone like Aaron, even though he does have a young, energetic son. There was just something meticulous about him. Something so put together and careful. And then there was me. Messy and complicated and unsure and terrified. Anyone would be that after having the carpet pulled out from under them. And I couldn’t name a bigger carpet than having to bury your life. 

There was a locked door that led to what Aaron explained as my private area. “Jack and I won’t come over here. From the time that I get home in the evenings, or frankly, some days, till I leave in the mornings is your own. This is your spot in the house, but my housekeepers that come twice a month will clean in here, if you’d like.” 

I nodded, grateful for that added bonus. The small attachment was the size of a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette with a nook tucked into the corner with the windows. The furniture matched the rest of the house, clearly Aaron had spared no expense to add this attachment. The queen sized bed was pushed up against the wall and nestled into the corner. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp. And, as I turned the corner, was the crowning jewel. 

“Are those built–ins?” I asked, staring in disbelief. “Those are so gorgeous. I have like, easy, a ton, of books. God! Can I use them?” I turned, practically jumping from joy as Aaron chuckled reluctantly. 

“Of course. This room’s yours.” Aaron must’ve carried my bags into the bedroom while I was cooking because all of my belongings sat on the floor near the set of love seats and armchair. “I’ll leave you to get settled. 8:30 okay for tomorrow?” 

I nodded, stunned beyond belief as I opened my boxes of books. Aaron handed me a set of keys, one to the house, the shed, and the other to my area of the house. 

“You’re the only one that has a copy. If you want others made, I’ll cover the expense.” Aaron explained. “Have a good night, Y/N.” 

“Good night,” I replied, hooking the keys onto my set. “And thank you for this room. It’s nicer than my apartment in LA.” 

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, “Of course, I think Jack'll be very happy. It’s been hard to trust others. With him, honestly…Jack’s all I got left.” I had known Aaron for about three hours, heard stories of his skill and professionalism and talent for years, but he wasn’t someone that I had known, let alone even met. But in those three hours, I could count several times where I saw a sliver of emotions.

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Night.” 

“And Y/N?” Aaron said, stopping me as I reach down to start shelving books, “Food does hold memories. You’re right. I needed it. We did. Jack and I. He needs to remember her.” 

“Food has memories.” I said, shrugging, “You’re gonna have to learn I know more than you think I do.”

Taglist

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @pear-1206 @this-is-calm-and-its-anne @little-jana @pastelpinkflowerlife @sarcasm-and-stiles @ilovefictionalmennn

[pollyna]

I thought we hit rock bottom

And then the floor gave out

The day Bradley storms out, screaming horrible and petty things, telling them they should be the one dead instead of this real father, Ice wants to say that it's not going to be only wishful thinking for long. But he doesn't because Mav doesn't know yet, and he, they, just lost their kid. So he leaves the letter in his desk where is it, just for a little longer, just to give them to heal a little and, the next day, the calls to fix the first appointment with the oncologist. They have the time, and he will talk to Mav soon.

[notroosterbradshaw]

dying to know how reader reacted to finding out she was pregnant in the boyfriend experience uni 😫 likeeee ik she wasn’t ready for kids in uncle brooster but bradley was so were there mixed feelings abt it? especially since there was no telling when he’d be deployed again

Hi nonny, I don’t know where you are in the cosmos. But this is for you x

A/N I forgot I had this. I don't have the time this close to Xmas/at all to proof/improve so for those of you still in the TGM, I hope you enjoy and merry merry, happy happy xx

“Roll the dice,” you reiterate to Bradley. “If we get pregnant, great. If we don’t…”

“It’s you and me and we are great with that,” Bradley answered, the faintest glint of hope in his shining honey eyes.

You knew he was on Team Baby. He wasn't pressing it; he couldn’t. That wasn’t fair to you… to him or anyone else. You’d said your piece well before you got engaged, and well before today.

The day you married him.

But in the back of the afterglow of lovemaking as husband and wife, you’d told him you’d go off birth control after your honeymoon if he still wanted to try for a baby. You didn’t want it to be immediate, you wanted to enjoy being married and the fun that came with it. And Bradley agreed. You didn’t want to be thinking about periods and not drinking and having the time of your lives. Bradley was busier with work now than ever before, and with the work extensions complete, new staffing, and more small business to take care of, even though you were together every night? You were still doing your own things, barely getting into bed at the same time.

Thing was, you were only hoping to be a newlywed once - marriage wasn't as big a thing for you as it was for Bradley. And even babies. You loved your niece and nephew and Uncle Brooster was fantastic with them - it always left a pang in your heart that he would be such a good father. But even he admitted he wouldn't have the first idea of how to do it since his dad wasn't around when he was growing up and Maverick wasn't exactly an example of patriarchal learning.

You didn’t want to add the stress of calculating ovulation even if an app would do it for you, the disappointment of periods coming… you just wanted to have fun fucking, and pleasing each other as you moved into the next phase of your lives. The stress Annie went through and the lengths she was going to with IVF therapies - overwhelming hormones, nausea, mood swings, sore boobs, abdominal discomfort. God, when you had a difficult period, you could assume similarly but as Annie went through her treatments, at a fairly young age, it was eye-opening at best.

You remembered one sentence so vividly that it scared you to your bones, “When your biological clock starts… it’s all that your brain hears. You can’t undo it and it messes with your head.”

See? Terrifying. Fair for all involved.

But when your period was late after about two periods since going off birth control, you kind of hoped it was the drama of irregular periods and what it brought. It was why you went on the pill in the first place in your teens.

But there was something different as you channel surfed and Bradley cooked in the (motherfucking, finally renovated) kitchen. A strange cramping in your tummy. Not unbearable, but noticeable as you pressed against the pulsating pressure and made a face. Sighing, you unfolded yourself from the couch and moved to your handsome husband. You tenderly kissed between his shoulder blades and he gave an over the top shudder, as you giggled into his skin. He put his utensil down and turned to you, holding your chin in his calloused bug hand and giving you a quick peck before you quietly excused yourself, but not yet willing to admit to him it was to do a pregnancy test. And you weren’t entirely surprised when it revealed you were 1-2 weeks pregnant. And you weren’t entirely surprised when you showed him the positive pregnancy test after dinner that still certainly said PREGNANT in fat, bold letters.

“It tells you how many weeks?” Bradley was astonished, his eyes glued to the digital reading before him.

“Clever, huh?” you said quietly. Bradley’s honey eyes flicked to regard you. Unreadable at best, erring on the side of too quiet. Reserved, but not disappointed, he had trouble reading you sometimes, and this was one he'd need you to talk through. He needed to know exactly what was going on through your head.

“You good?” he asked softly, grasping the test in his strong palm. It was so small but it held his world in his grip. He put the test down to caress your jaw, forcing your gaze to him. “Love…” his fingers light as they sunk into the hair at the nape of your neck. “My sweet girl,” he called to you.

“I think I am. It’s just… quick," you surrender, falling into his sound touch.

“It is quick,” Bradley agreed, kissing your hair. “Is it too quick?”

“Maybe…” you admitted as he pressed a kiss into your temple and wrapped his strong arms around you. He felt too warm and he protected you without question, you really couldn’t imagine life without him right there.

“If it’s too soon, that’s okay," he said softly.

“I saw how hard it was for Annie and just expected we’d be on our own a bit longer. Genetics and shit."

He bit back his smile and your inadvertent joke, or necessary sarcasm. Bradley hummed. “I think your genetics are pretty fine, if you ask me.”

Eyes rolling in corny, you muttered his name as a warning that jokes were unnecessary at this time.

“Okay, okay,” he answered, palms up, teasing off. He knew you were withholding and he knew he was holding everything back in his body not to go over the top with the excitement bubbling in his entire being. “Love, is this what you want? If you're not ready - if you have changed your mind - ”

I just need some time,” you admitted, cutting him off. “Just to get used to…” your voice trailed.

Bradley nodded. He in no way felt like it was his place to speak and as the facial one between the pair of you? Well. So he just continued to hold you and whisper that whatever you decided was okay, and he would support you with anything you decided, a lot or not he wasn’t sure. He thought you were on the same page. He thought you both wanted this -

Like you, his insides were much and could feel himself lightheaded. He grounded himself and carefully reminded himself this wasn’t about him for now. It was getting your beautifully convoluted brain and heart to the same place his was:

Ready.

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - “ you shut your mouth and the guilt of situation started to overwhelm you. Bradley only hummed, still choosing to remain mute. “Would you hate me?”

He remained reflective a moment, choosing his words carefully his best option.

“No, love. But I would never live with myself if I forced you to do something you weren’t ready for. Come,” he took your hands and led you to the bedroom. He helped you take off your clothes, his large palm resting gently over your abdomen for just a second longer than he should have and it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

His baby in your protective, strong body.

He pulled back the duvet and patted your pillow as you snuck under the cold sheets, thinking maybe you could sleep a year. He climbed in after you, the warm skin of his chest against your back under the slowly spinning ceiling fan. His fingertips traced your hip, slowly drawing his name on your skin. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay.”

There was your voice of reason.

“But it's still something you'll need to consider pretty quick..."

Always offering you both sides.

It was silent a while and while Bradley’s excitement was guarded carefully, even he knew this conversation was not the light and excited one he thought you’d share instead.

"I want this," you were able to say, but it was easier with him not boring his eyes into yours. He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled the nape of your neck.

"I love you," he said so softly you almost didn't hear him. "I won't let you do this alone."

The fateful night you told your family and the Dagger Squad was when it really started to feel real. Your pregnancy to that point has been pretty good. You only turned green as food cooked around you so it was easy to excuse yourself and the extreme exhaustion that overwhelmed you the first trimester slinked away entering the second. You weren’t horribly unwell but things were definitely changing within you.

Boobs sore and off limits to Bradley even though he’d playfully volunteered his palms but your personal support system. It went about as well as expected.

“Just ginger ale tonight?” Bob smiled a while later. You’d been chatting quietly together while Bradley’s squad played pool and generally one-upped each other around you.

“What do you mean?” God, you hated lying to such a delight as Bob. He was so sweet, and although Bradley had alluded to his well-guarded playboy-like ways, he was always darling to you.

“I have four sisters,” he sipped his water. “She pretended she was drinking bourbon and ginger ale to throw everyone off the scent she was…” he chuckled quietly and you’d be damned if you’d figured him out. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I understand if you’re just not drinking tonight.”

And while your family was aware of your news, Bradley had sworn not to tell his friends just yet. You weren’t ready to be looked in on 24/7 by overzealous Navy pilots.

“Nearly four months,” you said quietly.

“Phoenix guessed a little less,” he winked. “I won’t tell, but I’m very happy for you both. This baby will be so loved. Or smothered,” he shrugged playfully. “One of the two.”

“Bob?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He responded as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“This is how you do it, isn’t it?”

“Do what?” He played dumb.

“Find women. Because you watch and listen.” And suddenly it all made such sense as he blushed, toying with his glass.

“I can’t reveal all my trade secrets, but showing a little interest helps,” he admitted.

“I wanna know all your tricks. You’re absolutely fascinating to me.”

And for the first time, you heard Bob Floyd cackle as he nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s never gonna happen.”

"You're getting deployed?" you look at Bradley, eyes wild, six months of baby belly between you. His head fell back.

"I know."

"You know?" you screeched, spoiled for months of your husband home and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter."

"I know..." he said a little meeker. He was sick about this conversation. Sick.

"Did you not put in the leave paperwork?"

"Of course I did. Baby, this classification is my first real role as team leader. As command.”

"Who's going with you?"

"Payback, Fanboy," he confirmed softly.

“Will you be home for Christmas?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he stepped towards you, his large palms sinking into the round belly under his grasp, tickling the stretching skin. You sighed and collapsed into his hold. “Even if I have to jump overboard and swim back myself, I will be here for Christmas. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise a baby in my own,” you said, the fear in your evident.

“And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair.

"If you see one ounce of action, I swear to you, don't dare come home."

He nodded. Dear God, he knew. The most danger Bradley Bradshaw had ever been in was at this moment. And as his baby girl kicked him from her little cocoon in retaliation for making her Mama wild, he knew that nothing g else mattered anymore and that someway, somehow he was going to find a way to be home for his girls.

masterlist.

[bradshawsvinyl]

Begin Again

Part two.

As a first grade teacher, you couldn’t help but fall for your sweet student and her very attractive Navy fighter pilot father.

based off an ask! (screenshot at the bottom.)

You woke up on September 6th joyful and excited. It was your first day as a first grade teacher in San Diego. You had wanted to be an elementary school teacher for as long as you could remember and after six years of schooling, you were finally ready.

Your first day teaching went well. You and your students played games and got to know each other. By three thirty all of your students were picked up except one.

Tara Bradshaw was a little girl with brown curly hair and big brown eyes. No one had come to pick her up yet so you decided to stay behind with her for a while and try to get in contact with her parents.

“Hey Tara,” you said while kneeling down to her level in the pick up area. “Let’s go back inside okay? I’ll call your parents and remind them to come get you.”

“Okay.” Tara replied hesitantly while grabbing your hand. “Can you call my daddy?”

“Of course I can, sweetheart.” You replied “Let’s go.”

The walk back to your classroom was short. While Tara made herself comfortable at her desk, you picked up her file and phoned the number.

“Hello,” A deep voice answered after the third ring.

“Hi. I’m Tara’s first grade teacher at school and I was just calling to ask if there was someone available to pick her up? School ended at three o'clock and she’s still here with me.” You said politely.

“Shit,” The deep voice replied. “I’m so sorry. I’m at work right now. I completely forgot. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“No worries,” you replied kindly. “Bye.” You said quickly before hanging up.

Bradley hung up his phone and quickly made his way to the school. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten to pick up Tara. He felt like the worst father in the world.

Tara’s mom left Bradley when Tara was only two years old and he hasn’t heard from her since. Being a single father was hard for him. He was the only one in charge of taking Tara to school, bringing her home, feeding her and more.

Bradley got to the school within ten minutes and quickly made his way inside. After visiting the main office, he found your classroom. He knocked on the door. “Thank you so much for staying with her. I can’t believe I forgot.” He said as Tara started running towards him.

“It happens,” you replied sweetly. “No worries I promise!”

Bradley knelt down to Tara and said, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Tara hugged him and said, “It’s ok daddy.”

You watched the heartwarming scene. Feeling a sense of fulfillment that you had seemingly helped a stressed out Bradley. As Bradley stood to leave with Tara, he glanced at you and couldn’t help but notice your warm eyes and polite smile.

“You know,” he said sheepishly, “Tara’s lucky to have such a caring and uh…cute teacher like you.”

You chuckled softly, feeling flustered. “Thank you Bradley. I’m just happy I got to spend some extra time with Tara today.”

“Yeah well thanks,” He replied “Tara say bye to your teacher.”

“Bye bye!” She said as Bradley gathered Tara’s belongings and smiled at you, leaving a bright blush and flutter in your stomach.

“Jesus Christ Bradshaw,” Bradley said as he buckled Tara into her car seat. “Get it together.”

Bradley couldn’t believe he had been stupid enough to call you cute. You were his daughter's teacher and here he was hitting on you. He couldn’t believe what he had done.

As Tara napped on the short drive to their house. Bradley called his best friend, Phoenix.

“I’m so stupid,” he said into the phone as soon as she picked up.

“No hi Bradshaw?” She replied, the hint of a smile in her voice. “What did you do this time?”

“I picked Tara up from school late and then I called her teacher cute.” He said, sounding slightly frustrated with himself.

On the other side of the phone, Phoenix burst out laughing. “Oh my god Rooster.” She said, still laughing. “Well was she pretty.”

“Of course she was pretty, Nat. She might be the most beautiful woman I've seen in a long time” Bradley said as he recalled your sweet face. “Look, I just got home and I have to bring Tara inside. I’ll call you later.”

“If she really is that cute, don't worry about it, Rooster.” Phoenix said before hanging up.

To Bradley’s surprise, Tara was awake in the backseat. As they both went inside their home, Bradley couldn’t help but worry about how he was going to face you tomorrow. Embarrassed couldn't even describe how he felt.

The next school day went by quickly. You again woke up early and made the drive to work. Your students seemed excited about the lessons today, and you felt proud that you were able to get them to like you. You were trying to distract yourself from the voice in your head that was seemingly screaming BRADLEY CALLED YOU HOT.

Bradley Bradshaw was attractive. You couldn’t deny that. He had loose, curly brown hair and big puppy dog eyes. But it was probably wildly inappropriate to have a crush on your student's father. For all you knew, Bradley was married.

But you hadn’t seen a ring. And for some reason, that excited you.

At dismissal today, Tara was the last student to get picked up. But at least Bradley wasn’t extremely late today.

When Tara caught sight of her dad, she began jumping up and down. Once her father was in earshot, she turned to you and proudly said, “My daddy thinks you’re pretty!”

Here’s the ask!

I’ll make a part two if people are interested!

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After weeks of looking forward to a quiet day with you and Rose, Bradley almost messes up his own Father's Day celebration. He's lucky you're quick to forgive him. Every day with his daughter is a collection of moments he wants to commit to memory. Every day with you makes him fall more in love.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, blowjob, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Do you have any big plans for Sunday? For Bradley's first Father's Day?"

You looked up from your computer when you realized Cat was talking to you. Truthfully, you did have plans, but they weren't big at all. Your husband just kept telling you that all he wanted was to spend the day with just the three of you.

"Isn't it kind of Jake's first Father's Day, too?" you countered with a grin. When Cat sputtered instead of actually answering, you felt like you'd won this wrong of proverbial chess against a master. "It's okay... you don't have to admit it out loud, but I just know Jake is exceeding all of your expectations."

She dropped down into the seat next to you and leaned in like she was afraid someone else might be listening. "He took Jer to the park with Bradley and Rose the other evening."

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "I needed to clean my house, so I kicked Bradley out and told him to call his bestie, Jake."

Cat looked a little panicked now. "No, you don't understand. I can trust him to take care of Jeremiah."

"Yeah... that's good, right?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "When I moved to California, it was my intention to never ever get involved with a man again. Just me and Jer. And then when he went away to college, I was going to start collecting exotic pets or something."

You tried not to laugh. "Yeah, Jake kind of ruined that agenda for you, huh?" She buried her face in her hands, and to your surprise, she started crying. You glanced around the lab, but Macy wasn't paying any attention as you put your arm around Cat's shoulders. You were very confused as you whispered, "Are you okay?"

Cat's dark eyes were wet with tears as she met your gaze while somehow shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Her voice was raspy and uneven as she said, "He bought an engagement ring."

"Jake proposed?" you gasped, ready to jump out of your seat. You knew for a fact he wanted to, but he kept saying he didn't think the time was exactly right yet. 

"No. I found the ring. He's terrible at hiding things."

You sat quietly for a minute while she worked at getting herself under control, but then more questions started to formulate in your mind. "I know this isn't where you saw yourself, Cat. I know trusting Jake after leaving your ex is something you've struggled with, but if you love him, then what's holding you back?"

Her fingertips were pressed to her lips, and her hand was shaking. You weren't sure she had even heard your question as she stared off into space and said, "I can't even accurately describe it, because it was so pretty. The diamond was huge. Absolutely enormous. Obviously expensive." She paused and pulled away from you, opening her computer like she didn't just let herself fall apart on your shoulder. "And I have nothing to offer except a child that isn't biologically his and a crippling amount of debt that I'll probably never see the end of." When you opened your mouth to respond, she slammed her computer shut again and said, "And now I'm late to meet with Bickel," before rushing out of the lab.

You stared at the door for a few seconds before you took your phone out and started to draft up a text for Cat. You didn't see her again for the rest of the day, and you didn't send the text until you got home with Bradley and Rose. But you meant every word of it.

You're tenacious and strong, and that's worth a lot more than money. You're the kind of person someone would want to buy a big diamond for.

------------------------------

"Why is everything so expensive?" Bradley muttered to himself. "Holy hell."

He was trying to plan out the few days he would have alone with you when your parents came out again for Independence Day. Going back to the oceanfront boutique hotel in La Jolla where you and he had celebrated his birthday two years ago was going to cost a fortune over the holiday.

"Rose isn't going to need money for college anyway," he mused, shrugging at his phone before charging the room to his credit card for three nights. His daughter was going to be a genius. She was already so strong, trying her best to roll over and getting better at holding her head up without support. Suddenly he needed to see her.

Bradley tossed his phone aside and headed for the nursery where you were feeding Rose in the glider chair. When you looked up at him expectantly, he said, "I missed you."

Your gaze was soft as he sat down on the floor next to your feet. "We were with you ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago? No wonder I was getting so lonely," he whispered, reaching out to run his finger along the back of Rose's hand. "Hey, Nugget."

She paused, lips pursed, before she continued eating. It was unreal how adorable she was. Bradley could look at his daughter all day long and never grow tired. He could look at your tits dripping milk all day long, too.

"Let me burp her," he said, making grabby hands as soon as she started to slow down. "It's my favorite."

You handed Rose, who was already dressed in her sleeper, to him, kissing him on the cheek as you stood. "Should I just keep these out for you?" The way you gestured at your breasts left a smile on his face.

"Please. I would very much enjoy it if you did."

You stretched your arms over your head and said, "I'll meet you either in the shower or in bed." Then you were gone, and he was excited to burp the baby and then do whatever you let him do to you.

"Let's see if we can get a nice, big burp out of you so you'll sleep for a few hours," he muttered, pulling one of the many storybooks down from the shelf from his spot on the floor. He'd read every book in the room to her multiple times already, and he couldn't wait until she started to have favorites. Tonight he read about a dragon while he patted and rubbed her back, pausing every page or two to kiss her soft cheek.

She was yawning by the last page of the book, and she did indeed burp for him. When he set her gently in her crib, Bradley whispered, "I can't believe I get to be your dad." He stood there, leaning on the side of the crib until he was certain she was asleep, then he headed for his own bedroom, unzipping his pants along the way.

Bradley found you naked in bed, fresh from the shower and rubbing lotion all over your legs. It was such a mundane yet intimate thing for him to watch, and you didn't realize he was in the doorway yet. "Get in bed," you told Tramp, nodding toward the fluffy mat he slept on next to the bathroom door. "You can't play with Rosie any more tonight. I'm sorry, but she needs to go to sleep after Daddy finishes reading to her."

"I'm finished reading to her."

Your gaze met his as your palms went gliding up your thighs, and you smiled a little shyly at him. Then you reached for the sheet like you were going to try to cover yourself, and he headed for the bed.

"Please don't, Baby Girl," he whispered. "I was really enjoying that view."

You paused and let your eyes drift down his body. "Get undressed and come here."

He did not need you to ask him twice. Bradley yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside followed by his tee shirt and his boxer briefs. You giggled when he climbed into bed in just his socks and hovered above you like he was going to do push ups with his hands planted next to your shoulders.

When he lowered himself down to give you a kiss, you raked your fingers through his hair. He knew there was no hiding how hard he was getting, so he didn't bother. He just pressed himself against you while you licked his bottom lip.

"You're really horny, Roo," you murmured, and he simply nodded. You let one hand drift down along his scarred cheek, and then you were touching your tits. 

He was salivating immediately. He could practically smell you. White beads of your milk formed on your nipples as you gently squeezed yourself, and he whimpered your name. His cock was tapping against your thigh in excitement as he lowered himself down to kiss your lips again.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I know you want to. Go ahead."

Bradley sighed and came to rest on his elbows, letting his mouth meet your nipples.

-------------------------------

You spent all day Saturday running to three different grocery stores to buy ingredients for Bradley's Father's Day picnic lunch. It cost a small fortune to get everything you needed to make chicken salad sandwiches on homemade bread, a charcuterie board, fruit salad, and brownies. Your plan was to get up very early on Sunday to start making everything, but now Bradley's words made you feel like you were going to cry.

"I'm playing golf in the morning."

He was so nonchalant about it, you thought perhaps he was joking at first. But his expression showed a tiny bit of alarm and remorse, and you knew he was actually ditching you and Rose on Father's Day.

When you spoke, you hated how small your voice sounded. "You said all you wanted was a day with just the three of us."

"I do!" he insisted, reaching for you and pulling you close. "That's all I want. I promise I'll be home by lunchtime."

With that, you excused yourself to go to bed. You didn't bother to set an alarm, because what was the point? Rose would wake you up when she started crying her lungs out to eat, and Bradley would already be gone with Jake, Javy and Reuben. Honestly, you would have thought Jake would want to be home with Cat and Jer, and now you were mad at him, too. You thought about texting him but turned your phone screen side down on your nightstand and tossed your glasses aside instead.

A few minutes later, Bradley climbed in bed as well, and you could feel him trying to coax you closer. "I love you," he whispered, but you stayed curled up in a ball until you fell asleep.

Sure enough, he was gone when you woke up. You didn't even bother changing out of your pajamas to feed Rose. Your plans to wear a cute sundress seemed pointless now as you tried to appease your cranky daughter while you made chicken salad and baked a small loaf of bread.

"You'd probably calm down if your dad were here," you mused, handing her toy after toy only for her to push them all away. Finally Tramp had mercy on you and plopped down next to her on her play mat for a few minutes.

Of course the picnic foods looked absolutely perfect, and you struggled to get Rose burped and down for a late morning nap. "I swear you don't act like this for him," you groaned, fighting the urge to start crying. You'd been feeling better over the past few weeks. Your body was becoming more your own again, even though you were still sharing it with your daughter. The birth control and the healing time were certainly helping, but right now, you and Rose came in second place to a round of golf. On Father's Day.

She spit up all over you before she fell asleep, forcing you to change into your dress anyway. The wrapped present on the coffee table along with the homemade card were enough to make you set a timer for noon. If he wasn't back, you were going to eat the meal yourself. Your stomach was already growling.

But Bradley came through the door at 11:58 wearing gym shorts and a tank top with his aviators low on his nose. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding a little bit out of breath as he headed your way. "You look pretty."

Did he think you were stupid? You got up from the couch and turned off the timer. "Where were you, Bradley? Because you weren't playing golf dressed like that."

His cheeks flushed pink at the same time you noticed something wrapped around his right bicep. When he held his arm out to his side, you gasped.

"Why didn't you just tell me that's where you were going?" you whispered, tears burning your eyes. You felt frustrated and embarrassed that you got upset in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured, wrapping his left arm around your waist. "I've been waiting to do this since you told me you were pregnant." You buried your face against his chest and let yourself cry. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I was golfing. I panicked when they called me back and said they could fit me in this morning. I just really wanted to get my second paper plane as soon as possible."

He held you tight with both arms wrapped around you. "You said you just wanted a day with your girls, and I planned a picnic and got you a present, and then you said you wanted to fucking play golf," you sobbed. "Next time just tell me you're getting another tattoo, okay? Because now when you say you're going golfing, I'm going to think you're getting another one anyway."

"Hey," Bradley rasped, tilting your chin so you were looking up at him. "I'm spending the rest of today with my girls. That really is all I wanted to do today. I'm sorry I lied to you. I feel terrible about it now." His brown eyes were sincere which made you feel a lot better, and now you weren't mad at Jake anymore.

"Can I see it?" you whispered, and he immediately started to unwrap his arm. Right there next to the large paper airplane that had Baby Girl written across it was a smaller one that said Rose in the same script. "God, Roo. It's perfect."

"Just like my girls."

----------------------------

Okay, so he came within an inch of completely fucking things up on Father's Day. It wasn't like he planned it that way. He wasn't even sure why he said he was going to play golf. None of his friends would even make a tee time on Father's Day and include him. Or Jake for that matter. Plus, Bradley was fucking terrible at lying. He felt apprehensive the entire time he was getting the tattoo done.

It didn't even really matter if you knew about it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be a surprise declaration of his love for his family. Instead he made you stress out and cry, because of course you had a whole fucking day planned. You loved him that much.

He was right there with you and Rose for the rest of the afternoon. He changed her diapers and helped you pack up the food along with a bottle of pink champagne that was tucked way back behind everything else in the refrigerator. He carried everything out to the Bronco and got both of you buckled in. Then he started driving where you told him to.

"Are we going to our wedding venue?" he asked after a few minutes, and you started laughing.

"Is that what we're calling the parking lot?"

"Sweetheart. That's our wedding venue." Rose hadn't been to that beach yet, and now he was excited. So excited. "Rosie, we're going to show you where Mommy first kissed me and fell so in love that she's incapable of being mad at me even though I didn't tell her I was going to get tattooed this morning."

Now you were laughing harder, and you turned his playlist up a little louder, and the sun felt a little brighter. When he pulled into the parking lot, he backed into the spot where you became his wife, and then he strapped Rose into her baby carrier against his chest.

Bradley watched you pull Rosie's little sun hat out of the diaper bag, and you kissed her nose before putting it on her head. "Don't want you to get too much sun." Then you led the way down the rocky path to the sand below where you spread out a beach blanket. You tugged Bradley's hand until he was on his knees, and then you kissed his nose as well. "Don't want you getting too much sun either."

When he remembered the sunburn he got the day of Mickey's birthday kegger, he shuddered, but you were already squeezing some sunblock onto your hands and smoothing it along his face. You smiled when you got some in his mustache, and Bradley leaned closer to kiss you, and then he didn't want to stop. You ended up on your back on the blanket with sunblock on your nose while Bradley cradled Rose's head.

"Happy first Father's Day," you whispered, running your fingers up inside his sleeve to touch the wrapping around his bicep. "Rose is lucky you're her daddy."

The lunch you made was absolutely perfect. Bradley couldn't remember ever having homemade bread before, and he ate two sandwiches in a row. You and he drank the champagne from the bottle on the blanket before walking down to the water. Your tipsy giggles as he dipped Rose's toes in the water made him smile.

"She hates it!" you cackled when Rose pulled her legs up and wailed. Bradley lowered her down again when the next wave came in, and she pulled her feet away from the water once again.

"Aww, Daddy's sorry," he said, lifting her up and flying her around in the air like a plane to get her to calm down. "I'll take you to Virginia Beach where the water is warmer," he promised. "And we can go to the cemetery and visit Grampy Goose and Grandma Carole. How does that sound?"

His daughter looked much happier at the prospect of warmer water and more time with grandparents. Even though Bradley was here with his family, he couldn't help but think about everything he missed out on. Everything he was still missing out on. 

He never had a dad to fly him around or dip his toes in the water, at least not that he could remember. All he could recall were glimpses of laughter and being lifted out of his crib. He could almost hear a voice, but he wasn't sure if it was even Nick's or if his memory was playing a trick on him.

Bradley held onto Rose a little tighter as you let your head rest on his shoulder. Your voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear you over the waves. "I wish I could have met them. I wish they were here to see you with Rose."

He knew one thing for a fact. "They would have loved this little Nugget."

----------------------------

Quite effortlessly, Bradley led you back up the rocks while he carried Rose and all the gear. As soon as the sun started to set, the wind picked up and the air got chilly. Even though you nursed Rose, you knew she was going to need to eat again so she could fall asleep.

"Oh, you still have to unwrap your present," you told Bradley when you got home and walked past the living room table.

"Right now?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you want to."

He started to take your shirt off, and you ducked out of his grasp with a laugh. "Not me!"

"I don't want anything else though," he rasped, still reaching for you, but you pushed him toward Rose on her play mat instead.

"She needs a quick bath while you open your present, and then I'll give you a blowjob after she's in her crib."

"Hell yes," Bradley muttered, scooping up the baby and the wrapped gift and heading for the bathroom. You filled up Rosie's little tub, and he set her down in the water then started unwrapping the present but keeping his attention mostly on his daughter. 

"Do you like it?" you asked over your shoulder, and then he realized he was holding a book. A book about him and you and Rose and Tramp.

Bradley flipped through the pages, staring in awe at the cartoon versions of his family. Each of you had been drawn as a superhero, and even the sketched version of Tramp was wearing a little red cape.

"This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. How did you get this?"

"I had it made," you told him. "I sent photos of all of us to a local artist, and she created the book for you."

"Damn," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at each page again. "I'm such a sappy mess now, I swear." Then he sat down on the floor next to you while you rinsed the sand from Rose's tiny feet and started to read the book out loud. "Once upon a time, the Super Bradshaw Family was just about to eat dinner when Super Dad Bradley's phone rang. The city of San Diego needed help, and there was nobody better to turn to."

The story was fun, and the drawings were silly, and he just knew Rose would probably adore this book when she got a little bit older. And he was so lucky he had a wife who did things like turn him into a cartoon superhero for Father's Day and make him a four course picnic lunch.

He also had a wife who dropped to her knees as soon as they were alone. You looked up at him as you pulled his shorts and underwear down to his thighs, kissing his cock as you whispered, "There's my Super Daddy Bradley."

He grinned as he pulled his shirt off as well, enjoying how pretty you looked below his flat abs with your hand cupping his balls. "You absolutely own me, Baby Girl. I'm a fucking wreck for you. I'm all tattooed for my girls now. If you want me to be your Super Daddy, you know I will be."

You licked your lips and parted them, and then Bradley was in heaven.

---------------------------------

I need Jer to have a dad. I need it in my bones. I also need Bradley to have a sensational 38th birthday before he packs his bags and goes to La Jolla with his wife for three days in bed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

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